badinlatin: (flashback)
It's oddly calm on Serenity. Quiet. Boring. The way it should be, some days.

Mal is not bored. He's working.

He's gone through about anything he can think of to be polite and considerate and all those things he'd ever been taught, and failing.

Giving up and scrawling on a piece of paper a short note, Mal folds it in half and places it next to a pure white crane he had been practicing folding for forty five minutes previous. It took him awhile because he had to remember what a crewmember of his had specified, which crease goes first and all that.

Finally satisfied, he takes the note and the origami piece to the infirmary. Simon'll get it to River; Mal can't really think of a reason why River'd be interested in seeing him at the moment.

The Note )

She'll understand.

badinlatin: (flashback)
"But I'll be here when you're done..."

The first conscious thought that occurs to Captain Reynolds is that he is very cold, and that this condition might be due to the fact he has no shirt on and is lying facedown on an examination table.

Gorramitwelosti'mattheAcademy

Mal quickly attempts getting up - too quickly - and immediately falls back down on the table, pain zipping through his right side.

Once it passes through Mal's head that he should look around this room he's in, he might see Simon's meticulously-ordered medical supplies throughout this sterile room.

And the person about to enter into it.

badinlatin: (hope)
Can't be no place better than this.

Sallie was visible inside the kitchen through the window facing the front of the small white one floor house. Mal couldn't see what she was cooking yet, but he could smell it - beefsteak. He just could never get over the fact he lives on a ranch, havin' steak whenever he wants as long as he leaves enough to sell and make profit.

Instead of going inside to disturb Sallie, Mal sits on the stoop in front of the house, admiring the land before him. Split-rail fences ran about nine acres square, and the land itself was all tallgrass, what the mustangs didn't graze off of, anyhow. In the back of the house was the open land. All his. And Sallie's.

"Why ain't you in here helpin' me cook, Malcolm?" Sallie walks out onto the porch, hands on her hips forcefully. Not that she isn't beaming at him anyway.

"No reason...'cept for the fact you hate it when I cook." Mal smiles back, the worry lines he normally carries gone. "Come sit; tell me what's been goin' on."

"Ain't nothin' goin' on you don't know about, Malcolm Reynolds." Sallie folds up the dishrag she had been holding and tucks it into a pocket of her muslin skirt. "Cookin', cleanin', keepin' the horses fed 'n healthy. Mayor Jackson's after me to brand 'em. Not gonna though. Ain't fair to 'em."

Mal beams at her with this, taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it. "That's what I love about ya, Mama - got spirit."

Sallie takes out the dishrag from her pocket with a great deal of speed and thwaps Mal with it across the back of the head playfully. "Malcolm Beauregard, you know you only love me 'cause I cook for you." She reaches up and musses his hair - she only comes up to about his shoulders, so it's a bit of a task. "That's shiny, though - I love you too."

Sallie turns to walk back into the house, but spins to meet Mal's face as he tries to follow. "Where do you think you're goin' exactly?"

Dumbstruck, Mal returns, "With you, o' course. Aren't I stayin' for dinner?"

"Not yet you're not." Sallie has now broken out a tone of voice that might be the origin of Captain Mal speech patterns. "Got chores to be done. Come back when you're finished."

"But Mama, I been traveling all day. Can't I stay for a bit?" Mal pleads as best he can against the woman who made him who he is.

"I said no, Malcolm..." Sallie crosses the threshold again briefly to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"But I'll be here when you're done."

badinlatin: (weary)
Mal stands on one of the walkways above the cargo bay floor. He does that more often now - easier than talking to people.

If he hears Zoe coming, he's not actively trying to ignore her. Just...she might not be coming to talk to him, right?

badinlatin: (FF Ka Tet)
Mal's a strong guy. May not be built like Jayne, but he could hold his own. With that said, he is straining under the weight of every emotion possible that is filling the cargo bay.

Everyone is there. His crew is there, minus Wash and Kaylee, who have already claimed their positions in Serenity. Susan has taken up her spot with Kaylee in the engine room, leaving Roland and his tet crew in the cargo bay. Friends of Mal's crew, of Roland's crew, of River, have all gathered; those that know, that understand what needs to be done. No matter what.

Mal's eyes last rest on the beaded chain and cross Inara is wearing before hitting the comm speaker and addressing everyone in front of him.

"I ain't one for too many words, and we all know we ain't got the time for 'em. And for all our planning, I can't tell you exact what's gonna happen once we hit the Academy. Can't speak for all o' you; can only speak for myself - I ain't gonna lie and say I don't got worries."

Mal again casts a glance in the direction of his crew, attempting to guage their reactions and failing.

"But I don't have worries about us.

I worry about them. 'Cause they will never expect this."

Mal cuts himself off then. No more needs to be said, at least to his crew. They know him. For all that he ever hid from them - they know.

He walks through the others standing around him in the bay. Some stand silent, others react and connect with Mal somehow - eyes, a touch of an arm or a nod to affirm their readiness. Mal stops in front of Roland. The gunslinger and the sergeant. Browncoats.

Mal matches Roland's gaze. Not sizing him up, not forming a witty remark. Mal extends his right arm to the other dinh. A soldier's greeting. Equals.

"Let's go."

badinlatin: (man of honor)
He had wanted to do this in a different way. Any other way. Doing it like this made him feel like a coward.

Maybe that's what he is. At least with Inara.

Mal reaches the hatch to Inara's shuttle, reaches up to knock...and lets his arm fall again.

Leaving just a plain white box and a note )

in the shape of an flower on top.

badinlatin: (holster)
People everywhere, hawking anything you can imagine. Folk selling Ice Planet(TM), and the folk hired by the Folk Selling Ice Planet(TM) to steal your purse when you ain't payin' attention.

Mal loves space stations.

Mal manages, somehow, to begin weaving a path through the throng of people toward Amnon's post office.

badinlatin: (oh captain my captain)
Mal loves to side-seat drive. He's good at it. Yes, Wash is the pilot, but sometimes Mal is positive he benefits from the captain's different perspective on any matter that may be occurring on or to his boat.

Today, Mal is not side-seat driving.

Today, Mal is lounging in the seat closest to the hatch leading to the bridge from the upstairs corridor, valiantly attempting to hide the fact that he is very much lost in thought. Simon had told him last night that he was staying with Kaylee, and while that made Mal feel better in that Kaylee probably felt good having Simon around, Mal was still his very own brand of uneasy. This uneasiness, of course, was in no way diminished by not having a gorram clue what happened. He'll figure it out. Maybe.

The space station, Serenity's most immediate destination, was square in Mal's sights.

Profile

badinlatin: (Default)
Malcolm Beauregard Reynolds

July 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819202122
23242526272829
3031     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 26th, 2017 06:23 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios