Serenity story for charlie pt 1 (hope it loads this time!)

[wytchcroft]

Independently Blue:

this fic is inspired by characters and situations created by joss whedon, tim minear and brett matthews, i have no claim or copyright on this material.
PG-13 - part one.
this story is set quite some time after Serenity the movie but flashes back to episodes from the firefly series.

Objects in Space. Funny how many things in life come down to that.
Given the chance Inara Serra might have reflected ruefully on the truth of it.
But time was a luxury she was frequently forced to for-go, and so this is the story of a bar stool, a head -
and if not star-crossed love... then certainly crossed eyes seeing stars.

Anyhow the story goes something like this.
Woman walks into a bar -
No wait, I'll back it up some.

Inara Serra's shuttle tucked itself like a chick under the protective wing of its mother as it slipped into place on the starboard side of Serenity.
It had been a while.
"That you keeping me steady, Zoe?" Inara's voice was edged with brightness put there like lip-stick, but she was sure the pilot would understand. Hell, with Serenity pitched up here on a moon that even Mother Buddha would have overlooked, the arrival of her shuttle must be something of a pleasant distraction at least.

Inara was taken aback when she heard an unfamiliar voice and a male one.
"You must be the Ambassador we've been expecting."

She sucked in a breath.
"That's not a title I chose for myself," in fact it's old - can we just not go there please, "but yes - this is Inara."
"Welcome back to Serenity."
Inara had done the math. "You must be Shepherd Face," she said neutrally.
"That would be me, uh-huh. Call me Solomon, everybody else doesn't."

"That's a nice name. Are you very wise Solomon?"
A momentary pause.
"Well, I'm here anyway."
"And that makes two of us. I've been looking forward to meeting you," she lied smoothy. It wasn't malicious, just... damn if Book's death didn't still...
But she closed that off. That was for her to think on privately. She began to gather up her loose things from the dash of the shuttle, luggage could wait.

In case you change your mind Inara?

She closed that off too, only in a less becoming manner.
"Wish I could say I've heard all about you," the Shepherd continued as she moved to the door, "but fact, what I know? Just that no/one will talk about you."

Oh? Fine. Just fine.

The Shepherd must have realised his lack of tact because she heard his tongue click even over the wire and he said somewhat hurriedly,
"No, I mean, the not talking is a BIG not talking. Like, they don't mention you - you aint gone. Am I making ANY sense? 'Case you don't know - I spar some with Zoe and River, my lack of social skills can maybe be put down to the seven bells or more they've hammered out of me."
Inara had to smile a little at that. Good for them.
But talking of..."And where is everyone exactly?" she asked the aether.

"You know," echoed the voice from the cockpit, the man who wasn't Book or Wash, "it's strange, everyone's planet side. The Captain - he said he had business, Zoe too. Kaylee wanted to stretch her legs, Jayne said he had to go help the Captain and why is it that I'm only starting to get this now..."
"They can be very... winning." Inara said to the air. "You think they were avoiding me?"
"No, I think they were NOT avoiding something else."
Inara sighed. So, after everything and she was going to have to go trailing in his wake - or wait on him. Some choice.
She made up her mind and quick. Going would be kinder to her nails. And Mal had a way of spotting things like that - a chipped nail, he'd be on her like a -
And again with the cutting off.
"Ok, Shepherd," she said. Too forcefully? Maybe. L'il bit. "Would you open a door for a Lady?"
She turned outside of the shuttle now, and walked the familiar winding way down to the bay doors.
"Pleasure ma'am," said the Shepherd, and with a wrenching sound the doors came up. Inara could see almost directly ahead, a small dwelling, not much more than a hut, and she could hear the inebriated sounds of an off-kilter violin and a chorus of ragged voices.
So that was his business? Getting drunk?
Meh. Not again, surely something must have changed by now.
Clamping her fists together tight and keeping her face and figure poised, Inara Serra went to go give Captain Malcolm Reynolds a piece of her mind.
As the door on Serenity lowered back into place Shepherd Face was wondering if he should have wished her a happy Unification Day.

..................................................................

"Well, well," said the man - and didn't they always? "Malcolm Reynolds... I guess some things never change."
The two men regarded each other for a dangerous moment. The grizzled figure of former Independent Lt Gen Hammond and his one time comrade in arms Malcolm Reynolds. Serenity's captain gave a half smile. It stayed that way, looking a mite sickly as the muzzle of a nasty looking pistol moved up and on towards his eyes.
"Except sometimes they do," Mal said, using the whole of his mouth this time. Hammond had gone over to the Alliance not long before the end of the war, but that wasn't the issue, not wholly anyways.
"You know," Reynolds continued with a deliberate carefree tone, "time was, come Unification Day, folk could have a clean ruckus without the need of firearms."
"It's a whole new verse Reynolds - you should know, you made it."
Mal gave a disparaging sigh. "I keep not noticing. I'm simple," with a deft flick of the wrist he snatched the pistol from the man's hand and reversed it, "like that."
And yet fast as he was the other man had whipped a spare piece from behind his back.
At least our guns see eye to eye, thought Mal. "Remind me here, dance like this, who leads, who follows and should I curtsy?"

If there was an answer to that it never came. "Excuse me ladies," an interloper growled drunkenly, "but I - ah, hell with that!"
And so saying, Jayne Cobb sent Mal sprawling with a powerful arm even as he butted heads with Hammond.
Mal screwed up his eyes as said from the floor, "Jayne ? What - sides? Sides remember?"
Jayne ignored him. "He still squealing?" he asked the other man instead. "Yup" the other replied, "always was a squealer, Malcolm Reynolds."
He threw out a wild hey-maker. "Not me though."
"Yeah," Cobb moved inside the punch and struck upwards, putting the man down hard on his fanny, "you just can't hit for -"
A bar stool will distract a fella some. Jayne went to the floor as just such a distracting item connected solidly with his head.
"How many times," wheezed Mal, stool in hand, "have you told me this aint your fight?" He was crouching low, waiting for an opening on the other man.
"Hell, Mal, I got bored waiting for -" Another equally distracting item this time wielded by a burly lurker cut him off again. Suddenly everyone was hitting him.
Regaining his balance he flung an elbow out and felt it connect.
"It's on!" yelled the Bar-Keep from somewhere to the side of them, and his words were the signal for a wild whooping brawling rumble to break out gleefully all around.

....................................................

Yes indeed, a bar stool will distract a fella some - and it will do the same to a woman too under the right circumstances, or the wrong circumstances to be truthsome... which is where we started.
A woman walks into a bar.
Introductions follow.
Stool meet Inara, Inara meet stool, that's the one see? Slow motion flying with the greatest of ease and spinning just for the fun of it and landing plum smack and right between her eyes. She was hot suddenly - white sparks were coming out of nowhere, bright static across the screen of her mind and then, quite suddenly, images, memories.
It's true, she thought. Your life flashes in front of your eyes. She should tell someone. She should speak. She should try.
So she tried.
"Urghmplmh..." she said.

..................................................

"Urghmplmh!" Mal had said, his lips momentarily paralysed from the stinging slap.

Inara had pulled her hand back.
"You should be careful," Mal said ruefully as the feeling came back into his face, "that thing's loaded."
This was back on Mr Universe's moon, Independence, Mal had dubbed it though he made precious effort to settle, little effort to change.
Inara let her hand drop. Funny, looking at it now it seemed alien, odd. Did it really, did I really just -
"What is that anyway - they have slapping school now at the whore academy?"

No, no change - there.
It had been Simon, Simon that nested now in the lunar heart, calling in favours from 'the underground' to get Serenity prepped and the moons TV screens flickering again. He wanted to do good.
Mal? Mal wanted to... be Mal. He was looking for shadows while she, while Inara, wanted...
"What?"
"I don't know Mal! Something... Sunlight."
After all they had gone through she'd found herself hoping that for once Mal might want the same. But no... not yet. Not ever - maybe.
And the arguments were no less bitter for being familiar - a ritual almost, dancing the same old same old.
"These things EAT at you Mal," she'd said.

But he hadn't been moved. "It's a hard stretch of nothing we got as our own still 'Nara, you don't need tellin'. You want to rely on folk? Well good and shiny is your kindly heart but don't expect others to make the same gorram mistake -'specially not those that have made it before. I keep one person and the one person who aint let me down yet. And that person is me."
And his face had been nothing but hard edges.
"Then you'll cut yourself off Mal - eventually, finally - alone - somewhere in the black. You really want that?"
But Mal had an answer - he always had an answer; "Fought for it often enough - Independence remember? Some people call that Freedom."
"And other people call it fear." Inara snapped, leaning forward, chin up.
Mal just folded his arms. "Well send for a Shepherd - that was quite a sermon there missy. Only spike being I recall you feel the same damn way. Huh?" He looked smug. "Truths cuts deep as they do say."
"Run-tse duh fwo-tzoo!" The man was impossible!
And in that moment she had made up her mind to leave again, to grab her shuttle and go back to the Training House, back to Sheydra.
.....................................................

Deep. She was going deep. Into herself her memory. Like being under water. Swimming - it was hard, she felt heavy, her limbs, somewhere in the darkness. How did I get in the water? - she wondered vaguely, she feel herself going down, deep and she was cold. Very cold....

....................................................

...and listening to Mal's dreadful message over the Serenity inter-com, she had shivered.

She'd never felt cold in her room before, not here - in all of Serenity her one private place. Here where she would sleep curled into herself and breathing in her own heat, wrapped in the bed clothes as in the kind arms of a friend. Here where she would wash; cleaning and erasing all the grime of this life on Serenity - and all that went with it, the stress, the insults, the.. love.

but River was not the only child waiting to be pulled from a box, all of them were really, here on Serenity just... a box, yes. She was holding a box now, the speckled marble of its cover was cleaned and neat but the black tin bottom was scuffed.
"Oh it's old Inny, real old."
"Inny's a belly button"
"But it's still old," her brother had said.
"And expensive mei-mei, only the best for you and your schooling. Something to remind you of me while we're apart." And the bland look on his face under that wild dark tangle of hair. She knew he was lying.
"Meh, you made it yourself!" Inara stuck her lip out petulantly.
"LANGUAGE!" a mother's love-filled scolding.
"Just take it Inny, please?" a brother's love-filled giving.
Sometimes she wanted to scratch those few memories, scratch them out completely.

A long nail traces the ragged edging and the delicate designs.

Yes, he made this, for her - her brother, lost to the black. Gone with the rest of her family - snatched from life by shadows, bogeymen, Reavers.
Dead.
That's what she was told, pulled from her class at school to receive the crude message from the black uniformed courier. Shaking in front of him as he gave her the loose bag of things, objects - all that remained.
No more love.
No more family.
Dead.
All dead.

But now as she struggled with her own body, scrunching herself backwards in a tangle of sheets, sleeves and wild eyes, she was waiting for the dead to come on back.
Reavers. Any moment now they would burst into the ship - they would burst her into her shuttle and they would burst into her room.
And maybe - just half crazed and irrationally maybe - the box would be recognised.

And there was what it contained. The syringe, the needle, the drug inside - that should help - it was a neuro-amplifier. "You can cheat at every exam" her brother had joked when they were alone and she finally opened it. "If you're the only one of us fit for learning then you damn well better make the grade girl! Ha ha! This little baby, well it helps you remember stuff."
Remember.
And what could she remember? The soft face of the social worker - the troubled grey eyes. "Really Inara it's for the best. In fact -"
"It's a privilege." And the sharp voice of the Priestess.

And then a blur of places, the stifling court, the waiting in barren rooms, the hard grey transport, being pushed roughly into line along with the other young girls, their manner, their expression, their flesh under scrutiny.
"Welcome to Sihnon. Welcome to your new home."
And even then it hadn't stopped. "You - you - and, you - " A bony finger pointing at random it seemed. "There appears to have been an error of judgement or perhaps a bureaucratic mistake. Please, accept our apologies and step outside. Shola, if you would show these three girls out please?"
And then they were gone, those unlucky one's who failed to satisfy. Inara couldn't even remember their faces now, those girls, tweaked from the line, pulled like an unsightly hair from the perfect skin of the face of the Training House and never seen again. No souvenirs this time, no crumpled letter, no bloody fingerprints, no box.

She was clasping her box now with taut white fingers, her eyes on the door.
Still shivering.

.........................................................

"If I disturb you, switching me off will not damage my function, periods of inactivity are required for energy storage..."

Lenore's eyes, under the heavy lacquer of their eyelashes, had given an approximation of a shy glance.
"That's true for people too, yes?"

"You don't disturb me," Inara lied firmly and looking straight-ahead through the shuttle window and the stars beyond.
"Input recognised," Lenore clicked and hummed.
Meh. Lenore had been in 'safe' mode ever since Mal recognised her as the key to Mr Universe's fiendish security protocols that almost killed them back on his moon. 'Safe' mode meant no creepy replays of Mr Universe's voice or anyone else recorded by the Bot.
It also meant Lenore behaved and sounded more like the machine she was under all the behavourial modification software and the projected fantasies of those about her.

"No, I'm not disturbed," thought Inara, keeping her attention on the shuttle controls, I'm just...
Companions, the Empathy training is all.
So, not disturbed then. She knew she was lying to herself now - and that never worked. Much.

Sighing, Inara checked the guide-feed, set to take her back to the temple and Sheydra. First time in quite a time... First time in fact since she'd fled the place - along with with Mal and away from the clutches of the Operative and the Alliance.
And left behind... what exactly?
She knew there would be smiles and hugs, relief and glad conversation, refreshments, tea.
But it would be a reckoning all the same.

Lenore shifted on the couch. "I am programmed to recognise physical and psychological stress
as manifest in key body postures and to offer suitable treatment."
"I'm sorry, what?"

"I have over six hundred sexual intercourse and stimulation/relaxation programs. Selection is made by -"
Inara's interruption was immediate and noisy.
"Please wait while Chinese language recognition is downloaded," Lenore requested politely.

.............................................................
end of pt 1.

coming up - sundry characters running about. natch!

this fic is for charlie_bz. but thanks to everyone for encouraging me.
i'm sorry if it's go-se but i honestly can't do any better right now. i'll load the rest as soon as i can stay online long enough!!!

Comments

[stoshagownozad.livejournal.com]

Now I can understand what you say about "like the way how things are described" - 'cause I do like the way how you describe feelings :))).
It is always hard to play with characters being so well known - but I think till now everything is good, quite tense... and finally we have some idea about black liquid in Inara's box!
go on, go on please :)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

thanks:))))) your encouragement means a lot to me!

[reginaclarejane.livejournal.com]

I have no idea what the Serenity movie is about is or the firefly series for that matter, but my goodness, this was entertaining! You are such a good writer! The thing I find hard about writing a story or a play is the converstion parts of it, and not only the conversations between characters but the ones each character has inside their head. You were aces with that!
I mean, man, this was good. I liked Inara- she's a woman another woman can really sink her teeth into- oh, and not like a cat-fight or anything, but she's strong and witty and troubled- that's so cool. Every woman can understand that...
Anyway, I am glad this got uploaded and I am looking forward to the next part- I think...;)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

those comments on Inara - thanks! i mean it - that's how Inara IS on the TV so to have caught a little of that, phew! Big relief - i dread the idea of cardboard people...
cartoon is funny, cardboard is just a stereotype needs putting to bed.
thanks:)

[reginaclarejane.livejournal.com]

ps. your icon is freaking me out...;)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

LOL! i tried loading new pics and only miniman made it!

[reginaclarejane.livejournal.com]

Whew- that's better now!
;)

[agent-rouka.livejournal.com]

I adore your loopy ways. Just swimming along the stream of thought, it all has its own logic, if you allow yourself to be dragged along.

Also: That barstool moment had better not be fatal or I shall have to look at you sternly.

Also: You ar sublimely hilarious, even when you're being sad-ish.

Also: More. Please.

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

god - i'm so relieved that some of the funny came through!:) thanks!

[gilliebeans.livejournal.com]

I liked this a lot! The fight was so spare, tense, hilarious, and the Inara backstory images were really creative. Plus, imagine if you can, Mal being difficult! I'm curious to see where this goes, well done :)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

you are the nicest! thanks!:)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

ps - you'll see what i meant about M/I a little later in the story...

[charlie-bz.livejournal.com]

Well, I'm so glad to see you back in Firefly fic mode. What a great start. I can't wait to see what happens. you've dangled many mysteries before us - don't keep us waiting too long. Please?

I know I've told you this before but it bears repeating. I really enjoy your style. Distinct and fun. I feel sucked into the story quickly which is very good for this jaded fic reader.

You know I'm visualizing you listening to Garbage, Bowie and Serenity all at the same time. :)

Appreciate that!:)

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

thanks - i'm just glad you aint disappointed!:))))

if i can i'll post the rest up swift. there are tunnels - i dunno why, my fics - always the tunnels!

[recycledfaery.livejournal.com]

oeee me likes this.
*flitters off to read part two*

[wytchcroft.livejournal.com]

hey:) thanks! i keep losing net connection but just made it back! so this was nice to come back to:)))