FIC: Slippery Slope Week 15 Glissade
Oct. 19th, 2006 10:08 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseTitle: Slippery Slope
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Glissade, defined at the end of the story.
Word Count: 1314
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Mucho thanks to both![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carmen_sandiegofor making sure I wasn't recreation fanon, and to my bestest beta spiralleds for betaing after long shifts, twice!
It had been a simple plan.
Small town on a small moon. A building with lax security. The town, or rather a scattering of buildings, was located on the top of a plateau with both a main road and a disused road down. Simple.
The Doc's plan on Ariel, now that had been a tricky collusion of deception and masquerade. Even with Jayne's greedy stupidity, it was the best job they'd had in a long while. Today's job, on the other hand, was a straight forward smash and grab without the smash. No trains, no not-quite-dead people. No gorram cattle.
And no gorram luck.
Oh, he had the goods: a small wooden box. He'd waltzed out of the building and began a purposeful amble towards the disused road where the mule was waiting. Everything had been fine. He'd even been whistling. Then he passed a barn.
Now he had a passel of trouble on his heels in the form of dogs. Vicious dogs. A pack of baying vicious dogs and they weren't beagles neither, more like first cousins to wolves. Least that's what the quick glimpses over his shoulder showed him. He'd been amazed he'd noticed that much as he took off through the scrub, running anywhere the dogs weren't.
While he was glimpsing he made what some might call a strategic error.
He was of the opinion it was a brilliant split-second decision calculated to disorient his pursuit. Or at least that's what he'd tell the crew, should he ever manage to get down this cliff.
Yes, he'd flung himself off the plateau and now found the ground dropping out from under him. And had he mentioned the snow?
He dug in his heels as he slid through the layers of snow, doing his darnest to weave around the spindly pine trees which clung to the side of the steeps. The fact that his view was obscured by the displaced snow fanning in front of him; well he always did like a challenge. He leaned left to avoid another tree. He'd heard of a sport like this, glisslide, glissade, somesuch. Never had a hankering to try it himself. Life threw enough curves at him that seeking them out just seemed plain foolish. He lifted his left foot and leaned both back and right to avoid impaling himself on another dwarf tree. He really did not see the joy of this activity.
He risked a glance up and behind him noting that he'd been right.
The hounds from hell had sense enough to stay on the top.
A glance down, between snow bursts, showed him that he had some luck; he just wasn't sure what kind. The good news being he was heading towards Serenity. The bad news being it was facing him. An audience, well that was exactly what this caper was missing. Chances being no one was watching the cliff. No reason to, twasn't part of the plan. That was the thin string upon which his ego rested.
It was a hell of a long way down.
************
Inara had drifted to the cockpit where Wash was trying to explain his dinosaurs to River. The girl disagreed with his grouping and pointed out several inconsistencies in timing, habitat and she even objected to the scale of the figures.
Listening to the impromptu lecture in paleontology, Inara tried to ignore the restless feeling that came over her more and more often when Mal was out on a job. A movement on the view screen caught her attention. After taking a steadying breath, she motioned to the others. "I had never actually seen a glissade before. The word sounds so much more graceful than what Mal is attempting." Inara's cool, almost amused tone covered her worry and frustration. That man was determined to kill himself in a spectacular way and the universe kept providing him with opportunities.
She watched River lie nearly prone across the control pad, trying to get closer to the view screen. "Jack fell down and broke his crown." River twisted to look towards Inara, "but Jill refuses to fall after. He's wrong. It's all wrong. Da da da dum. Da da da dum. Didn't start from the fifth. Must start from the fifth then slide then lift. Cross the stage, demi-plie." Emulating her words, the young girl danced out of the cockpit.
"Pretty -- and creepy, did I mention creepy? What was that about falling? And the fifth?" Wash shook his head. "Do you think I should have the doc on alert?" He spun his chair back to the view screen where they watched Mal continue his descent.
The radio crackled as Zoe checked in from the mule. "Wash, any word on the Captain? He's missed the rendezvous point."
"Bring the mule back, honey. Mal decided the direct route would be more expeditious."
Turning to Inara, Wash continued, "Did you win anything? I know Kaylee has a fiver on the plan going smoothly."
He'd left the link on and Zoe replied, "Don't seem right, Preacher letting her make such a bet."
Inara smiled. "I believe he counts her perpetual optimism as a blessing upon us. And he did persuade her to place a smaller wager."
There was a snort as Zoe weighed in her opinion, "Not a word against our Shepherd, but given the odds against a smooth run, I suspect he wanted to make it low enough that he be sure he could cover. They say miracles do still happen."
"They do at that; it looks like he's made it to the bottom. At this point I'm hesitant to say safely."
"Roger that, I've got you in my sight. I'll be docking in a moment. Zoe out."
The radio squawked again, "Wash, you there?"
"Yes, Captain, my Captain, Zoe is bringing the Mule in and--"
"Get her ready for lift off. We're done with this moon."
"Warming her up for take off." Wash began flipping switches and pushing buttons with a steely focus.
It didn't take her by surprise when Wash shrugged off his easy-going clown attitude and slipped into the pilot role. After all this time, she knew this crew. She'd even been able to follow River's reference to the famous symphony and ballet steps. And while Jack was clearly Mal, and River's glare meant that she was Jill, the meaning of the comment eluded her. She knew this group of people better than any one she'd met since her time at the Companion training house. Remembering Nadia's situation, that admission scared her.
It had been a simple plan. She had needed time to think. She would travel outside of the usual circles, making contacts on both the outer planets and moons. She would take some time to bring into perspective what she'd discovered at the Mother House. She'd needed space, autonomy, hegemony if only over herself. She'd rented a shuttle to avoid attachments, they'd found her anyway.
It would have worked, but she'd fallen in with this crew. A deceptively simple slippery slope from acknowledgment, to familiarity, to friendship and then knowledge. Looking back, her slide down seemed as fast and beyond her control as Mal's recent antics had been. She should have noticed it when she first laid money with Book, the bet was always the same: that the job would get done, but not according to Mal's plan. Not that those were long odds, but it bothered her that she always won, that she had such faith that he'd both mess up and persevere.
Somewhere in their travels, she lost her goal, her mission. Her purpose had become subsumed to emotion, a force no Companion should let influence her. She'd begun thinking of the crew's good before her own. She couldn't lose that control. She'd been escaping from her real task. It was time to return to the Guild.
She'd been falling long enough.
***************
A/N: The Prompt was :Glissade which they were kind enough to define as follows.
French, noun, slide, glissade, from glisser to slide 1 : to perform a ballet glissade 2 : to slide in a standing or squatting position down a snow-covered slope without the aid of skis
noun 1. a skillful glide over snow or ice in descending a mountain, as on skis or a toboggan. 2. Dance. a sliding or gliding step. –verb (used without object) 3. to perform a glissade.
From American Ballet Theater:
Glide. A traveling step executed by gliding the working foot from the fifth position in the required direction, the other foot closing to it. Glissade is a terre à terre step and is used to link other steps. After a demi-plié in the fifth position the working foot glides along the floor to a strong point a few inches from the floor. The other foot then pushes away from the floor so that both knees are straight and both feet strongly pointed for a moment; then the weight is shifted to the working foot with a fondu. The other foot, which is pointed a few inches from the floor, slides into the fifth position in demi-plié.
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Glissade, defined at the end of the story.
Word Count: 1314
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Mucho thanks to both
carmen_sandiegofor making sure I wasn't recreation fanon, and to my bestest beta spiralleds for betaing after long shifts, twice!It had been a simple plan.
Small town on a small moon. A building with lax security. The town, or rather a scattering of buildings, was located on the top of a plateau with both a main road and a disused road down. Simple.
The Doc's plan on Ariel, now that had been a tricky collusion of deception and masquerade. Even with Jayne's greedy stupidity, it was the best job they'd had in a long while. Today's job, on the other hand, was a straight forward smash and grab without the smash. No trains, no not-quite-dead people. No gorram cattle.
And no gorram luck.
Oh, he had the goods: a small wooden box. He'd waltzed out of the building and began a purposeful amble towards the disused road where the mule was waiting. Everything had been fine. He'd even been whistling. Then he passed a barn.
Now he had a passel of trouble on his heels in the form of dogs. Vicious dogs. A pack of baying vicious dogs and they weren't beagles neither, more like first cousins to wolves. Least that's what the quick glimpses over his shoulder showed him. He'd been amazed he'd noticed that much as he took off through the scrub, running anywhere the dogs weren't.
While he was glimpsing he made what some might call a strategic error.
He was of the opinion it was a brilliant split-second decision calculated to disorient his pursuit. Or at least that's what he'd tell the crew, should he ever manage to get down this cliff.
Yes, he'd flung himself off the plateau and now found the ground dropping out from under him. And had he mentioned the snow?
He dug in his heels as he slid through the layers of snow, doing his darnest to weave around the spindly pine trees which clung to the side of the steeps. The fact that his view was obscured by the displaced snow fanning in front of him; well he always did like a challenge. He leaned left to avoid another tree. He'd heard of a sport like this, glisslide, glissade, somesuch. Never had a hankering to try it himself. Life threw enough curves at him that seeking them out just seemed plain foolish. He lifted his left foot and leaned both back and right to avoid impaling himself on another dwarf tree. He really did not see the joy of this activity.
He risked a glance up and behind him noting that he'd been right.
The hounds from hell had sense enough to stay on the top.
A glance down, between snow bursts, showed him that he had some luck; he just wasn't sure what kind. The good news being he was heading towards Serenity. The bad news being it was facing him. An audience, well that was exactly what this caper was missing. Chances being no one was watching the cliff. No reason to, twasn't part of the plan. That was the thin string upon which his ego rested.
It was a hell of a long way down.
************
Inara had drifted to the cockpit where Wash was trying to explain his dinosaurs to River. The girl disagreed with his grouping and pointed out several inconsistencies in timing, habitat and she even objected to the scale of the figures.
Listening to the impromptu lecture in paleontology, Inara tried to ignore the restless feeling that came over her more and more often when Mal was out on a job. A movement on the view screen caught her attention. After taking a steadying breath, she motioned to the others. "I had never actually seen a glissade before. The word sounds so much more graceful than what Mal is attempting." Inara's cool, almost amused tone covered her worry and frustration. That man was determined to kill himself in a spectacular way and the universe kept providing him with opportunities.
She watched River lie nearly prone across the control pad, trying to get closer to the view screen. "Jack fell down and broke his crown." River twisted to look towards Inara, "but Jill refuses to fall after. He's wrong. It's all wrong. Da da da dum. Da da da dum. Didn't start from the fifth. Must start from the fifth then slide then lift. Cross the stage, demi-plie." Emulating her words, the young girl danced out of the cockpit.
"Pretty -- and creepy, did I mention creepy? What was that about falling? And the fifth?" Wash shook his head. "Do you think I should have the doc on alert?" He spun his chair back to the view screen where they watched Mal continue his descent.
The radio crackled as Zoe checked in from the mule. "Wash, any word on the Captain? He's missed the rendezvous point."
"Bring the mule back, honey. Mal decided the direct route would be more expeditious."
Turning to Inara, Wash continued, "Did you win anything? I know Kaylee has a fiver on the plan going smoothly."
He'd left the link on and Zoe replied, "Don't seem right, Preacher letting her make such a bet."
Inara smiled. "I believe he counts her perpetual optimism as a blessing upon us. And he did persuade her to place a smaller wager."
There was a snort as Zoe weighed in her opinion, "Not a word against our Shepherd, but given the odds against a smooth run, I suspect he wanted to make it low enough that he be sure he could cover. They say miracles do still happen."
"They do at that; it looks like he's made it to the bottom. At this point I'm hesitant to say safely."
"Roger that, I've got you in my sight. I'll be docking in a moment. Zoe out."
The radio squawked again, "Wash, you there?"
"Yes, Captain, my Captain, Zoe is bringing the Mule in and--"
"Get her ready for lift off. We're done with this moon."
"Warming her up for take off." Wash began flipping switches and pushing buttons with a steely focus.
It didn't take her by surprise when Wash shrugged off his easy-going clown attitude and slipped into the pilot role. After all this time, she knew this crew. She'd even been able to follow River's reference to the famous symphony and ballet steps. And while Jack was clearly Mal, and River's glare meant that she was Jill, the meaning of the comment eluded her. She knew this group of people better than any one she'd met since her time at the Companion training house. Remembering Nadia's situation, that admission scared her.
It had been a simple plan. She had needed time to think. She would travel outside of the usual circles, making contacts on both the outer planets and moons. She would take some time to bring into perspective what she'd discovered at the Mother House. She'd needed space, autonomy, hegemony if only over herself. She'd rented a shuttle to avoid attachments, they'd found her anyway.
It would have worked, but she'd fallen in with this crew. A deceptively simple slippery slope from acknowledgment, to familiarity, to friendship and then knowledge. Looking back, her slide down seemed as fast and beyond her control as Mal's recent antics had been. She should have noticed it when she first laid money with Book, the bet was always the same: that the job would get done, but not according to Mal's plan. Not that those were long odds, but it bothered her that she always won, that she had such faith that he'd both mess up and persevere.
Somewhere in their travels, she lost her goal, her mission. Her purpose had become subsumed to emotion, a force no Companion should let influence her. She'd begun thinking of the crew's good before her own. She couldn't lose that control. She'd been escaping from her real task. It was time to return to the Guild.
She'd been falling long enough.
***************
A/N: The Prompt was :Glissade which they were kind enough to define as follows.
French, noun, slide, glissade, from glisser to slide 1 : to perform a ballet glissade 2 : to slide in a standing or squatting position down a snow-covered slope without the aid of skis
noun 1. a skillful glide over snow or ice in descending a mountain, as on skis or a toboggan. 2. Dance. a sliding or gliding step. –verb (used without object) 3. to perform a glissade.
From American Ballet Theater:
Glide. A traveling step executed by gliding the working foot from the fifth position in the required direction, the other foot closing to it. Glissade is a terre à terre step and is used to link other steps. After a demi-plié in the fifth position the working foot glides along the floor to a strong point a few inches from the floor. The other foot then pushes away from the floor so that both knees are straight and both feet strongly pointed for a moment; then the weight is shifted to the working foot with a fondu. The other foot, which is pointed a few inches from the floor, slides into the fifth position in demi-plié.
