Oct. 11th, 2005

badinlatin: (blue glare)
No dreams last night.

Not that he doesn't have some tension to clear off.

This is why Mal adds another ten pounds to each side of Jayne's steel barbell and leans back for another set of reps.

badinlatin: (Default)
Simon's soothers work really well. Mal has been able to regain at least a pretense of normal sleep patterns. Kaylee still keeps close tabs on him; so does the rest of the crew, for that matter. This is what makes his bunk so appealing. With a not-too-happy-with-life grin, Mal muses, Can't imagine that they all have the same reasons for keepin' track o' me.

"Can you blame them?" a voice calls from the corner, just before Mal falls over his chair to the floor in shock.

The...specter was the only word Mal had for it, laughed riotously. At any other time, he would have - should have - been on the cover of some magazine for The Latest Trend (R).

Mal doesn't see it that way at present.

"Wha--David, how--"

"Speak English, Malcolm, 'less you forgot how."

"You're dead."

"How observant, Malcolm." David moves toward Mal as Mal rights himself in his chair.

"You should be dead too, you know."

Mal swallows his fear and stands eye-to-eye with David.

"No. I fought. There ain't any reason why I don't deserve to live, you hun dan."

David's eyes, oh-so-green in life, flash red for a split second. "What about those you promised to protect? What about the ones you made a promise to and broke that promise?" David gains ground as he sees Mal's stony expression falter. "God, Mal - you really have no damned idea, do you?" David moves forward quickly, forcing Mal against the bulkhead.

"You'll lose. You'll always lose; you already have lost."

David vanishes, and all that's left of the encounter is Mal, staring at absolutely nothing.

badinlatin: (blindfolded mal)
Nobody has noticed yet, and Mal intends on keeping it that way. David was still there; for as much as he messed with Mal in life, he does all the more now.

David almost got him today, though.

Talking with Kaylee in the cargo bay, Mal saw the now-familiar image meandering around them both. Stopping behind Kaylee, David raised his hands and moved menacingly toward Kaylee's throat.

"Kay--" Mal had interrupted her more loudly than is ever required for polite conversation.

"Cap'n?" Kaylee returned worriedly, following his gaze back over her own shoulder.

David smiled and vanished.

"Nothin'," Mal covered weakly, mumbling something about her needing to double-check something for him.

Much later, back in his bunk, Mal finds David sitting on his bed, propping his feet on the back of Mal's chair.

Mal ignores the grin on David's face, inserting another soother into the pressure injector and rolling up his sleeve.

"Why do you go through all that?" David asks snidely.

With a hiss and the soother fully injected, Mal heaves a sigh as David disappears. "Because I have to."
badinlatin: (bwah)
Beaumonde. Home to...well, pretty much everything, in very large amounts, all mixed together like so much debris from a storm of neon lights and rice cake vendors.

Mal'd never admit it to anyone that didn't know him, but he really does like coming to The Maidenhead. Except for the fact that the management makes Mal and his crew lock up their weapons with these go se key cards before walking down the center staircase. Simon and Kaylee first down the stairs, as they had no guns to stow, then Wash and Zoe are hand in hand while Mal and Jayne keep an eye out for the latest contacts for the last bit of business for the Lilac job.

Mal casts an eye to Wash and Zoe, who had been also scoping the bar for anyone seeming familiar, but Mal waves a hand in dismissal.

"Sir," Zoe offers in response to this, "You sure you don't want to---?"

"Go," is the more assertive cutoff. "Go get yourselves a nice romantic meal." Apparently this is more than enough motivation for Wash, who leads Zoe away from Mal and Jayne.

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Malcolm Beauregard Reynolds

July 2017

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