91-Rusting SunnyD_lite "A New Balance" Firefly G

[sunnyd-lite.livejournal.com]

Title: A New Balance
Author: SunnyD_lite
Rating: G
Word Count: 650 – a drabble series
Fandom: Firefly – Post Movie
Prompt: 91 – Rusting
A/N: Thanks to spiralleds. She knows why.


An unholy screech woke him, sending him scrambling to the corridor. It had abated, but the ship, she still rang with it. Mal headed towards the engine room, pulling his clothes straight. Why did nothing happen when he was awake; watches being something this crew had never embraced. "What in tarnation is that noise? Has Wash found a mouse?" As that phrase slipped his lips he remembered. Wash wasn't screaming at anything. Not anymore.

Kaylee, faced streaked with grease, was luckily too distracted by whatever had caused the noise to have heard his ill-timed remark.

"Captain, it's Serenity. She's rusting!"

# #

"Captain, it's Serenity. She's rusting!"

How hadn't she noticed? They'd just had that overhaul leaving Mr. Universe's planet. Things were as bad as bad could get then. T'was better now. Even if she kept stumbling with thoughts of visiting Haven, or reaching to call Wash. Family was supposed to get bigger, not smaller.

But good things, too. Simon. Was that why she'd missed this? Too much of her time - her mind - on him? That couldn't be wrong.

Still she wouldn't let Serenity pay for her neglect. She'd scour every part. Making her as shiny as she could be.

# #

It might have been the swill Kaylee had mislabeled alcohol, but right now his world was shiny. The Captain said they were safe, for a bit. River's nightmares had stopped. She said she was sleeping through the night.

Normally he'd be able to verify that, but they hadn't been sharing quarters. Serenity let her explore the more practical side of her theoretical knowledge. She was happy.

And so was he. He'd had one goal for so long. Now he felt like he could move freely, as if his rusted limbs were again fully articulated. If only he could tell Kaylee.

# #

Her motions were repetitive, to prevent things rusting. Captain might clean his guns in the mess, but she'd preferred sitting on the catwalk. Better to observe, another habit.

Gun oil wasn't his smell. Their quarters were full of his scent. Everywhere in that space was comfort. Pain.

He'd died after pulling off a miracle. He could always pull off a miracle. He'd made her laugh, hadn't he?

Her hands danced the steps she'd learnt so long ago. Take care of your weapons and they'll take care of you. Her husband hadn't been a weapon. Is that why she'd lost him?

# #

She was cleaning her guns. Again. Not that he didn't respect that. Rusting was the enemy. His Vera always acted better after some attention. But was like she didn't even notice the metal under her hands and that was wrong.

Was all wrong. People died. Just the way it was. Happened a lot more on other ships. Heck, job before this one they were adding new crew each landfall.

There was something kooky about this ship. Like Mal's, like the crew's, opinions mattering. A crew that felt half empty. Morbid thoughts, these. Maybe it was time to re-count his grenades.

# #

The incense smoke coiled from the joss stick. She sat in lotus position, trying to find her center. Mal might say he goes where the wind blows, but she'd never come across a man more stubborn. And exhale that thought.

Should she stay or go? She'd suppressed the bureaucracy that went with running a House. There were emergencies, but few had required the use of her gun training. Adrenalin addiction was not a normal Companion complaint.

Then why had she felt like she was moldering, rusting away, merely marking time when she was anywhere but here? Breathe in. Breathe out.

# #

Rusting. Oxidation. Reaction with new materials. Change because nothing stays the same. She had changed. And she hadn't changed back, but changed forward. Crew too. They were changing forward. Old bonds broken. New bonds forming. Balance was equal tension in all directions.

They were trying to find the new balance.