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Can't Take the Sky From Me (SevenxSorrow)

sevenpercentsolution

sevenpercentsolution

Supernova
Joined
Jan 11, 2009
(ooc| This was continued from DRP, and then taken to gmail, and now it's, uh - here.))

Neither Mal nor Zoe said a word as they observed the distant expression on Hawk's face; it was easy to see she was holding onto hope, even with the smell in the air, and the uneasy feeling that was coming from the room, she was stuck on the idea that her friend and long-time companion was still alive.

And Mal, he knew firsthand what the Alliance was capable of, just as he was sure Hawk knew it, and that sometimes the Alliance bent, broke, and completely destroyed the laws that they had worked so hard to try and force on the general population. But even without anything to give them proof aside from the persistant waft of burnt flesh and congealing blood and human fluids in the air, it was obvious to both of them what had happened there, but saying so wasn't easy.

But there was that chance, wasn't there? The possibility that Sern was still alive, and Browncoats didn't leave eachother twisting in the wind, they just didn't - it broke an unspoken code. Browncoats had to stick up for eachother; they were all they had.

Zoe's voice broke into Mal's thoughts then,

"Sir? We have a problem."

He looked over, and found her staring out the window; joining her, he saw the skinny, pretty guy from back at the bar, clearly in Alliance colours, observing the grubby house they were in. While the guy was a great deal smaller than Mal was, and looked about as a tough as a porcelain cup, it just wasn't an option for them to muck about with Alliance - it was the last thing they needed.

"Back window," Mal said, and Zoe immediately headed that way, and Mal paused long enough to look at Hawk, and while his voice wasn't angry or even insistent - there was a note in it that indicated he hoped for a particular result,

"You're either comin' with us or stayin' here an' riskin' the Alliance. Either way, we're gettin' off this rock and fast."

He glanced around for a moment then, and without saying why, he went up to the wooden chair in the centre of the room, tilted it, and landed a good kick into the side of it, snapping off one of the legs, which he took and tucked somewhere into his jacket.

"We'll find him, alright?" Mal said, "If he's still around to be found."
 
That feel of dread, the cold tingle on the back of her neck remained and she felt that she was clenching her teeth. If she was a canine her hackles would have been up. Even so, she kept her mind on the possibility of Sern being alive, and waiting for a helping hand. Who better to give it then her? After all she did owe him on what seemed like a good handful of favours. Besides that is was a unspoken agreement that they watch out for each other, it had been so since the War had begun. Even against the Alliance, a organization that thrived on cold order and the compliance of millions, something that seemed everywhere and anything at once, with the Browncoats it didn't matter what you stood against, or how you stood against it, as long as you carved your own path.

That mindset, the sort of mule like stubbornness that all Browncoats seemed to have one way or the other was what kept Hawk focused on the hope that Sern was alright. It allowed her to be able to leave the house and keep going....mostly. When she heard the woman, Zoe speak she turned her head to the window, and spotted the Alliance fellow. All her instincts clamored at once at she took in the smooth, clearcut features of the man, feeling her hand clench around the butt of a well used pistol, her's or Sern's she didn't think of that now. A voice screamed at her to shoot the bastard, and interrogate him as his life blood spilled onto the dusty ground. Another urged her to run and get as far away as possible, it wouldn't help Sern to be jailed, or captured as well.

Both voices argued for what seemed like hours, but were muted slightly as Mal spoke, level eyes directed at her. He meant what he said, the man was refreshingly blunt and she felt herself nod, tearing her gaze away from the Alliance fellow "Show me ye're ship Captain. And....ye're right, he'll be found soon enough." she stated. And there will be hell te pay she added in afterthought, already moving to the back window, body tense as she cut off all ideas of revenge swiftly, stomach churning.
 
There was a peculiar amount of grace in the way Mal went through the window, one that seemed to defy the man's height and lanky limbs, his long coat slipping along behind him without ever twisting or catching the way it would have on anyone else. He looked right and left, the coast was clear, and when he looked right again, the skinny Alliance guard was suddenly there, watching him with hard eyes that betrayed his pretty, freckled little face.

A tag on his uniform indicated high rank, and a gold pin named him as 'Corbea',

"Is there something wrong with the door?" Corbea asked mildly.

"You were in front of it." Mal replied instantly.

"And now i'm here."

"Which means now there's somethin' wrong with the window."

Corbea's mouth twitched a little, and then his hand was reaching for his belt, and before he could even do anything, Mal had suffered a knee-jerk reaction and socked the guy right in the jaw, knocking him right off his feet; there was a hesitation, and Mal lingered there for an instant, mouth in a small 'o' of surprise at himself,

"Whoops." Mal said, stepping over Corbea, and Zoe just nodded and followed along. It didn't take long to get to the Serenity after that, though it involved a lot of dodging and weaving through the crowded city to get there. The little Firefly-class ship stood out amongst all of the latest smooth-looking crafts, the kinds that were made to look pretty; Inara was waiting at the ramp, the picture of calm, while Jayne stood beside her with an ice pack on his face.

Inara cast her dark eyes over Mal for a moment, and then rolled them,

"We're on the run, aren't we?" Inara asked.

"Mebbe." Mal replied as he moved past her, climbing the stairs up to the pilot station, where Wash was sitting, re-enacting a miniature dinosaur war with his toys; by the looks of it, no one was winning, "Wash!"

Wash suddenly bashed his right hand across the control panel, sending all of the toys flying onto the floor, and he turned in his seat to try looking casual, as though he wasn't a grown man in a tropical shirt, playing with plastic velociraptors. His eyes shifted from Mal, to Zoe, to Hawk, and then without a word, he turned back to his station and pulled the ramp, and boosted the engines.

"Where's River?" Mal asked, turning around and finding her suddenly behind him; she had risen from behind the flight panel, where she had apparently been sitting on the ground, passively watching the dinosaur show,

"Nngh." Mal said, taking a wobbling step back, away from her huge doe eyes, which were currently fixed on him like headlights. There was an instant of silence, and then River slowly looked down at the fallen troupe of dinosaurs, picked up one of them, and then looked back at Mal. Putting her skinny arm out straight, she pushed the triceratops against Mal's nose, and quietly said:

"Roar."

Mal was motionless, except for one of his hands, which slowly moved towards his jacket and extracted the chair leg he had taken. River watched, her big eyes following the movements, and she lowered the dinosaur like it was a loaded weapon, and then took the chair leg when Mal offered it out to her.

There was a long silence as River stared at the chair leg, and then she wordlessly lifted it, put in on top of her head, and walked away with it balancing there.

"Sir?" Zoe asked, and Mal lifted his shoulders in a shrug, as though unsure himself.

"Oh-kay," Wash said, and flicked on the speaker system, talking into it like the host of a cheesy game show, "Ladies and gentleman, this is your pilot speaking, arms and legs and any other dangly extremities inside the ship at all times please, this is our annual Unification Day emergency take-off, Kaylee, you know what to do."
 
Hawk backed up a moment and dashed to the window, leaping on and rolling on the ground neatly, before springing up. She stood and adjusted her shirt, turning her head to see the Alliance fellow, eyes tracking over his face and the badge that he wore. She memorized all she could, teeth clenched again as she wished nothing more then to walk up to the man and pound his face in. That was right about the same time that Mal slugged him and a large part of herself cheered within as the pretty boy sprawled out onto the ground, down for the count, or more. As Mal and Zoe stepped over him, Hawk followed, instead giving a none to gentle step on his belly, following at a swift jog.

She gave a quick, guileless nod to the woman, darting onto the ship and gave a swift look of appreciation about the cargo bay. “I’m jealous.” She muttered, half to herself, taking in the battered, rusted interior feeling an near instant sense of homeyness and comfort. Sern would enjoy this as well, mostly the engine since he loved to tinker with anything mechanical. Swallowing she moved on walking into the cockpit and not noticing the rumpled haired fellow playing with toy dinos a moment.

As he jerked and tried vainly to hide his doings, she looked at him and relaxed slightly an odd sort of kinship in her eyes. Whether it was that he was a pilot, or simply the accepting way he took things, she liked him. About to ask who River was, she looked at the small slip of a lass stare the Captain down, gracefully branding the dinosaur in his face before moving (more like floating) away with the chair leg balanced on her head. A mix of bemusement, curiosity and wonder crossed her face all at once, crashed into each other and vanished as she slowly shook her head “I’m either going te like it here, or go mad.” She mused, voice quiet still, mostly tracking through what to do next.
 
Wash tossed a sheepish grin in Hawk's direction, and then his eyes moved to Zoe,

"I don't mean to sound rude, darling," he said, and Zoe looked at him, and the warrior woman's eyes looked soft for once as she looked at Wash, "But who's she?"

"Browncoat." Zoe replied, and rubbed her hand through his blonde hair, and Wash just nodded his head and said nothing more, because he immediately understood the bond that his wife would have with the woman, even after only knowing her for a few minutes. The Serenity was taking off then, maneuvered into the sky and out of the city's airspace, breaking up through the barrier, and jolting into space within a few minutes.

Simon suddenly appeared in the doorway, peering inside,

"Ah, I see we're back from our annual fistfight," Simon said, stepping inside, his long fingers fiddling with the buttons on his vest, and his eyes moved over Hawk for a moment with a purely intellectual curiousity, and he gave her a small, polite nod as a greeting before his eyes shifted to Mal, "And how did it go?"

"Fun." Mal replied shortly, "Smashed some faces, laughed, cried, braided eachother's hair. It was good times, Doc."

Simon's mouth was a thin line, then,

"Mm-hmm," he said, "Would anyone mind explaining why River is wearing a chair leg as a hat?"

All at once, everyone shrugged, and Simon sighed,

"Alright. Fine." he said, "But would someone please make sure Jayne keeps his fingers out of his eyes? It's just that he tries to break my arm every time I try and stop him, and if he irritates it anymore, he'll never stop whining."

He left the room then, and then Wash looked at Mal,

"Why, uh, why did you give her a chair leg anyways?"

"No reason." Mal mumbled, and then cleared his throat, "Right, we got a browncoat in trouble here."
 
Hawk kept her arms behind her, standing in an at ease militant stance. It was of course a habit from her time in the War and she watched the odd rumpled man and Zoe, reflecting on the strange, yet fitting pair they made. She remained still as Serenity jolted into space, still looking around the cockpit reflectively, thoughts tumbling through her mind, of the ship, the crew she had seen and of course what she was to do next. So far, Mal and Zoe seemed willing enough to aid her and she hoped that would stay true. She needed all the help she could get with that shifty fellow on the opposing side. Turning her thoughts aside from the much too grim she looked over at the younger Core fellow and gave a nod as well, mouth easing a trifle.

It was obvious he was a doctor, he had the same air her brother did, calm, quiet, much more formal but the similarity was there. Her mouth quirked a bit further at Mal’s line and she nodded “Ye should see him work at that, he tells the nicest stories during hair braiding time, made me all warm and fuzzy inside” she replied, voice between deadpan and snark. Jayne had to be the large fellow that had crashed into a wall and she felt a bit of pity for the man, Alliance had all sorts of fancy, nasty tools and that mace was one of the worse. Watching Simon go, Hawk nodded, tenseness appearing around her face again “Friend av mine was taken by the Alliance, roughed up pretty badly before that, I need to track him down.” She stated, and frowned “If I knew where to start, that would be av great help, but for now we had to run off planet to not end up like Sern, he could still be there, or in a ship…it’s hard te tell.” She added lamely, frustration flaring in her eyes a moment.
 
Wash turned in his chair to look at Hawk then, his eyebrows raising,

"The Alliance took your friend?" he repeated, his big eyes shifting around the room for a moment like ping pong balls before bouncing back to Hawk again, "I don't mean to sound judgemental here but - did you break any laws? I mean, I know that the Alliance is basically the devil, but they don't usually go after someone unless they're - wanted for something."

Mal stared hard at Wash, who shrank back only slightly, but his voice remained firm,

"What? Let's be fair here Mal, you thought the same thing about Simon and River, the only difference here is that she didn't pop out of a freezer," Wash said, gesturing to Hawk, "It's just, I think we need full disclosure here, browncoat or not. We should ask at the very least, right?"

Mal's shoulders were stiff for a long moment, and then he let out a breath; there was no way Mal would apologize or admit that Wash had a point, but he turned to Hawk then,

"Anything we oughta know about?" he asked, and then waited for half a second before adding, "No? Good."

He turned to Zoe now,

"Now that's settled, we're gonna have to find out about any Alliance crafts that were in the area, best we can do to figure this out. Could be anywhere by now. The guy who held you, what'd he look like -" Mal began, but suddenly fell silent, because River was back, standing in the doorway with wide eyes, clutching the chair leg in her hands, her eyes pinned onto Hawk.

"Will you walk into my parlour?" she asked, walking towards Hawk now, unblinking, the light reflecting off her enormous eyes; she tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear, "'Tis the prettiest parlour that ever you may spy, the way into my parlor is up a winding stair, and I have many curious things to show when you are there."

She was only inches away from Hawk then, side-stepping up to her.

"What's going on?" Wash asked, alarmed.

"He dragged her up his winding stair, into the dismal den, within his little parlor," River said, "But she never came out again."

There was a painfully long silence, and River looked down at the chair leg in her hands, and her expression twisted into one of child-like confusion, and then her bottom lip began to tremble,

"Rimaru took his words from him, tore them right out of his mouth while he screamed." River said, and then suddenly pitched the chair leg to the floor, and began to scream. In an instant Simon was in the room again, trying to put his hands on her shoulder, but she was pushing him away, shrieking and hitting her brother, even managing to knock him back for a moment, "No! No!"

And then suddenly she was silent, Simon holding his arms around her, clutching her close to his chest.

And Wash looked at the chair leg, and slowly dragged his eyes up to Mal, who had a strange, unreadable expression.
 
Hawk stiffened a bit, colour blooming on her face as Wash spoke, it was a valid question, yet part of her resented the asking. She gave a shrug “No more then what’s needed te survive out here. Anyone that’s died by my hand was trying te kill me, never trafficked in drugs or slaves and kept away from more overly shady deals.” She replied evenly, hiding a faint smile at Mal’s odd faith that she was a trustworthy person. She was, and it was an easy idea to see how anyone wouldn’t be out here in the Black, yet having someone on the look-out for her besides Sern was nice.

About to explain what little she knew of why Rimaru had stepped in, she paused as River returned transfixing her with those large doe eyes. A slow chill ran down her spine while the girl spoke and a distant memory pricked her sense as the childhood poem ran in her mind. 'Oh no, no," said the little fly; "to ask me is in vain, For who goes up your winding stair can ne'er come down again." ' Hawk thought uncomfortably, the unease plainly there as she spoke on, the woman’s body tensing a bit. The faint colour to her face drained away, the faint freckles standing out as River began to shout and Hawk’s eyes widened, mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ her mind surging with images of what has happening to her friend and she clenched her fists hard, eyes narrowing “How’d she know the name? I never even told any av ye.” She stated, voice cool, and calm terse at the edges.

She was trying very hard not to lash out at the girl, whatever she was spouting, however she knew…it distressed her to know it more then it did Hawk to hear it. Swallowing, she watched them both “Lass?” she asked, after a moment, tone gentling with an effort “Take a breath, nice and slow, tell me how ye knew that poem, it’s quite an old one.” She stated, trying to get calm her, as her mind raced and tumbled with panicky thoughts and a tightness closed around her chest, wondering just how much time they had left “Anything on the radar?” she asked, looking over at Wash and Mal, torn between wanting to search on her own and look for more aid then she had already received.
 
Simon was clutching River, who was suddenly so still and silent that one might scarcely be able to believe she was still alive, her face buried against her brother's shirt; he could feel her tears soaking through the material, and it broke his heart all over again. He stroked a hand through her hair, and pressed his lips to the top of her head, trying to soothe the small girl, and the way he was holding her made it look like he was afraid to even let go of her.

"River reads everything, anything she can get her hands on," Simon replied promptly, "She has - episodes - sometimes. It's hard to explain."

There was a long silence, and then he spoke again,

"Who's Rimaru?" Simon asked, and suddenly his voice was hard and harsh-sounding, as though he wanted to find the man himself and tear him apart, and his eyes shifted individually to everyone in the room, seeking information from the gaze alone, and his eyes settled on Hawk for an instant before double-taking to Mal. Something wasn't right about his expression; Mal, who usually only wore a look of vague bemusement to confuse people into thinking he was a complete idiot - but there was something about the way his mouth had twisted, like he wanted to spit out something terrible.

"Alliance," Zoe said, as Mal made it clear he wasn't eager to speak on the matter, "But this isn't the kind that will take you prisoner and read you your rights - Rimaru isn't just a foot-soldier, he's ranked so high that they don't even really have a title for him. At least, the Alliance doesn't. But we called him a spider."

"Because he's got long legs?" Wash asked hopefully.

"Yes." Zoe said, and Wash looked relieved, "And because he liked to tie up his victims and drain their blood."

Wash ceased looking relieved.

"He was around for Serenity Valley and every battle that came after - he hated browncoats. Still does, by the look of it. During interrogation, said he'd see us all dead one day," Zoe said, and she and Mal exchanged looks for an instant, but ever-watchful Simon caught it.

"He just said it, just started - monologuing like that?" Simon asked, and his eyes were on Mal, "Or someone did something that made him lose his temper."

Mal scratched his nose and looked at the ceiling.

"We should talk to Mr. Universe." Wash said, "He can give us some direction."
 
Hawk nodded at Simon’s explanation, truly only half hearing it. The way the girl wept and clung to her brother made part of her twist in sympathy and the other become frantic with the need to find Sern and do something, instead of just standing about like a moon-brain. Her jaw so tense that she could swear everyone could hear it creaking she listened to Zoe, stomach clenching coldly, the gash above her jawline began to ache sharply, and she ignored it speaking up “I remember him, or mention av him at least. Never saw the man in the War, but his name ran circuits among the other squadrons, became somethin’ av a ghoulish legend in our Brigade….the Spider, they called him, that’s right.” She muttered, fists tensing until her knuckles went white. And that bastard had Sern, she cursed herself an idiot for not recalling that earlier, for not doing something, for not thinking of a plan, or returning earlier. For all the hundreds of things she could have done, or couldn’t have done and for the fact that she hadn’t much of a leg to stand on right as of now.

A sick look crossed her face as the word spider really hit her, spiders could keep their prey for days, and a Alliance with a Browncoat, especially one like Sern was exactly like a spider and a fly. It was of hard telling on how long Rimaru would keep Sern alive, and River’s comment of Sern’s words being torn from his mouth made her swallow hard, somehow that sounded much more literal then she wanted to know. Her mind attempted to switch tactics, Sern was a tough old beggar and no matter what was done to him he’d pull through, through sheer mule-headed stubbornness, and the pure relish of sticking it to the Alliance once again and letting an Independent slip through their fingers “Alliance usually is one te hold long grudges, sometimes it’s warranted, other times it’s the petty gorram need to say that they won at long last…even after the War’s done.” She stated, and raised a brow at Wash’s suggestion “The Universe? He’s a legend.” She commented, disbelief in her voice at that idea, even if it was all they had going for them.
 
Simon was watching Hawk as she spoke, and his dark eyes were fixed on her face; it would take only a moment to realize that he was staring at the open, leaking gash in her face with the fixation that only a doctor can have,

"I'm going to," Simon said, his body moving even as his eyes seemed to stay in exactly the same spot, one arm securely around River's thin shoulders, directing her along with him and towards the door, "Go get some equipment to take care of that wound. It needs to be sutured."

"Doc's right, you should probably head over and get that fixed," Wash said, noticing the cut on her face as well, even while his hands dialed absently for Mr. Universe; the screen ahead filled with static for a moment, and then cut suddenly to a pale face and wide, dark eyes. Mr. Universe stared back at them from his console, his eyebrows raised,

"I hesitate to answer any calls these days, but you guys always have something interesting going on, you know?" Mr. Universe said, "Call went in a couple hours ago from an Alliance transport, Mal, some very powerful and angry men are looking for a Browncoat, you wouldn't know anything about that would you? I mean, that wouldn't be why you'd interrupt my lunch, right?"

He looked at Hawk then,

"Why, hello there," he said, "Gotta hand it to you Mal, you always have the prettiest crew. You too, Jayne, looking good."

"Fugoff" Jayne replied from behind his ice pack as he passed by the door.
 
Hawk felt a brow raise at Simon's stare and her attention was diverted briefly to the gash above her jaw. “I’ll get te it Doc, not a worry.” She replied idly, watching them go as she turned to the screen, staring a moment at the dark eyed, rumple haired fellow known as Mr. Universe. She felt a disconcerting mix of amusement and faint disappointment. After all it wasn’t everyday that one saw what was a legend of the Black, it was entirely another thing to see that said legend was what looked to be a skinny, curly haired hyperactive flirt. And who was that in the background? Some blonde from what she could tell, three seconds into the wave and the man was already a gorram enigma.

Her mind ignored any more disappointment of human legends as he spoke, an intense glint flaring in her dark blue green eyes at the mention of Alliance “I try and take care av myself.” Hawk deadpanned, completely aware of her dusty, battered appearance. She was rigidly tense right now, mouth pressed into a thin line as she stepped towards the video screen ”What can ye tell me…ah, us?” she asked, forgetting a moment whose ship she was on and who was the Captain. After all piloting a handful of crafts on your own with one other crew member tended to make your world in the Black small at times. She shot Mal an apologetic shrug, quickly turning back to the screen, waiting.

(Blah, shortish, apologies. Want me to take any other of the crew, to even things out?)
 
"I'd like to help you take care of yourself sometime," Mr. Universe replied without missing a beat, and even waggled his eyebrows at Hawk before rolling back to the subject, mostly because of the look Mal was giving him, "Hey, Mal, you're looking big and scary right now. I'm just gonna go ahead and guess that this whole Unification Day has got you and your brown booties in a bit of a bind."

"Wonderful alliteration." Simon said drily.

"Thanks," Mr. Universe said, tossing a 100-watt grin at him, "Look, the radio that went out a while ago, it was definitely Alliance, but it was hailed from a level that I've only seen once or twice. Whoever made this radio is a powerful guy in the eyes of the Alliance, and he's out for the blood of a browncoat, and I'm also going to guess that it's no coincidence that you've got an obvious and brank-spankin' new browncoat on board your ship, Mal. She's got the same swagger as you. You'd better not be risking my lily white skin for this."

"You're Mr. Universe. You'll be fine." Mal replied, gesturing vaguely at the screen, "You've got all that - technology - n'stuff."

"So articulate." Mr. Universe sighed, "Alright, well, the initial radio came from Persephone, and with power like that guy has, I naturally stalked the signal for a while."

"Naturally."

"Anyways, got an Alliance class cruiser - weirdest looking thing - it's about twenty miles North of you, looks like it's heading for Greenleaf."

"Ta ma de! Alliance territory," Wash hissed.
 
Hawk’s mouth twitched with a faint smirk, the fellow reminded her of her twin, an unrepentant flirt as well. “I’m sure ye would. But, get down te brass tacks, Unification Day gets me in a rough mood, this one in particular.” She commented briefly as Mal glared, listening intently as while Mr. Universe spoke, feeling her stomach clench hard. Swallowing, she nodded once “No it’s not and it’s news that rounds out my day wonderfully.” She muttered, eyes darkening with the prospect of what lay before her. It was more obvious now that Rimaru was someone in a higher chain, with the two officers he had commanded and the way that his mere presence seemed to speak of true power and authority.

He wasn’t a regular officer that was a power hungry prick; this man had a blood-grudge and would see it through to the end. It was also an unhappy coincidence that he had found Sern, who had been the Captain in those days of their Drop Squadron, and had been damned good at him. She felt a sick, churning feel of worry at the allies they had left, of Mal and Zoe and herself, as well as what was happening to Sern as of now. “He’s an Alliance high ranking officer, of course he’d go somewhere that he canae be touched. Do ye know where he’d be landing? Can ye find out? How large is the ship?” Hawk asked, accent thickening a mite as she fired questions at Mr. Universe, arms locked behind her, her mind racing at what, if anything could be done to find Sern and yank him from the proverbial jaws of the beast.

(So I'm still developing what Sern and Hawk did in the war and may change what I said as time goes on.))
 
Mr. Universe was watching her; he was leaning his chin on his fist, a ringlet of his hair hanging over his eye, his eyebrows raised and he was just watching in silence as Hawk shot out question after question - his expression even looked vaguely amused, as though her boldness had struck a funny bone. When she was done, he remained quiet for another few moments, and then his eyes shifted slowly to Mal,

"That's just incredible," he said, "Where did you find her? Seriously, I want one."

"If you're going to be pithy I can just talk to the guys back at flight school," Wash called out casually, and Mr. Universe sighed.

"Man, hack into one university registrar and it never goes away," he said, "Alright, alright. The size - a little bigger than your Firefly, definitely more advanced, though you've got the advantage in that Serenity has all the customized movable bits that your pretty little mechanic put in. The Alliance ships are like an apartment complex run by a despot, the way they come is the way they stay - punch a hole in it and you won't get your deposit back from the landlord. They aren't made to be fixed on the run. There hasn't been any mention of where they're landing, but when I find out I'll, uh, call you."
 
His amusement and quips was begininng to rankle her and Hawk set her jaw, eyes narrowing as he spoke to Mal. This was definately not the time for jokes, so she felt a surge of grateful relief as Wash turned Mr. universe back on track. The idea of customizable parts of the ship hovered in her mind and she set it aside for exploration later on, if she saw the ship she could have an idea of how and where to hit it, her old training from the war coming flooding back. It left a bas taste in her mouth and she felt herself nod, lost in thought still.

"Thank ye, it's appreciated. Really." she replied, tone grateful as she shook herself. Raising a hand she rubbed the back of her neck, staring out at the Black with eyes that weren't really paying attention at all. "How far away te Greenleaf?" she asked, voice a trifle distant, even though she had an idea already or would if she took a look at the radar. She was deep enough in thought and worry to not think of such simply situations as of now.
 
Mr. Universe dissappeared from the screen then, leaving a strange quiet on the deck until Hawk spoke again, and Wash looked over at her with his big blue eyes full of apology, as though it was all somehow his fault,

"Even if we're really burning cells, it's gonna take at least eighteen hours to reach Greenleaf," Wash said, and his eyes flicked to Mal, then back to Hawk, "That's - if we're going. I mean, considering we now technically have - three fugitives on board, instead of just two."

"Head for Greenleaf; we ain't got any ideas 'fore then, then we'll just - land and punch some people in the face." Mal said, turning to Hawk now, "Meantime, you're gettin' your face fixed up by the doc, an' we're gonna have a talk."

"Not at the same time though," Wash supplied helpfully, "Because getting your face stitched and recounting war stories doesn't usually work in unison."

"An' then the doc's gonna sew our pilot's lips shut," Mal added without missing a beat, and Wash turned to Zoe, "Why do I like him?"

"You don't," Mal called back as he headed out.

"Oh right." Wash replied, "I just stick around to get electrocuted and watch you get bits cut off."

"That was once!"
 
Hawk stirred enough to smile at Wash, her gash pulling a mite. Shaking her head she shrugged "It's not ye're fault, can't be helped that I found ye're Captain and first mate in that tavern. 'Tis the way it is." she murmured, wincing a bit at the length of time, feeling that crazed sense of desperation fill her once more. "This a habit av ye'rs Captain, takin' on problem cases?" she asked, raising a brow as she looked over at the Captain feeling some small sense of ease as he spoke, even if the plan was an impossible one it made her feel better that he was at least willing to ride some part of it out. "I know some bits av sign language, or I can mime, would miming work?" she asked, smirking a moment the odd sense of easy banter that she possessed with Sern urging her to be a little light hearted. That crashed and burned in an instant and for a moment she did not key into Wash and Mal's interplay as she followed Mal, silent a moment. "Bits cut off? Ye've an odd crew Captain....but they seem te be good folk." she mused, looking about the old battered insides of the ship with vague interest.
 
"More'n you know," Mal said, leading Hawk across the platform, over the bridge in the direction of the medical ward, "But we don't so much take 'em on as we get taken in by 'em. That is to say, they sort of find us, not the other way 'round. Can't be certain as to why, but I'd say it's just our good fortunes."

Down a flight of stairs, and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug,

"Had a bad day, guy cut my ear off," Mal explained, and then pointed at said ear, adding brightly, "I got it back. Don't work as well, but the doc did a fair job getting it back on, least my head isn't uneven."

He led her into the med ward then, where Simon was waiting with sutures.
 
"Ye seem te be fortunate in that respect. I hope it keeps up." she commented, tone idle, an odd sense of comfort weighing against the deep set worry that she felt. "It could be a few things, the Captain, the ship....seems like a place that ye can feel safe, or free. Well, that's most any ship in the Black." she mused, walking with Mal and keeping pace. When he spoke of his run in with someone less then friendly, she quirked a brow, giving a speculative glance over the ear he tugged, her mouth tugging in an imperceptible smile "That would be a tragedy." she commented, entering the white infirmary, trying not to think of how much Sern would have to be put together as she nodded at Simon. "'Lo Doc, sorry te keep ye waiting." she stated, taking a seat on the medical bench.
 
Mal nodded in agreement,

"Nothing worse than a lopsided head, then I'd be running around listening to my shoulder all day rather'n the sound of tiny feet pitter-pattering in huge combat boots 'cross the grates." he said, a cheerful sort of sarcasm strung haphazardly through his words, and he exchanged a terribly brief eye contact with Simon as the young doctor began to pick up his supplies. There was no denying that there was a friction between the two men, and it showed in the way they eyed eachother - but there was also an amount of respect there, enough that they hadn't killed eachother anyways.

"It's alright." Simon said; the man had the patience of a saint anyways and probably would have stood in the same spot for a week if that was how long it took for Hawk to get there; he approached her as she set herself on the table, and his gloved fingers very gently touched at her cheek as he inspected the wound, "Yes, this definitely needed to be addressed; I'm suprised you're not in more pain."

A pause,

"Of course, you are a browncoat." he murmured.
 
(Heh, you called him Nathan.)

"Never know, ye're shoulder may be talkative. And ye mean the- ah young lass right?" she asked, biting off the word 'spoggly' as she entered the infirmary, it would not do to say something to offend the doctor, especially since she had no idea of why the girl acted strangely. Seating herself on the infirmary bed she kept an eye on the Captain and the Doctor, seeing a tenseness that pervaded the room wondering what had caused it. With a mental shrug, she gave a thin smile at the doc, wincing faintly at the light pull of the gash. "Exactly Doc, that and the surge av adrenaline that's been racing since I got te the bar." she replied easily, finding herself waiting for a smart-ass comment from Sern and not having it come. The smile slipped away and she rubbed a chafed wrist lightly keeping still to let Simon do his work.
 
"As charming as the Captain is," Simon remarked calmly as he pulled the sutures through the wound, his hand incredibly steady, "You'll be better off not smiling for the next little while, if you can help it. If you flex your cheek muscle too much within the next few days, you're liable to rip these stitches, it's a touchy place."

"But then we can call you Ripper," Mal said, as though he had found some silver lining in it all; Simon gave Mal a sideways look then, an almost confused expression, before turning his eyes back to the stitching.

And then, from somewhere low to the ground, a small voice spoke:

"Felt alone."

Mal started, and then went down onto his haunches, one hand levelled on the operating table as he peered under it; in the hollow area beneath it, River was sitting cross-legged, winding and unwinding her hair around her fingers, staring down at her knees,

"She likes small places," Simon said, unphased by his sister's hideout as he finished up the suturing, snipping the remaining thread and stepping back to cock his head at his work; it was flawless, but he always checked to make sure, "I'm not sure why - they seem to comfort her."

River looked up then, and stared at Mal,

"Stray dog felt all alone," she said miserably, "Shaggy mutt with a folded ear, lost the fight and lost his pack, wandered by himself into the black, came back two-strong but still felt all alone."

She shifted then, coming forward so she was on her hands and knees, shifting until she was leaning in towards Mal, her huge eyes coming so close that Mal suddenly felt uncomfortable; their noses were nearly touching.

"Limped on for miles and miles until he found other strays, and they moved together like one but he still wasn't quite right, because - because something was missing," River said, and her voice began to sound excited, like a child recounting a fairy tale, and a slow, wry smile crossed her little face,

"But the shaggy mutt didn't know the bird with the broken wing could make him feel like himself again, he'll carry her on his back for miles more and won't know that once she heals - that she can help him fly."

There was a remarkable silence in the room then, and even Simon had gone still; it was a very long time before Mal spoke, and he said very slowly:

"Dogs don't fly."

And then River slapped him across the face, crawled out from under the table, and left the room, leaving Mal on his haunches and looking confused.
 
Hawk kept still, the biting pain of the suturing making her tighten a fist. She gave a sidelong glance to Mal, amusement showing faintly in her eyes while her mouth remained steady. About to respond that she already had a nickname, she blinked, the soft small voice gaining her attention. The woman cast her eyes down, not able to see the girl, only a vague shadow and kept seated on the bed, having the sense that too many faces could be unnerving. Hawk nodded "I did, when I was a lass." she murmured, speaking felt odd, with the gash sewed into place. "Smaller places feel safer, they become yours, no one else can come inside. Maybe that's a help for her." she replied, keeping her voice quiet.

She paused, listening to the girl's small speech. Hawk was an imaginative woman and she suddenly saw a scruffy, downtrodden mongrel with a ear that flopped comically trotting about in the stars alone. That was until it found another, both scampering in the Black, a small little pack against the vastness of space. The pull of the story drew her in and she relaxed, letting the girl's words wash over her. A small bird of prey with a wing that lay awkwardly against its side joined the tale, riding on the shaggy dog's back as it healed slowly, lifting off into the air once more, the little dog at its side. It made her want to laugh, the image so incongruous but she refrained not wanting to split the gash once more. The sound of Mal getting slapped made Hawk leave the table and she crouched as well, the tiniest smile on her face "I think ye missed the point." she murmured, amused.
 
Mal rocked back on his heels for a moment, his expression pulled into one of immense confusion,

"Did I?" he asked, astounded and oblivious, and he looked up at Simon, who simply nodded his head in agreement with Hawk that, yes, the Captain had indeed missed the point, though he would politely refrain from saying so because, really, he didn't need to. Besides that, Simon found he almost approved of River's act of violence, because on occasion he was certain the Captain of the Serenity could use getting some sense beaten into him; the Doctor was aware that Mal wasn't the idiot he tried to look like, but the man insisted on keeping the facade.

Ultimately, Simon had discovered that beneath the blank expressions, Mal was intelligent - but he had a different kind of intelligence than the doctor. Simon's was a strictly educational intelligence, as a doctor, he was in the top five in the known universe, but he was fairly certain that Malcolm Reynolds was without competition - his knowledge and ability was a more rudimentary sort, but Simon knew that he would never be able to do some of the things the Captain did.

Then Wash's voice crackled over the radio,

"We got an incoming from Persephone."

"Oh, good. That'll be a job, then." Mal said, mind already off of what had happened.

"You don't actually intend to take another job from Badger after the trouble we had last time, do you?" Simon asked, and then instantly regretted it, because Mal gave him the blank stare, and was silent for a long moment.

"Yeah." Mal said finally, and then headed out of the medical room and back towards the controls, gesturing for Hawk to follow.

"Fantastic." Simon sighed.
 
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