Mal-Tonks.

[badinlatin]

Mal's been learning a lot of things from Earth-that-Was, lately -- for bartending, more drink mixes than one can shake a stick at.

Personally? He's picked up a fondness for card games, and is currently thumbing through a 21st-century edition of Hoyle's Rules of Games, pausing when he finds one that seems interesting.

Regardless, he's busying himself enough that his coffee at his left is nearly forgotten and probably entirely cold.

Comments

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora notices, as she takes a seat across from Mal, and pokes the coffee with her finger. It obligingly begins to steam, and its aroma wafts around them.

[badinlatin]

"Knew there was a reason I kept you about," Mal peers his eyes over the top of his book. "Hi, Dora."

[clumsy_auror]

"Howdy," she says, which sounds altogether wrong in her London accent. "What's new, pussycat?"

[badinlatin]

Whoa whoa who-oa.

"Not a damn thing," Mal flips a page in his book. "What about on your end? Anythin' appropriately amusing?"

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora cocks her head, mulling this over. "Nnnnnnope. Same old, same old. Kind of refreshing, isn't it? I dig normalcy."

[badinlatin]

"I suppose."

It's a very unenthusiastic 'I suppose', and Mal has far more cheer in him drinking his coffee than pondering any newfound normalcy.

[clumsy_auror]

"...Well that was hardly rousing. What's eating you?" she asks, ducking her head to try and catch his eye.

[badinlatin]

"Everyone keeps asking me that," Mal wheedles.

At least he gives up on not looking directly at the witch.

"Like you said. Same old, same old."

[clumsy_auror]

"So you're... bored," she hazards. "Or feeling hemmed in. About... something."

Yeah. That narrows it down.

[badinlatin]

"Both?"

Mal's not helping, and he does realize it. Eventually.

"Duibuqi. Just restless. Not used to sittin' on my laurels."

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora shrugs and nods in one slightly floppy movement. "I know the feeling. There's still times I feel like I oughta be out doing something, anything for the war. Except that it's been over better than six months. Makes me twitchy."

[badinlatin]

"Twitchy's a good word for it."

Mal, looking up at Dora though she sits lower than he does, "Think you could do something if it needed to be done? Even if you shouldn't?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Depends on the something, I reckon," she replies, shrugging again. "But yeah. It's my job -- doing stuff that needs to be done. Even if I don't always like it."

[badinlatin]

"I don't mean not likin' it. I mean that you shouldn't do it."

Spit it out, Malcolm.

"Kitty's still in ruttin' prison."

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora lets out a long breath, and props her head up on her fist. She thought it might be about that.

"That's... some kinda sticky wicket, Mal," she replies, forgetting that croquet metaphors may not scan. "No easy answers for that one."

[badinlatin]

Croquet metaphors actually scan very perversely, but it only ellicits a cocked eyebrow before Mal moves on.

"I think there used to be a point where the answers were far easier."

[clumsy_auror]

"Iiiiii don't think the answers were ever all that easy," 'Dora replies wryly. "I think it's just that we actually understand the complexity of it all, as we get older."

[badinlatin]

"Sounds like ignorance really is bliss," Mal grumps to himself.

"I'm sorry," Mal offers eventually. "Ain't usually this..."

An appropriate pause, wherein Mal attempts to choose an adjective that's both suitable and not too self-deprecating.

"...Introspective?"

[clumsy_auror]

"You don't have to apologize to me," she says, absently picking a stray thread from his sleeve. "Not a crime to be introspective. Plus, you're worried about her and angry that she doesn't agree with you."

[badinlatin]

"But why should I give a good gorram what she wants anyhow? I used to act on behalf o' crew without any concern as to what they actually want."

Mal finishes off the remains of his coffee.

"I should just drag her out of there. If I can manage it without more damage."

[clumsy_auror]

One of her eyebrows quirks up. "So... why don't you? What's holding you back?"

[badinlatin]

"I ain't decided. Can't tell whether it's me gettin' soft or me not bein' enough of a hardass to go off and ruin folks' plans even if its for their own good."

[clumsy_auror]

"Or both," she quips, and then sighs. "Mate, I don't think you're going soft."

[badinlatin]

"You're right."

He makes a show of looking downward at himself. "No blubber yet."

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora snorted, and then sat quietly for a moment, just taking him in. "What makes you think you're going soft?"

[badinlatin]

"It's too...quiet." Mal torques his expression, lacking an adequate explanation. "You know what I did yesterday? I let Naomi chew on my shirt 'cause River told me that she liked the buttons."

[clumsy_auror]

A sudden laugh burst out of her. "Why on earth would that have you worried? It's... Naomi. She's your family, for all intents and purposes. Not the mention the most defenseless person on a ship you captain. You want her to be happy, and that's just fine."

[badinlatin]

"Augh. 'S...'s not what I mean."

Balancing his chin on one hand, two fingers uncurl toward his temple. "I'm not doing anything. 'M just coastin', dong ma?"

[clumsy_auror]

"What exactly aren't you doing that's got you so bothered? Last time I checked you were plenty busy," replies Nymphadora, mirroring his posture.

[badinlatin]

"With bartending. And entertaining babies. Runnin' small jobs."

His eyes go wider, then, just by a fraction.

A sound of realization: "Hunh."

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora's eyebrows lift in silent encouragement.

[badinlatin]

"Never thought I'd be in a position to want things on the ship to not be runnin' smooth."

[clumsy_auror]

"Never thought so, either," replies the witch. "Is that really it, though? Maybe you're... waiting for the other shoe to drop. Looking a gift horse in the mouth. Your metaphor of choice."

[badinlatin]

"Probably, shi a."

Exhaling, "What's a captain to do when a decade's worth of fatalism is lookin' to be more or less obsolete?"

[clumsy_auror]

"Build a new world view, I guess. Er. 'Verse view."

'Dora laughs softly, and runs a hand through her tousled hair.

"'S it such a crime to be relatively happy, Mal?"

[badinlatin]

"No. Relatively."

Mal laughs, too.

"You want a drink? I need a drink. Maybe a pink thing what Inara always ends up sippin' on."

[clumsy_auror]

"'S long as it doesn't have any booze, I'm all for it. And you know me and pink."

Very solemnly she scrunches up her face, and demonstrates that love in detail.

[badinlatin]

"Naturally."

Two horrifically pink beverages appear -- one smelling of rum, one distinctly not -- and Mal lifts his glass to Dora.

"To...worldviews."

[clumsy_auror]

"To worldviews. And to not freaking out when the universe decides to go easy on your for a while." With a crooked smile, 'Dora clinks her glass against Mal's, and takes a sip (whilst thinking wistfully of the rum in her friend's drink).

[badinlatin]

Mal sips his own.

"Pink. Hunh - not too bad."

[clumsy_auror]

"Bet yours is better than mine."

'Dora looks down at her belly with an expression of mock indignation.

"You hear that, kid? For you, I'm drinking glorified fruit punch. I hope you're happy."

[badinlatin]

Mal snorts.

"I'm sure he is. She. Whatever. I'm sure the whatever is happy."

Mal laughs more strongly, and drinks again. For the moment, he is too. That's enough.

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora looks up at her friend and grins, watching the lines lessen on Mal's face, the light come back into his eyes.

That's enough.