Out to the Black, Firefly, PG-13

[phantisma]

Fandom: Firefly
Title: Out to the Black
Pairing/Characters: Malcolm Reynolds, River Tam, some Mal/River
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3008
Summary: After the events of "Serenity" Malcolm Reynolds found the verse a darkening place in which to live, and he succeeded on driving away those who cared for him in an unconscious effort to keep them safe, eventually ending up alone, broke, grounded and drunk somewhere on the skirts of the known worlds. At least until River takes it upon herself to rescue him.

A/Ns & Warnings: For rivestra because she is wonderful and amazing and rocks my world! I hope it lives up to your expectations. It went on a totally different track than I had in mind originally.




It was Unification Day, and Malcolm Reynolds don't let that pass without taking note, even if the "celebrating" (and by celebrating he means getting very drunk and finding a fight) is getting mighty hard to come by anymore, what with the Alliance falling out of favor and the whole Independence thing that happened some odd years back.

Still, he managed to find a shirt that isn't too awfully filthy and doesn't stink of throw up or gunpowder and he slid himself out of his hole and down to the nearest bar-like establishment to be found.

And considering this here was a nearly dry planet, that ain't easy to come by either. What drinking holes there were had mostly banned him for life, except the shit ones, which ain't no place to find Alliance sympathizers to pick a fight with.

The day was dark and overcast and still too bright for him as he stumbled along the street, holding on to walls as he could to keep from falling down. "Gonna rain," the old man said from his chair, sitting outside the new store selling fancy foods from the big city.

"Might at that." Mal responded, mostly 'cause it's just nice to have someone to say something to. It had been a while. They all left him. Even Serenity.

Mal pushed his way into the bar, scowling a little at the locals who turned to stare. He makes his way up to the bar, pulling a stool close and easing onto it. Days like this, with the weather and his attitude, old injuries flare up, remind him why he's here, how it got this dismal.

Makes a man powerful thirsty.

He dropped money on the bar and a glass appeared before him, filled with a strong smelling alcohol of questionable background. It might have been whiskey. Might have been something else entirely. Mal didn't ask, just lifted the glass in salute to the fallen and forgotten and downed it before holding out the glass for more.

The problem was that he don't forget. Hard as he tried. And he tried plenty hard.

They had been heroes. Got the truth out, made people start to seeing what the Alliance really was, let them see the darkness that breeds in the black hearts of power.

They got Serenity back in the air, without Wash. Without Shepard Book. It weren't the same, but they tried. At least at first. Said they'd carry on, keep the faith. Something.

But that ain't the way it happened.


Inara was the first to go. Again. She went back to her fancy training house, said she couldn't watch him destroy himself. Said lots of things, most of which he chooses not to remember.

It's her face mostly he remembers, and her hair. He always did love the smell of her hair. Never told her that. Maybe he should have. Maybe he should have told her lots of things.

They lost Jayne on a job. Mal still remembers the blood. Sometimes he can still feel it on his hands, on his face. Saved Kaylee's life he did. Went out a hero, and pissed about it.

Simon left after the Alliance fell and he could go back to being the fancy doctor in the Core. River went with him, and Mal was surprised to find how much that bothered him. Not just the girl, though he'd grown a soft spot for her, but Simon was a right good doctor and Mal was always needing one of them around.

It fell apart pretty fast after that, Kaylee and Zoe and him weren't enough to keep Serenity flying and one too many times she fell and just couldn't get back up again.

There was a while Kaylee visited when she could. Zoe hung around until he chased her off, and Mal just crawled deeper and deeper into his pain. He crawled off the semi-civilized planet where they buried Serenity, taking passage on whatever transport he could find to whatever ugly place would have him, working as a hired gun for ranchers out on the edge.

And that was a lifetime ago.

Mal downed another shot and held out the glass. He'd been alone longer than he'd had them all together. Told himself he liked it that way. Told himself he wasn't beholding to anyone and lack of responsibility suited him. Told himself lots of things.

"I ain't having no fighting in here," the bartender said when Mal held out his glass for more.

"Ain't looking for a fight." Mal offered, shaking the glass. "Just want some of that fine swill you be pouring."

"Gŏu pì, Mal. Don't lie. You ain't very good at it when you been drinking." Still, the bartender poured the drink. "You sit there like a good boy and drink, and I'll pour. Your ass moves from the stool or you talk to anyone what ain't me, I'm kicking you out."

"Sounds fair." Mal said, lifting the drink in salute.

"Ain't like you ever win the damn fight anyway, don't know why you keep picking them."

"Because he likes the way the pain paints pretty flowers in his head."

A small hand landed on the bar next to him, familiar somehow. Mal turned slow, the shot nearly to his mouth. She smiled at him. It was like watching a sun come round a planet and fill the sky. Her hand reached out to take the shot, downing it herself, then making a face. "Ew, no wonder he picks fights. That stuff will rot your brain."

Mal gaped at her, at the long dark hair, at her sparkling eyes, at the full roundness of her lips. She was a little more filled out than the last time he saw her, but she still wore combat boots with her slip of a dress. "If it isn't my little Albatross." Mal said, stealing the glass back and giving it back to the bartender.

River's hand slid out onto the bar. Mal could feel her eyes on him, could practically feel her reading him. "We'll take a bottle of your best." River said, her hand sliding back and leaving money in her wake. "To go."

Her eyes never left Mal's face, though Mal couldn't bring himself to look back at her. He watched the bottle land in her hand, then her other hand was under his shoulder. "Come on."

"Wait. We going somewhere?" Mal stumbled a little, dropping the glass back on the bar.

"Away from here." River said, leading him toward the door.

The skies were darker than when he'd crawled inside, big drops of rain just beginning to fall. Soon the streets would be little more than impassable tracks of mud. "Not yet." River said softly. "Plenty of time."

"Time for what?" Mal asked.

Her arm slipped off his and around his waist and she offered him the bottle. "To get you some place safe."

"Safe from what?"

She smiled at him and he kind of forgot what he was asking. "It's good to see you."

She steered him through the streets, around a building to where a small ship was sitting. "I know it isn't Serenity, but I thought you might like her anyway."

Mal got the bottle open and took a long swig, letting the sweet burn of a fine whiskey fill him up for a moment. "She yours?" Mal asked as River headed up her ramp.

"Yep, all mine." River smiled again, though somehow he thought maybe it was for show, like she didn't really mean it. Her face clouded up. "You don't like her?"

Mal tried to shrug, but lost the gesture as he slipped on the rocky ground. "She's a right fine piece of work River. Right fine. Shiny even."

River's hands held to something over her head and she leaned down to see him. "I call her Hope. Come on, I'll show you around."

Thunder crashed through the sky, rumbling under his feet as the big fat drops turned to cold lashes of rain and Mal figured that inside the ship was likely to be dried and warmer, so he lurched forward, letting River take his hand and lead him in.

The ship was more spacious than he might have believed, with sleeping quarters and crew quarters and a common area that was part kitchen, part lounge just behind the cockpit. The cargo bay was smaller than Serenity's but enough to haul a load.

The thunder kept rumbling and the rain was pounding against the roof as they finished the tour. "Can't go out there." River said as the passed the hatch and her fingers moved over the controls. "Safer here." She smiled again and threaded her arm through his. "With me."

"You're up to something."

"You. I'm up to you." River insisted, drawing him back to the common area. "I've been looking for you for a long time."

"What, you couldn't just know it?"

She pushed him back until he was sitting, then hitched up her skirt and straddled over his legs, taking the bottle away from him and drinking from it. "You know it doesn't work like that."

"Actually, I don't. You left before I learned." Mal said, the bitterness creeping into his voice.

She put the bottle down and nodded seriously. "I know. I did. I'm sorry."

That weren't what he was expecting and he frowned at her. "Should be. Hurt my feelings."

She shifted closer and leaned in, her dark hair cascading around them. "Maybe you should have asked me to stay."

Mal didn't really know how to react to that. She lifted the bottle, tilting her head back and taking a long swallow. He couldn't help but watch her throat work, his fingers twitching on the couch beside him.

"Why you here?" Mal asked after a long silence.

"I wanted a drink with an old friend." River said, though she didn't meet his eyes. "Wanted to remember."

"Right, 'cause we had all them good times."

She nodded slow, like she was answering some question he didn't ask. "We had some. And we'll have more. Soon." She handed him the bottle. "Hungry?"

He took the bottle and reached for her with his other hand, but she was off and gone and he got only empty air as she flitted into the kitchen. "What?"

"Food." She peeked around at him. "What normal people live on. When they're not drinking rot gut whiskey at a dive bar on some lost backwater planet with no name."

A few minutes later he could smell it, actual real food. With actual real meat and vegetables. Not ten minutes later, River was shoving a plate under his nose. "Eat."

It had been a long time since he'd had anything fresh. Years even. He ate like a starving man given his last meal. River watched him eat and after a bit it got him to feeling self-conscious. "Right good meal."

Her smile was quirky. "I get by. Figured you hadn't eaten in a while."

She cleared the dishes and as she came back toward him, Mal lurched to his feet, grabbing her hand. "Why are you really here?"

Lithe as ever, she slid into his arms, her hands caressing up his back. "I missed you."

He thought he must be drunker than he should be, because the world sort of tilted when she kissed him. Her eyes were soft and pretty and he felt like he was just falling into them, though he was pretty sure that made no sense.

"I've got you, Captain." River said softly. "I've got you." And that was the last thing he heard before the dark swallowed him up.



The bed smelled vaguely like girl, soft and feminine and nothing like his bed. It took him a lot of thinking and a lot of looking, squinting at the blankets and pillows and the clean everywhere to begin to remember where he was.

It didn't help that he was thinking through a swirl of hangover…and something else. He sat up fast as he recognized the feeling of drugs lingering, his tongue thick and flat and metallic and his thoughts moving more slowly than usual.

River.

She'd drugged him. His head reeled a little as he put his feet on the deck under him. The ship was airborne, he could feel the hum of her engines through the metal under his bare feet.

Bare.

Like his chest.

A quick glance down brought the relief of knowing that she hadn't gone that far, and his pants were still in place. He got to his feet and lurched out of the cabin, trying to keep his stomach contents in and his head up.

River was on the bridge, humming to herself, bare feet propped up on a console. She leaned back, looking at him upside down. "You're up."

"You drugged me."

She shook her head as she sat back up. "Medicated. Perfectly safe. Simon gave it to me."

"You drugged me." He staggered in to sit in the empty chair, looking out into the black. "And kidnapped me."

"I rescued you." River countered, her eyes narrowing. "Ship needs a captain."

"Your ship, you captain." Mal said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He didn't want this. Gave up flying when he had to ground Serenity. Didn't need it anymore. That's what he'd been telling himself for the last ten years. "And take me home."

"Can't." River's feet slid to the floor.

Under him, he could feel the sleek engines of the ship, the power kept tightly coiled, the roar she wanted to let loose, the way it felt good…like something he'd lost. It felt like everything he'd been craving for the last ten years.

"Kinda like home." River murmured.

"Would you cut that out?" Mal sat up, shaking his head. "I got no need of you in my head. Ain't room enough for two."

She turned and looked at him, her eyes bright, like they'd get when she'd say troubling things. "Can't take you someplace you don't have." She turned her attention to the console. "We got about two hours before we make Persephone."

Mal frowned at her. "What's on Persephone?"

"Job. Cargo." She set a few controls, then turned to him.

"And why am I here?"

She tilted her head to look at him like he was a very strange man…which he supposed he might just be to her. "I told you."

He nodded slowly. "Because you rescued me."

"Yes."

"From what, exactly?" Maybe it was the hangover, or the leftover drugs, or the way his head was spinning with the idea of being up in the air again after so long, but none of this was making sense.

"The boogie man." She said it so seriously, and turned her eyes back to the console so Mal couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"There ain't no such thing. Now I'm being serious. You best get to telling me what this is all about."

"I got me a ship. She needs a captain. You needed rescuing. Got a job that needs doing. Simple." She was doing that annoying thing where she talked like him, only it sounded nothing like him. "You best just get to reckoning you are where you should be."

And that was the heart of it right there. She didn't look at him, but he could feel her eyes anyway. He turned away, looked at the walls, at the decking. He didn't belong here. Here was new and clean and shiny. Here was not there. Here didn't come with tarnished metal and wires dangling out of panels that ain't even close to what they had been once upon a time. Here wasn't crusted in blood and mud and sweat and tears, knee deep in loss and self-pity and loathing so deep it pulled him under.

She stood, easing over the short distance between them with that cat-like grace that used to make him itch in all the wrong places.

Still did, judging by the way his body reacted. She straddled over him, settling down onto his lap to run her fingers through his hair. "How's your head?" Her voice was soft, her fingers tender as they explored his forehead as though he'd hit it recently.

"Hmmm?" Mal blinked, shaking his head, trying to clear it and will his body into submission.

She kissed over his forehead. "Your head. How is it?"

"Fuzzy." Mal said, his eyes closing again as her fingers stroked over his face. "What…what are you doing?"

"Relax." She whispered the word in his ear, her breath warm.

"Easy for you to say." Mal murmured back to her, his hands lifting, settling on her hips, then falling away because he couldn't, shouldn't.

"It's okay." River said, her eyes on his, her finger sliding over his lips.

"Not." Though he's having a difficult time figuring out why not with his lap full of her and her very grown up body. "Simon—" His voice cracked and he had to clear his throat. "Would kill me."

"Simon isn't here." River said just before she kissed him. And not that little girl peck he used to get from her. No. The girl kissed him. With her whole body.

His hands rose back to her hips of their own accord, settling on the curve there as she pressed against him, her body lithe and warm, her mouth demanding and yet soft. "I am so going to the special hell." Mal whispered and she smiled, her lips still against his.

"But you won't be alone." She moved against him in a way that was anything but childish, his whole body alive with need. Her tongue slid over his chin and onto his throat and he might have whimpered. Maybe. "Got two whole hours…" She licked up the side of his face, up to his ear. "And what I got in mind is something you'd never find in hell."

Or in the dark pit that nearly swallowed him, he'd reckon.

"Still not your captain."