Ni ta ma de tian xia suo-yu de ren dou gai si: Fuck everyone in the universe to death.
Mei mei: Little sister
Hundan: Bastard
Wo de ma: A form of 'Oh my God' ... can be translated to mean "My ma!" in some places.
ma de: fuck
Ni hao mei: You are so beautiful.
Ai ya wo mun wan le: We're in big trouble!
Note: This is by far the longest chapter of the fic thus far. Hope you enjoy it. :)
The image below was made by Shona. Isn't she incredible?
***
Malcolm Reynolds didn't trust just anybody. In fact, he could count on one hand the number of people he truly trusted and still have three fingers left over. So why, in just six short months, had Buffy Summers been able to work her way into being a person he could truly trust? Mal wasn't rightly sure. He was beginning to understand how she'd done it, though, and that was a start. Or, it was a start in his opinion, at least.
He knew she'd been downright terrified of him the first time she'd set eyes on him. He remembered seeing the fear flashing in her eyes, the way she seemed to be just itchin' to run, and the way her legs had dropped out from under her when he held out his hand in greeting. She had been shaking a bit when he knelt in front of her, offering his help, and Mal still wasn't sure what had happened next. Their eyes had met, he was sure of it, and she had searched them, like she was looking for something. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch inside of her, Buffy had relaxed. It was still one of the most baffling things he had ever witnessed, and he wished he could have believed her when she told him he'd just startled her. Buffy had given him a line about how he'd reminded her of some friend who'd died back home, but Mal hadn't believed that for a second. Because in truth, no friend would have caused that much fear in her ... especially just upon seeing him. But he'd pushed his doubts aside, welcomed her aboard and hoped for the best.
In the end, Buffy's first thirty-six hours or so onboard were plenty quiet. Or rather, she was plenty quiet. She spoke to Kaylee ... Mal remembered watching the two of them gabbing about something and wondering if they were becoming friends, but for the most part, Buffy kept to herself. Oh, she spoke. She kept up her end of polite small talk during meals, so long as the conversation didn't involve anyone asking her questions about where she was from or what her family was like. That sort of thing had her clamming up and not saying a word every time. Mal could remember watching her during her first few hours with them and wondering what had happened to her to turn such a pretty girl into an almost silent ship guest. He knew, of course, that she could have always had a quiet nature, but it was how she seemed to avoid every question about her home with such a passion that had him thinking different.
'Course, he hadn't been thinking about the mystery that was Buffy Summers as he, Zoe and Jayne rushed back to the ship the day it was taken over by idiotic rough-necks who fancied themselves law on that damn rock Pratense. Mal's goal had been a simple one when they landed there. They all knew it was a dangerous place. Business deals went bad quick if you were out to double cross anyone, but ... Mal reasoned that since they weren't out to do anything but clean business, they'd be just fine.
The planet was mainly farms and ranches, and none of the people had much use for Alliance credits or coin of any kind, but they did live to barter. Extra food, some fresh, was just what Mal needed on Serenity, so he convinced Zoe and Jayne that bartering off some of their old weapons and ammo would be a good thing. The idea of fresh, real, meat sealed it for everyone and the three of them headed out. By the time the third farmer told them that any and all business needed to be discussed with Watts, whoever the gorram hell he had been, Mal had known there'd be trouble.
They had headed back to the ship only to find it filled with at least twelve well-armed men, one of 'em with a gun pressed to Kaylee's head. Everything in Mal had wanted to go charging right in, guns at the ready, but he'd known that doing that would get people killed. His people. And likely Kaylee would have died first. So he and the other two whispered options back and forth trying to come up with a good plan.
That's when they all heard it ... Buffy Summers calmly telling the man holding Kaylee to let her go. Mal and Zoe both had to restrain Jayne to keep him from charging on board the second he heard Buffy speak. Mal had been too shocked for words at first. He did remember wondering what happened to the almost tiny little woman who had cowered in fear at the very sight of him not two days before, though. As he listened to Buffy trade retorts with Kaylee's captor, Mal barked out a whispered order of what they were going to do, and they'd done it without question. All the while he'd wondered what the hell had been going through Buffy's head when she stood up to that man.
When the final shot rang out, Mal had instantly looked around to locate his crew. He found Simon and Wash, uninjured, and crouching behind some crates. He saw Book pulling River out of Inara's old shuttle, and had been glad the older man had gotten the slightly insane girl out of the line of fire yet again. Mal had known Zoe and Jayne were fine and standing beside him, but he hadn't known what had happened to Buffy or Kaylee either one. Looking around, he found them. Buffy stood, her arms wrapped around Kaylee, a few feet away from the man she'd killed, and held the other woman as she cried. Mal remembered meeting Buffy's eyes and seeing something he rarely recognized in another person. The quiet shock of seeing it in her was something that, even now, he remembered feeling all the way to his toes.
When it comes right down to it, a leader always knows another leader's eyes. Mal held Buffy's gaze that day and he'd just known she was a leader. Who, or what, she'd led didn't matter. They never spoke of it. Nor did Buffy ever question his authority or attempt to undermine him in any way. The closest the two of them ever came to acknowledging what they had in common was when Mal needed her to. It happened so rarely, and he was very proud of that, but the truth is, every leader questions himself every so often.
He'd invited Buffy to stay on, to join the crew after she saved Kaylee and she'd accepted. He'd given her a job, assigned her to help Jayne with weapons, since she seemed to know them, and to help Simon in the medical lab as he needed it. It wasn't until the next time someone came back shot from a job that she proved her use in that department.
She hadn't hesitated a moment. Buffy had applied pressure to Jayne's wound and started asking him vital questions about what had happened before Simon even got to the room. When the doc heard her say that Jayne had lost at least a liter of blood but seemed to be reasonably alert, and that the bullet had passed clear through, missing the bone, Simon looked like he'd died and gone to heaven for a second before he barked out an order and Buffy had jumped to it. The whole crew had watched as, for the first time since Simon had been on board, he didn't have to explain, or point out, what he needed. He just told her and she got it. Mal'd heard Simon say later that it had been the closest thing to being in a real hospital since that little excursion to Ariel a year or so back, and that was the first clue that Mal wasn't the only one who had started to trust the little blond woman.
The rest of the crew had apparently seen her worth as well. Mal started seeing her working out with Jayne soon after, and despite the little pangs of jealousy he refused to admit were there even then, Mal had to admit that she was one strong little thing. He thought, on occasion, that she might be holding back because she didn't want to hurt Jayne's feelings by out-lifting him, but he'd always dismiss that thought real quick. Who, he'd rationalize, especially a girl her size, could out-lift Jayne? That man was a solid mass of muscle. So he reasoned his doubt away, pushing it aside as the impossible and went on with his business.
Still, though, some things couldn't be left alone, and over time, little flares of doubt began to surface more and more regularly when it came to thinking about Buffy Summers. One night in particular always came to mind when he thought of when he started paying closer attention to her comings and goings, how she kept herself busy. It was when he'd been doing his nightly rounds one night, late, real late, and had seen her hopping out of one of the upper hollow spaces in the cargo bay. No one, save Zoe, Wash, Kaylee, and himself, knew those were there. Zoe, of course, had known straightaway. She was his partner, and Mal was up front with her about everything. Kaylee was ship mechanic. She knew everything about Serenity. And Wash ... well, most of what Zoe knew Wash eventually did, too. It was just something Mal had to get used to. Truth was, he was still getting used to it. His business was his business, so seeing someone he barely knew, someone he knew had no way of knowing there was anything up there, hopping gracefully out of the ceiling ... that was a tad bit concerning. He'd starting paying more attention to her habits after that, hoping beyond hope that his first assumption was wrong in thinking she was some sort of Alliance spy.
The first thing he noticed was that, without fail, Miss Summers was always late for breakfast. She was always the last one to the galley, and usually got there just as the rest of the crew was leaving. He'd stick around occasionally, pouring himself an extra cup of coffee and watch her as she tried to wake up. And, Mal thought with a smile, it is always very clear to anyone watching when she is only half awake ... half lidded eyes, slow reactions, hell ... Mal was almost positive that if someone wanted to get the jump on her all they needed to do was wait until morning. She hated drinking coffee with a passion, but drank it anyway, despite the bitter taste. Mal had, over the months, many conversations with her when she was half awake, and it was in spending time with her in the morning that Mal found out nearly everything he knew about her personally. She tended to let things slip ... her favorite color, the fact that she'd never had a pet, the fact that she did have a sister. Mal knew it was wrong to pump her for information when she wasn't quite awake, but it was the only time he had ever been able to get anything out of her. He told himself it was for the safety of the rest of the crew, but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty. Especially when he discovered the reason she had such a hard time waking up in the mornings.
Mal had discovered that the reason, or one of the reasons, Buffy overslept every morning was the fact that she was up every night, wandering around the ship. He watched her one night sit and stare at the engine turning for an hour. She had just sat there, staring, watching the engine turn. She never touched anything, never moved anything, just stared, and Mal couldn't even begin to understand that. She'd gotten up after a while and walked passed him as she left the engine room. She'd murmured a goodnight under her breath as she passed him, and Mal realized that she'd known he had been there all along. He didn't know what prompted her to stare at the engine any more than he knew why she hadn't said anything to him. It had just been another layer to the mystery.
It was that night he'd followed her, albeit a bit later, back to her room, simply to make sure she'd gotten back and was staying put. It was then he heard her dreaming. The first thing he heard was a very sharp, very clear, "no," cried out into the silence of the ship. His mind had told him to run, to help her, but his gut told him the danger was not physical. The closer he'd gotten to her room, the only occupied one in that part of the ship, the more clear her dilemma had become. She was dreaming. And that was when he saw River, her head pressed flat against the door, her eyes closed, tears streaming from them, and he concentrated on the words the girl was saying, trying to block out the dream that erupted from Buffy's room.
"Monsters. So many monsters. Ugly. White. Pointy teeth. Fingernails like claws. They rushed at them. The monsters, there were so many of them, those girls shouldn't have had a chance, the probability was just wrong. They should have died. All of them. She should have died. Buffy should have died. It stabbed her. Through here. It stabbed her. She fell. Then she saw herself. It was dead her talking to her. And then she got up."
River had stopped listening at the door then and turned to Mal. "I want to help her. I need to help her. She said she's going to help me. I have to help her, too, but I don't know how. Her monsters don't have blue hands. They have claws and teeth and they tear at you. They rip you up and swallow you down, and you don't come back. They keep the bits down."
Mal could still hear every word of what River said. It even made a bit of sense to him the more he thought about it. Not a lot, but ... he thought maybe it would, someday, if Buffy kept up her end of their deal and talked about her life, her real life. But what had come out clear, what he did understand about what River had rambled off, was that Buffy was helping her, had promised her protection, and River wanted to help her in return.
But Mal had no idea at the time exactly what he was getting into when he'd dragged River off and made her talk. Part of him wished he'd just left well enough alone, wished he'd just let Buffy come to him in her own time, but another ... another part of him was glad it worked out the way it did. Because, with him knowing what he knew in secret, he could watch her with different eyes, and he learned things about her he probably wouldn't have otherwise.
And that had been his downfall. That had been the start of all of his real trouble. Hearing her cry out in the dead of night, fighting off things he couldn't see in her sleep, only to get up and work beside his crew the next day as if nothing had happened, Mal had to respect that. What was more, Mal understood that. Mal did that his own self. And it was just one more thing he added to the list of things he and Buffy had in common.
He knew she still had those dreams, even now. She'd joined his crew, his real crew, after two months of being onboard. He'd taken her on one job to see if she could hold her salt and found she could do more than that. She was an artist in her own way, even if she did have a slight moral problem with thieving. He trusted her. Zoe knew it. Jayne knew it. Hell, he admitted, everyone knew it. He trusted her quickly and deeply. He couldn't explain it, even to himself, and lucky for everyone involved, no one asked him to. He just knew it had more to do with what they had in common than the fact that she saved Kaylee's life within days of being onboard.
It was everything. It was how calmly she had told the men she was going to kill them to get Kaylee back, to get his ship back, even if she didn't realize that was what she was also doing. It was how she'd been so sure of herself, how she'd made every single one of them believe her, too. It was how she'd proven herself time and time again to be a solid, quick thinking, all around good person to have at your side, at your back, during a crisis. It was the fact that he heard her crying over a life she'd taken when she thought she was safely hidden in her room, even though the life had been that of a scumbag. It was how she never questioned him, never seemed to doubt his decisions, and how ... every once in a while, she'd pop in when she knew she'd find him alone and say something so profound that it just drove home the fact that she knew exactly how it felt to have the lives of people you loved placed in your hands on a daily basis. And Mal did love his crew, even if he loved them in an odd, slightly undefined sort of way. He knew they'd never understand that, none of them would, never really. But Buffy ... she just got it.
The job had gone bad. Simon had been shot, Jayne had almost gotten his throat sliced open, and if it hadn't been for Wash's good timing, Buffy's good aim, and Zoe's quick thinking, the entire crew would likely be dead. And Zoe had tried to warn him. But he'd not listened. He'd refused to listen. And they'd almost died.
Mal slammed his fist into the cabinet and wished to God that he could at least dent it. Serenity, though, was made of tougher stuff than that. Even her fixtures. When he heard the quiet footsteps behind him, coming into the galley, he almost barked out an order to leave him the fuck alone, but the idea that it might be River, or even Kaylee, kept him from doing it. He'd done enough damage already today, he needn't add to it by hurting someone's feelings. He hoped, if he kept his back turned, that whoever it was would go away. He rested his head on the cabinet door in front of him when he heard them shut the door, and wanted to bang his skull against the steel when he heard who he just knew had to be Zoe sit down. And he refused to turn around. She wanted to ream him up one side and down the other, fine, but she could do it with his back to her.
"You tried denting the cabinets with your head yet?"
His eyes flew open when he heard her voice. He'd honestly been expecting Zoe. Not her. Still not turning around, he decided to answer her. "Once or twice."
"It work?"
"No."
"Sucky."
"Ni ta ma de tian xia suo-yu de ren dou gai si."
"I have no idea what that means but it sounds pretty cool."
Mal chuckled. "I think it would get right painful after a while, but ... it might be interesting to watch."
"I might get around to learning that language one of these days."
"Seems to me that you might should already know it."
"Grew up in a different kind of house. My Mom was ... special."
"All mothers are special."
"That is true."
Mal did turn around then, and looked at her, Buffy Summers, sitting so casually at the table, her elbows propped up, her head resting in her palms. She met his eyes and arched an eye brow. "That is one hell of an indention you got on your forehead there ... part cabinet crease, part handle mark, I think."
He couldn't help but smile. "I'm sure it'll go away."
She nodded. "Probably. Eventually. What happened today was not your fault. In your position, I would have done the exact same thing."
"That a fact?"
"It is. It's no secret we've not had a decent paying job in a while. This was supposed to be a decent paying job. And, when everyone pulls their heads out their asses, they'll see that it was. We got paid. We got paid really well."
"They almost died. You almost died."
"We will almost die a lot, Mal. It's the life we've chosen. It's the life you've chosen. But, what your job is, as our captain, is to make sure we get out of situations like today as quickly and as unharmed as possible. And from where I was standing today, you did just that."
"Did I?"
"Yep."
He walked across the room and sat down at the table. "Maybe I'll feel that way later."
She shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter if you do or if you don't. What matters is that I think it's so, and ... like I said, once they get their heads out of their asses, they will too."
"You're so sure."
"Yep."
He grinned at her flippant tone. "So, tell me, Miss Summers, what will you be spending your cut of the money on?"
Looking over at him with a huge smile on her face, Buffy answered him in one word. "Shoes."
Mal, even looking back now, could admit to being incredibly weak that day in the galley. When she'd come in, he'd been so sure it was Zoe, so sure she was going to let him have it, that he'd just shut down. He knew he would have deserved anything Zoe ... or anyone ... would have said to him. His stubbornness had almost gotten them killed. What he hadn't expected was to find complete understanding in Buffy Summers. That had been the first time they talked, leader to leader, and neither one of them had ever spoken of it again. He knew she'd known as soon as she'd walked into the room exactly how badly he was beating himself up over what had happened, and she'd made him stop. Quietly, with well chosen words, and very smoothly, Buffy had reminded him that they weren't dead, they had turned a profit, and once everyone remembered that, things would settle down.
His trust for her had doubled after that. Truly doubled. Whatever doubt he'd had of her had dimmed, and he'd pushed it aside. He had known for sure that day that she wasn't spying on them for the Alliance. He saw it in her eyes. He still hadn't known then what to do with what River had told him about Buffy's past, but he'd decided that day that he would let that situation work itself out.
When, though, his feelings had moved beyond trust and respect, he wasn't rightly sure. Maybe it was knowing she cried over her dead, maybe it was knowing she dreamed her dreams on a nightly basis, maybe it was even the way her laugh could make him smile no matter what kind of foulness had settled into his mood. Mal wasn't sure, but Buffy had wormed her way into his mind -- his heart -- quicker than anyone else ever had. Of course his views on ship-board romances had not changed. He knew he was asking for trouble even looking at her, wanting her, in secret. But, even his opposition to getting involved, to causing rifts between them and the rest of the crew, that couldn't stop him from wanting her. He was beginning to wonder if anything could.
Sitting at the table in the galley, lunch cleared away for an hour, Mal decided it was high time he figured out what in the hell he was doing getting involved in a shipboard romance of his own, despite his aversion to them. Oh, he knew her kiss could set him ablaze like no other kiss before it, that her touch could send both hot and cold running through his body at the same time, and he had no idea how that happened, or what it meant, but what he didn't know was where it was going. What he didn't know was who Buffy Summers really was. And he wanted to. He really did. Because before he could freely admit, even to himself, that he was in love with her, before they could take their ... relationship to the next level, he had to know where she really came from. Because just the little taste she'd given him scared the hell out of him ... and he didn't scare easy.
It was high time he set about sussing things out when it came to Buffy Summers. Mal got up and left the galley, that thought in mind. And, he noted, her taste in his mouth, even after two weeks.
***
"I'm not real! I'm just blood and muscle, and brain. I am an object ... an object hurtling through space, not inside, not outside, I'm just hurtling. Nothing is real! Nothing is here. It is all imagined. It is all improbable. Never escaped. Never got free. Freedom is 'x' and here is 'y'. And I know that x + y never equal freedom. It's not mathematically possible! It's just not!"
Buffy blinked, trying to take in and process as much of what River was ranting about as possible, storing the girls words away for later, when she and Simon could sit down and go over them. When they had time, the chance away from River, to try to make sense of what she had said. Later when River wasn't holding a scalpel and waving it around like a lunatic. Later, when they'd gotten her calmed down.
"River," Buffy said calmly. "You are real, baby. I see you. I can touch you. You are real."
"Not listening. Not listening. You are not here. Here is not here."
Simon, inching closer, his voice soft, spoke clearly, "Mei mei, please, put the scalpel down. You're going to hurt yourself."
"Just blood. Just blood and bone and muscle. And brain! Can't forget the brain! Never forget the brain. The brain is what is important."
Buffy and Simon exchanged a quick glance as River looked up at the ceiling, panic floating over her face. Buffy, taking advantage of the very quick distraction, stepped up and grabbed River's wrist and held strong, despite the fact that River jerked around, lashing out to fight. The two women struggled for a moment, and Buffy's only goal was to not hurt River. She knew she could easily get the weapon away from her, easily take her to the floor, but she did not want to do that. Buffy refused to hurt River. She just couldn't. Not after everything the poor girl had been through already.
"River," Buffy pleaded softly, "Baby, it's me. It's Buffy. Stop fighting me."
"Mei mei, please," Simon's voice was near.
Buffy knew he had the sedative in his hand. Just like she knew Mal was leaning against the lab's door watching. He hadn't stepped in to help them, and for that she was grateful. Another voice would likely send River over the edge. Buffy finally got both of River's arms pinned to her sides and pulled the younger woman back against her, River's sobs of protest echoing off the walls. She saw Simon walk up to them, met his eyes, and wished there was a way she could make things easier on him. Buffy saw the pain flash in the doctor's eyes as he slid the needle into his sister's arm and injected her with the drugs they both hated to use on her. Buffy held River tight until she went limp in her arms and then nodded at Simon.
The doctor took River easily into his arms, lifting his sister and cradling her against his chest. "See to that."
Buffy scrunched up her nose. "See to what?"
"Your arm. River caught you with the scalpel."
Simon said nothing to Mal as he walked passed the captain, and Buffy hoped Mal was okay with that. She'd explain, should she have to, that right now, Simon's only real concern was getting River tucked into bed, but she hoped she wouldn't have to.
"I thought she was getting better."
Buffy walked over to a cabinet and pulled out some antiseptic. "She is. She just kinda ... freaks like that every once in a while. Every time it happens, I can't help but wonder if things would have gotten that bad with Mom ... had they not operated on her. I mean, she said some pretty wacky stuff during the weeks before her operation, but then, Mom never came at me with a scalpel ... River's gonna be real sorry for that later."
Mal walked up beside her then and took the antiseptic and the cotton out of her hand. "I reckon she will. This'll sting, you know."
"I know."
She met his eyes as he placed the wet cotton on her wound and tried not to wince. Mal's eyes softened and he leaned in, blowing cool air on the stinging skin even as he continued to clean it. "Your Mom had an operation?"
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. She had a brain tumor."
"Don't sound good."
"It wasn't. She, um ... she died."
Mal's touch became even more gentle and his other hand came up to rest on the small of Buffy's back. "I'm sorry."
"Thank you," she said softly. "It was ... well, it really wasn't that long ago, I guess, but it seems like it has been. A lot has happened to me between then and now."
"I can understand that."
Buffy was silent for a while, watching as Mal finished cleaning the small, but slightly deep, scratch and put the bandage around her arm. She reached out and ran a finger down his arm before she began speaking again, and she knew it was more that she wanted to touch him than to signal that she was about to speak.
"River told me once," she began, "that it gets harder to control her emotions when They are nearby."
"They?" Mal asked.
"Two by two with hands of blue. It sometimes changes to be gloves of blue, but the point is always the same."
Mal placed the antiseptic down on the counter and Buffy automatically put it back up. "She still says that? Never made sense to me."
"It's who hurt her."
"And you think they were here? Just then, when she was rambling about not being real?"
Buffy shook her head. "I don't think they were on the ship, no. But I think they're looking for her. Simon is sure of it. And well, sometimes it's like she looks up, out through the ceiling of the ship, into the sky, up where we can't see."
Mal closed his eyes. "I don't like this."
"I know."
"I'll speak to Wash later, see if there was anyone in the area, any other ships."
"Thank you."
Mal reached out and took her hand. "You or Simon could have told me this sooner, you know."
Buffy nodded. "I know. And it's not like we've been keeping it a secret on purpose. In fact, he and I just started talking about things ... you know, comparing notes, last week. And it's hard to do it."
"You don't want River to see you doing it, to hear you."
"We don't want to hurt her."
Mal nodded. "I know."
They just stared at each other for a minute, and Buffy realized that this was the first time they've been alone together since he walked her back to her room two weeks before. It wasn't that she hadn't known that already, she decided, it's just that she wasn't thinking about it ... what with the excitement and all. She watched as Mal ran a hand through his hair and could almost see him working something over in his mind.
"Mal?" she asked softly.
"I wanna go be judgmental about your decorating now."
Buffy blinked. "It's the middle of the afternoon. Don't you have Captain-y things to do?"
"Not at the moment," Mal said. "No."
Buffy took a deep breath. "Well, okay, then, but I'm warning you now, I didn't clean up this morning before I left, so ... if there's girly things laying around, don't you go getting all embarrassed or anything, okay?"
Mal grinned. "Girly things? You have girly things?"
"Well," Buffy says as they walk out of the medical lab, "I am a girl, you know."
***
Buffy's room was separate from the rest of the crew. Mal still wasn't sure why. At the time, when she was just getting settled in, he thought about offering her Inara's old shuttle, but decided against it, just in case he came across someone who wanted to rent it out. Why Kaylee put her where she did, Mal did not know, but ... given Buffy's ability to dream in such a loud capacity, he was beginning to think Kaylee had some of River's input as she was showing Buffy around concerning where to put her bunk. It wouldn't surprise him to find out that had happened.
Looking around, he saw many things of interest ... a few wall-hangings from Earth-That-Was, a few books he didn't recognize, and a few other touches that made the room homey. It was, he thought, nice. The candles scattered about made him a bit nervous, but he supposed she was careful with them.
"Okay."
He looked up. "Okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "Okay."
"Okay what?"
"Well," Buffy began, "in order for this to work, for any of this to work, you are going to have to trust me to tell the truth, right? I mean, you can't go into this thinking that I'm lying. I just couldn't take that."
Mal nodded. "That is the truth. And I wouldn't expect that of you ... wouldn't do that to you."
Buffy relaxed. Mal was amazed as he watched her do it. She visibly relaxed. "I know," she said. "I know you wouldn't. But I had to say that."
"Okay."
She plopped down on the floor and then bounced back up again before her body even had time to completely settle. Mal was almost positive he'd never seen anyone quite as nervous as she suddenly seemed, and was growing slightly concerned. One second she'd been relaxing before his eyes and the next she was looking so nervous she could jump out of her skin. Mal wasn't sure what to make of it, but he was sure something was wrong. "Buffy?"
"It's just ... well, on the note of telling the truth..."
"Yeah?" he asked.
"In all honesty, Mal," she began to pace the room, walking around him, back and forth. "The thought of doing this scares the crap out of me. It's been two weeks since that night and that's cool. I mean, things have been business as usual between us and I didn't expect it to be any different, you know? This ... whatever it is between us is confusing and new enough without dragging everyone else into the middle of it. I mean, that would so be not of the good."
"But?" Mal prompted.
"But, what I'm about to start telling you could scare you off. Or ... or it could make you think I am really crazy."
"Noted, and?" he asked, watching her pace.
"The thought of doing the right thing, of telling you everything..."
Mal stepped up to her and put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to stop moving. "The thought of telling me about your home."
"Yeah. The thought of doing that ... god, Mal, I'm scared."
"Of what?" he asked softly.
"It's not us. I mean, it's not just us. It's not about the fact that I can't get you out of my mind, or that I haven't been able to sleep because I can't stop thinking about how you kiss. It's about how terrified I am to even think about being in this world without the people on this ship."
'And those,' Mal thought to himself, 'are the words I've been waiting to hear.'
Pulling her to him, Mal wrapped his arms around Buffy and held her tight. "And that is why you are going to have to trust me not to walk away when you've finished telling me your story."
He felt a tremor go through her body and held her tighter, waiting out the panic that threatened to overtake her. He could almost taste it ... the fear she was feeling, the sheer terror of not knowing what was going to happen next, of not having control of the situation, and he wished he could make it better, but he was not sure he could.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," she confessed.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," she rested her head on his shoulder. "I have seen a lot in my life. I've seen hell. I'm probably one of the few people who can say that and mean it, literally. But ... the idea of losing all of you, my friends, that shakes me down to the bone. I just don't get it."
"No one wants to be alone."
"Everyone is alone sometimes, and I have always been alone."
"You're not alone now."
"I'm not?"
Mal kissed the top of her head. "No, Buffy, you're not."
Slowly, over the course of a few more minutes, she pulled herself together and gradually pulled out of Mal's arms. She sat down on her bed and settled herself back against her pillows, reclining comfortably. "Have a seat somewhere."
Mal smiled and sat at the end of the bed, lifting her feet and placing them over his as he stretched out, leaning against the wall. He knew he could still meet her eyes, but he could also give her the illusion of privacy if she needed it, and Mal wanted that to be an option. It's one he would appreciate if their roles were reversed. He felt something poking him and reached behind his back, pulling out a very sheer, very lacy, female ... thing. He examined it closely, wondering what it was, because he was sure it wouldn't just be labeled a bra. Holding it up, he asked, "So, is this part of the decor, or is it one of them girly things you were warnin' me about?"
Buffy tilted her head to the side, looking to see what he was holding up, then started laughing, the smile on her face bright. And Mal couldn't help but smile back.
***
Buffy reached out to take the odd lingerie, (that she still hadn't figured out exactly how to wear), from Mal and tossed it aside. "It's a girly thing. Though, come to think about it, the colors kinda go with the rest of the room. I might leave it out for a while, see if I like the way it fits in."
Mal smiled at her. "You've got quite the set up in here. Those artifacts must have cost you."
Buffy blinked. "Artifacts?"
"The wall-hangings," he said. "And the little figurine over there. From Earth-That-Was."
Buffy stared at the posters she'd found in a shop on one of the Core planets they'd visited. One was a sort of tie-dyed ying-yang. The pink and purple swirls sometimes gave her a headache, but she liked it. The other was a fairy-ish creature that she tried to tell herself reminded her of Amy Brown's work. It really didn't, but on really bad days when she missed home so much she could barely stand it, the posters were a nice reminder of things of the past. As was the pretty little dolphin figurine she'd found.
"They remind me of home," she said softly.
"Tell me about home."
Buffy closed her eyes and could picture it instantly in her head. There was no set location, just a series of faces. "Mom. Dawn. Giles. Willow. Xander. Angel. Spike. Tara. Anya. Faith. Robin. Kennedy. Andrew."
"Those are people," Mal said.
Buffy opened her eyes and nodded. "Home was never really a specific place ... well, okay, home was LA at first. Los Angeles. I lived there until I was almost sixteen. Then home was Sunnydale. But ... it was never the town that made it home. It was the people in the town. Ya know?"
Mal smiled. "Yeah, I know."
"Mal, once I get going, I don't know that I'll be able to stop."
"I know."
"I may babble."
"That's okay."
"I may cry."
"That'll be okay, too."
Buffy closed her eyes again and pictured Giles in her mind. She knew how he would approach the situation. He'd get the technical details over with right up front. Taking a deep breath, Buffy said, "Into every generation, a Slayer is born. She alone will stand against the demons, the vampires, and the forces of darkness."
"What?" Mal asked, startled.
"Slayer."
"Slayer?"
"It's my title. Who I am. What I am. I've seen you watching me and Jayne while we work out. I can see you questioning it, wondering if I can out-lift him."
"Can you?"
"Mal," Buffy said softly, "If I really, really wanted to, I could punch a hole through Jayne's stomach. I could bend the weight bench over his head. And believe me, there have been times that both of those options have been very appealing."
"He can be a hundan."
"A bastard, is what he is, on occasion."
"That's what I just said."
"It is?"
"Yep."
"Well. Cool."
"You're that strong, though?"
Buffy nodded slowly. "I could prove it, if we were out there, but ... I don't think now's the time. Proving what I tell you today will come later."
"Okay. So ... standing alone against the demons and the vampires and the forces of darkness. What's that about?"
Buffy sighed. "My life. You seem okay with that part of it. Why is that? I mean, usually, when I tell someone who's never seen a vamp before that they exist, they're all like, 'no way' and stuff. You're cool, calm, and collected. What gives?"
"River."
Buffy blinked. "What?"
"River. She told me she saw monsters inside your head. Told me 'bout some other things she's seen, too, and about some of the things you told her. She ain't got no reason to lie to me, plus she ... well, she's special, and we both know it. I don't think a person could lie to River, and if they could, I don't want to meet them. So, I got no reason not to believe you."
Buffy blinked again. And again. Finally, she spoke, saying, "Well, okay then."
"You were saying?" Mal asked.
She was silent for a long minute. Looking at Mal, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. Unable to stop fidgeting, she reached out, pulling a ponytail holder from her bedside table. She began to speak as she pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. "Right. Being a Slayer. I was fifteen when I found out. My first Watcher ... teacher, his name was Merrick. James Merrick. I refused to believe him at first, absolutely refused. I mean, vampires? Demons? I was, like, get real. Well, then he somehow convinced me to go to this cemetery and over the course of the night, I watched two of my former classmates crawl out of their graves. It was, at that point, the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. Merrick saved me that night, but I agreed to start his training thing, uh, program. Training program. I mean, I was in good shape. I did gymnastics, cheerleading, but that stuff mixed in with a love of ice skating did not a Slayer make."
Mal looked over at her. "You were fifteen. What did they expect? For you to be weapons proficient and battle ready?"
Buffy met his eyes. "That is exactly what they expected. See, from the standard Watcher's point of view, the Slayer was nothing but a weapon. One would die, be killed, and another would be called in her place. It's just the way things were. Usually, a potential Slayer would be trained by her Watcher from a very early age. Weapons, martial arts, the works. She was taught everything she needed to know about being a Slayer. The only thing she wouldn't have had was the Slayer strength to go along with her training. Oh," Buffy's voice hardened. "And a life. Or a childhood. Both of those things were stolen from her."
"That's morbid," Mal said, his eyes on Buffy.
"Yeah," she agreed. "No kidding."
"Why didn't you get that training?"
Buffy shrugged. "Fell through the cracks. I had already been called, the Slayer before me had already died, when Merrick found me. I had a lot of years to make up for."
"You trained, you learned," Mal said. "I can tell."
"Yeah. I did," Buffy said. "Almost constantly. At first, I skipped classes all the time, got kicked off the cheerleading squad, stayed out until all hours of the night, barely got any sleep, but I had to learn. See, there was this old vampire, Lothos. He'd moved into LA and was trying to take over. People were dying everyday and I was thrust right into the middle of a war. I'd only staked two vamps without help the first time I had to face Lothos. I barely made it away alive."
She was quiet for a minute, remembering. Looking up at Mal, she said, "Before all this Slayer stuff started, my parents, they were fighting a lot. All the time. They would fight so much. And once I started missing school and getting into trouble, things got worse. Instead of just fighting over their problems, they fought over me, too. I'd come in at, like, two in the morning and they wouldn't even notice. They'd just scream at each other some more. It was horrible."
Mal reached out and squeezed her leg. "I'm sorry."
"When everything," Buffy continued, "came to a head, a bunch of vampires invaded one of my school dances. I got most of the students out, the ones the vamps didn't kill, and fought Lothos in the parking lot. Merrick tried to help me, but Lothos killed him, right in front of me. A lot of people died because I couldn't save them. I did manage to kill Lothos, but he almost killed me, too ... I had bruises around my neck from where he tried to strangle me. In the end I had to burn down the gym where they were holding the dance because it was so full of vamps. I got expelled from school over it. They told me I was lucky I hadn't been arrested. Two days later my parents told me they were getting a divorce."
"Wo de ma," Mal said softly.
Buffy smiled softly. "Things were tough, that's for sure. I missed a semester of school before we found Sunnydale. Mom had to home school me, 'cause we couldn't find another school that would let me in. After that, after Mom went to all the trouble she did, and we found Sunnydale, I promised myself I'd never get that involved with, you know, fighting vampires again."
"But you did."
"Yeah," Buffy said. "I did. Being a Slayer is what I am - who - I am. I couldn't escape that no matter how bad I wanted to."
"Tell me about Sunnydale," Mal said softly.
A soft laugh slipped past Buffy's lips and she closed her eyes, easily picturing the small town above the Hellmouth. "Mal, I would need a year for that."
"Well ... tell me something 'bout Sunnydale then."
Buffy smiled. "The people?"
"That'll work," he squeezed her ankle. "That'll be just fine."
Slowly, Buffy got off the bed and walked across the room. Pulling a large brown book from a drawer, she said, "On that Core planet? That last job we had on Arithan? I found this guy who said he could draw anything. I spent over half my cut having him draw for me, but it was worth every little bit."
She walked back over to Mal and handed him the album. "It took him all day, everyday we were there, but it was worth it. These are just as good as any picture ... um, photograph."
"Can I?"
Buffy hopped up onto the bed once more, this time sitting beside him. She nodded and Mal flipped open the book to reveal her Mother's face. Smiling, Buffy reached out and traced a finger over the artist's rendition, thinking once more how glad she was that she'd paid the little bit extra to have him add color. It just added so much more ... reality to the drawings.
"Mom," Buffy said softly, "was my rock. She could keep things normal when the rest of my life was spinning out of control."
Mal smiled. "Mama's are good at that."
The two of them shared a look, and Buffy smiled, resting her head on Mal's shoulder. "The Slayer thing was supposed to be this big secret. It wasn't as much of one as it should have been, but Mom didn't know. Our relationship always suffered because of my secret. She'd always ask me to tell her what was wrong, what was bothering me, but I never could. I never said a word about the real reason I was always in trouble or upset until the world was ending and I had to stake a vampire in front of her."
"You keep saying that," Mal broke in. "Sayin' that you had to stake a vampire. What'dya mean?"
"Well," Buffy said. "A wooden stake through the heart will turn a vampire to dust, literally. One good jab and it's over."
"Seeing someone turn to dust in front of her must not have been easy on your Ma."
Buffy shook her head. "No, it was bad. She took it badly. She didn't understand that, at the time, I couldn't just stand around and talk things out. I had to go stop Angelus from sucking the world into hell. Angelus was this vampire ... he wanted to end the world, and it was my job to stop him. Mom didn't get that. She told me that if I walked out of our door I couldn't come back. And, I didn't. I stayed away for over three months. It was the first time after I found out about being the Slayer that I actually ran away from my destiny. I fought Angelus, won, and then ran."
"But you went back," Mal said softly.
"Eventually," Buffy said. "Mom was beautiful, wasn't she?"
"Very lovely."
Smiling, she said, "Dawn, my little sister, is on the next page."
Mal turned the page and let out a low whistle. "Beauty runs in the family I see."
Buffy looked up and giggled. "She's a brat."
"Most older sister's would say that, I reckon."
"She's," Buffy paused. "Damn, Mal, she's twenty-two. The annoying, pain in my ass who always ruined my clothes is 22 years old. God I miss her."
"And I'm sure she misses you, Buffy. I'm sure they all do." Mal turned the page. "This is you. Well, you and two other people. Younger than you are now. Who's the boy? Should I be jealous?"
Buffy pulled herself out of Dawn-saturated memories and laughed. "Jealous? Of Xander? Nah. He's ... he's my best friend. So's Will. Willow, the girl. I tried to remember what we looked like in high school, and I think the artist did a good job with my descriptions. There's pictures of them on the next two pages ... what they look like now."
Buffy was silent as he looked, trying to think of a way to explain the depth of the friendship the three of them shared. She looked up when she felt Mal's eyes on her. "They'd be the ones still looking for a way to get me back, a way to bring me home. They're still trying to get me back, I just know it. I know because I know them, because I'd be trying to get them back."
"Will they?" Mal asked. "Will they find you?"
Buffy shook her head slowly. "I don't think that's possible. We knew going into the fight that if one of us got stuck here we'd be ... well, stuck."
"But you think they're still lookin'?"
Buffy looked up. "The three of us lived through hell together, Mal. They're my best friends. They're my family."
Nodding, Mal turned the page. "And who are these two pretty ladies?"
"Anya and Tara," Buffy said softly. "Anya was killed in battle ... she and I were never good friends, but she was Xander's girl, so ... she was Xander's, there's not much to say past that. And Tara, she was Willow's everything. She was shot. Willow held her when she died."
"I'm sorry."
Buffy smiled softly. "Thanks. They were special women."
She paused. Buffy knew who was on the next page, the next four pages, actually, and she had no idea how to even begin to explain them. "Angel and Spike are on the next four pages. They're vampires."
Mal was silent for a long time as he looked at the drawings. One of each of them was of their human faces. The other two showed their demons. She'd told the artist that they had been actors and that she wanted to remember them that way ... in character. In truth, she just wanted to remember.
"You had relationships with these men," Mal's voice was quiet.
"Vampires," she corrected automatically. "And, yes, I did."
"The creatures you were supposed to kill."
Buffy sighed. "It was complicated. They were different and-"
"I think," Mal interrupted, "former relationships are better left for another time."
"Thank you," Buffy said softly. "Faith's next. She's another Slayer. After her is Robin, her husband. Then there's Kennedy, another Slayer, who is also Willow's girlfriend. And Andrew ... he's this annoying nerd turned Watcher who somehow wormed his way into my family. I'm still not sure how that happened."
"They're just all your friends?"
Buffy smiled. "Yeah."
"And the final picture?"
"Giles."
"Not your father."
"No," there's a hitch in Buffy's voice. She could feel the tears gathering in her eyes, feel the emotions she'd been trying to keep at bay during their entire conversation about to spill over. "Not biologically. He's my Watcher. Merrick was my first Watcher. Giles ... replaced him."
"Buffy."
She could still see that day in her mind, see herself pushing Giles out of the way, see herself falling into the portal. She could hear him calling out her name, hear him yelling after her, and suddenly, it was all too much. "I miss him. I miss them all ... but ..."
Mal began moving just as the first tear fell and swept her into his arms. "Buffy."
She wrapped her arms around him but didn't let herself stop. She knew that if she stopped talking now she'd never start again, and he had to know. Mal had to know how she'd gotten into their world. She opened her mouth and let it all pour out, doing her best to ignore the tears and the sobs that accompanied her words.
"There was this demon," she began. "It could open portals in time with it's mind. And we all thought it was funny. We joked about it, laughed about it, and none of us took it as serious as we should have. Faith and I even talked about how cool this world would be, what with there being no demons and no vamps. But ... none of us thought anyone would get stuck here. No one thought anyone would actually fall through the portal. I was fighting off one of the demon's little ... minon demons when I saw it. Giles was surrounded.
"My Watcher, the man I considered to be my Dad was being pushed towards the portal. I never told him that, you know? That I consider him more of a father than my real father. I really, really regret that. And I had to save him. I just had to. So I ran. I broke the demon's neck and ran. I cut in between the demons closing in on him and knocked Giles out of the way just in time. I didn't count on one of those demons behind me giving me a shove. I tried to turn, tried to grab onto something. I heard Giles yell out my name, heard Dawn scream, but I was already falling and none of it mattered. I hit the ground hard, broke my ankle, and saw the portal start to close. I knew that meant that the demon that opened it was dying and I tried, god I tried to get out. I jumped and jumped, but it was too high and there was nothing ... not a tree, not a bush, nothing but air and I was hurt. I couldn't get up there. The portal closed and they were gone. My world was gone. And I was here."
She was sobbing, absolutely sobbing then, and couldn't stop. "I'm glad I pushed him out of the way, Mal. I'm glad."
"You wouldn't want to sentence him here, I know, Buffy..."
"Sentence him here? Sentence? Mal, no."
She pulled back and looked him in the face, ignoring the tears streaming down her cheeks. "I love it here."
"What?" Mal's voice was tight.
"I feel so guilty saying that out loud," Buffy's tears doubled. "But it's true. I love it here."
Mal's arms tightened around her, pulling her back down to him, and neither one of them said anything as she cried. In truth, there was nothing to say. Buffy had said it all with those few words. She loved it here.
***
"You okay?" Mal asked softly.
"Mmm," Buffy said. "Maybe."
He smiled. "Maybe?"
"Well," she said. "I just told you a whole hell of a lot, cried all over you, and now I'm sprawled out on top of you."
"Yes, you are. And?"
"Do you think I'm crazy?"
"No more than I did when I came in here."
"That is so not helping."
"Buffy," Mal said. "Look at me."
Lifting her head off of Mal's chest, Buffy did as he asked, and met his eyes. "Yeah?"
Mal said nothing, just stared at her and Buffy blinked. "Mal? What?"
"You're beautiful."
"Are you crazy? I just cried for, like, an hour. My eyes are all red and swollen. My hair is probably all over the place, and my nose is all stuffy."
In one swift move, Mal flipped them over. "You're beautiful."
Buffy blinked as she saw the truth in his eyes. "And you're still here."
"That I am."
"I was afraid you would leave-"
Mal lowered his head and captured Buffy's lips with his. Kissing her quickly, he pulled away and smiled at her. "I know. But I didn't. And ... we've still got a lot of ground to cover but, Buffy, you are an amazing woman. And believe me when I say I've seen crazy. I've seen women tell lies. Good lies. And ... I know you're not lying."
Buffy swallowed hard. "Oh."
"What?"
"I..." she ran her hands over his back. "I just realized how much I wanted, how much I needed, to hear you say that. Thank you."
He smiled down at her. "You're welcome."
They just stared at each other for a few minutes, neither one of them moving, and Buffy could feel the beginnings of what she hoped was arousal building against her leg. Mal licked his lips as she traced a finger down his back. She couldn't help but remember how pleasurable things had been the last time he'd had her pinned to a bed, and wondered if he was thinking the same thing.
"You know, Captain Reynolds," Buffy said, her voice teasingly soft as her hands continued to run up and down his back, slowly. "You have me in quite the interesting position here. Helpless little me pinned underneath your big, strong body..."
"Helpless little you, my ass," Mal grinned. "But you are right, this is quite the ... interesting position, as you put it. One might accuse me of taking advantage of your emotional state."
"Hmmm," Buffy mused. "One might, if they weren't me. I've wanted you to kiss me again, really kiss me again, for two weeks, Mal. You're the one who insisted on talking."
"That a fact?"
"Uh huh," she said, grinning.
Mal lowered his head then and kissed her once more, slower this time, deeper, and both of them moaned as they felt the same sparks begin to shoot through them as before. The sparks, it seemed came with the kissing. Buffy's hands were still running over Mal's back when he pulled away and he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. "What time do you think it is?" she asked softly.
"'Round dinner, I reckon."
Buffy licked her lips. "We should get up there, then."
"Yeah, we should."
They stared at each other a moment longer before Mal rolled off of her. They got off the bed, their fingers laced together. "I should wash my face."
Mal looked over at her. "You could."
"I really do probably look horrible and I'm honestly afraid to look in the mirror to find out."
"I already told you. Ni hao mei."
Buffy smiled even though she had no idea what that last part meant. "Okay."
"Buffy?"
"Yeah?"
"You really been up at night thinking 'bout my kissin'?"
"Every night."
"Trying to figure out how to tell me you don't wanna see me no more?"
Buffy grinned. "Well, that has been giving me hell. I mean, if I catch you in a bad mood, I might find myself floating away with only one of those ugly, clunky suits to keep me company."
"Nah," Mal said. "I'd at least let you borrow a shuttle. Well, probably."
He pulled her to him and lowered his head without hesitation, and Buffy met the kiss. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes even tighter when Mal pulled her body flush up against his. His tongue teased her lips and she parted them, allowing him entrance. He explored her mouth lazily, gently, and led her tongue slowly into his mouth allowing her the same chance. His hands trailed over her back, her sides, and finally into her hair, pulling it free of the pony tail she had it pinned back in, and he groaned as Buffy ran her hands over his lower back, dipping them ever so close to his ass. Pushing her back gently, they fell easily onto the bed and back into the kiss. Buffy moaned as Mal cupped one of her breasts, and he began to kiss his way down her jaw line and neck, making her shiver. "Mal..."
"Buffy."
They looked at each other and then started kissing again, and he groaned as Buffy wrapped her legs around him. He pressed his cloth covered erection into the material of her pants and both wished they had thought to strip before getting into that position. His hand found her breast again, and he nipped at her neck, while Buffy's hand tugged at his belt, even as they began to thrust against one another. Neither one of them was prepared for the moment when the intercom in Buffy's room sprang to life.
They realized quickly that it was the ship's general com, and not just meant for Buffy, as Zoe's voice blast out, "Sir, it is your rule that no one eats without you, so unless you're dead, could you please pull yourself out of whatever hole you've been hiding in all afternoon so the rest of us can eat?"
Mal and Buffy broke apart quickly and stared at each other, both of them panting and struggling for control as they listened to a very muffled conversation over the com. Finally, Zoe's voice, clear once more, continued as, they presumed, she took her hand off the mic. "And sir? River says to please bring Buffy with you as she is sure there is no food where the two of you are."
Buffy blushed a bright red as the com fell silent and Mal stated his opinion brilliantly saying, "Ai ya wo mun wan le!"
"Okay. I really need to learn that language. What the hell did that mean?"
"River is a mind-reading, know it all menace."
Buffy grinned at the tone of Mal's voice. "Yeah, but I love her anyway, and since we both know she told everyone where we are, we need to get going, 'cause well, the longer we take... Well, you know where their minds will automatically jump."
"Yeah," Mal said, running a hand over his face.
He reached for the brush on the table beside them and handed it to Buffy. "Might not be a bad idea."
She nodded and began working out the tangles. Pulling it back when she finished, she asked, "You don't think Jayne is picturing me naked right now, do you?"
"Gorram it, woman!" Mal exclaimed. "I'm trying to get myself out of this ... aroused ... state, and you're talking about being naked. You sure you don't have any chow at all in here?"
Buffy shook her head. "River and I ate it all last night."
"Well," Mal said, "ma de."
"Sorry."
Mal looked over at her and grinned. "I can tell you're really not."
She shrugged. "They'd just come here if we stayed and hid and you know it."
"That is a fact."
"Ready?"
"Uh huh." He took her hand and kissed her once more, gently, before pulling away. "Let's go."
End part ... tbc.
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