simon_doctor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
simon_doctor) wrote2005-02-25 01:12 am
simon_doctor) wrote2005-02-25 01:12 am
Aftermath: Some Explaining To Do
Most of the time, coming and going from Milliways through the bridge door had its advantages. Even if hardly any time ever passed for Wash, it wasn't like anybody was going to pester the pilot if he accidentally ended up spending inordinate amounts of time on the bridge.
Of course, entering alone and returning with two extra people tended to raise a few eyebrows.
Especially if the latter happened in one of only two places on the entire gorram ship with a clear view of the kitchen.
Jayne jumped. "Dàxiàng bàozhàxìng de la-dùzi! Where the hell'd they come from?"
Kaylee gasped and beamed, her whole face shining. Book's eyebrows went up, as he pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against; he looked torn between slumping in relief and echoing Jayne's question. Zoe started, and sent Wash a look of pointed question; he offered her a weak smile.
"Thank goodness," said Inara, with a smile of relief.
Kaylee's grin dimmed a little as her brow furrowed in confusion. "Where'd -- You're back! But, um..."
Mal stood up. "All right, folks, let's not be pestering them with questions and all, it's been a rough couple days. Leastways it has been for us, and I'm bettin' it has been for them too."
"But --" Kaylee protested.
"No," said Mal firmly. "This ain't open to discussion. You all can make yourselves useful by givin' our dangerous fugitives their things back. Zoe, Jayne, Shepherd, Kaylee -- fetch 'em out from wherever you stowed 'em. And then I think we could all do with some shut-eye." He held up a hand to forestall any further complaints. "We can hear all about it in the morning."
Grumbling slightly, the crew began to disperse. At the door, Inara turned back to cast a questioning glance at Wash; he waved her on. No sense in them both having to face Mal.
Simon was halfway through the door to crew quarters when Mal's voice, deceptively mild, stopped him. "Word with you, doctor?"
He turned. Mal was leaning against the table, arms folded, one boot cocked in front of the other, the very picture of a man Not Going Anywhere Until He Gets An Explanation.
Simon glanced about the nearly empty room. "...What happened to not pestering us with questions?"
"Oh, I don't aim to pester," Mal told him. "That's on account of you're going to save me the trouble and give me the answers."
Wash's gaze slid from the doctor to Mal and back again. Quietly, he started edging for the kitchen door. He hadn't gotten more than three steps before Mal shot him a look. It was amazing, really, how an entire sentence -- like, for example, remember my asking you for that damn good explanation? and you saying you'd give it to me? -- could be conveyed in a two-second glare.
"Right," he said with false brightness. "So I'll just leave later, then."
"Best you do." Pointedly, Mal pulled out a chair and seated himself on one side of the table. After exchanging uneasy glances, Wash and Simon sat on the opposite side.
River boosted herself up to perch on the counter, swinging her heels unconcernedly.
"Well." Simon studied his fingertips. "This, ah, this is ... going to be a little hard to explain. Hard to believe."
Mal made a go-on gesture with one hand. "And?"
"And..." Simon threw a look at Wash. Help me out here?
Wash managed to keep the panic out of his eyes. "Um." He glanced at the flowers stenciled around the edges of the kitchen, half-hoping they would spring to life and provide him with a convenient distraction. When they failed to oblige, he ventured, "Okay. There's...." Remembering Ace's explanation, "You know all those science-fiction stories about portals?"
Mal's brow furrowed, but he nodded.
"And the multiverse theory?"
Another nod.
"Yeah. It's...not so much with the 'fiction' or the 'theory' bits."
Still another nod, blank and patient and uncomprehending.
Simon took up the thread of the explanation. "Uh, what Wash is trying to say is, ah ... is that ..."
River blew out a breath, and pushed back her hair. "Went to the bar at the end of the 'verse," she told the far wall matter-of-factly. "Through the door. Simon didn't eat his sundae."
Mal looked at her, his eyebrows going up.
Wash closed his eyes in quiet mortification at Mal's expression. "Yeah. What she said. I know it sounds crazy -- "
"Bar at the end of the 'verse? Place with the exploding-stars floor show? That's where you went? Huh." He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "Never did much care for the company there, but yeah. Makes sense. Okay." He stood up. "Glad it worked. Good thinking, Wash. Wăn ān." And with a nod, he turned and went thumping down the corridor to the bunks.
Nobody spoke.
Very, very slowly, Wash blinked; his eyebrows had disappeared somewhere into his hair. "At least that was easy?" he offered weakly.
Simon hadn't moved, or taken his eyes off the spot where Mal had vanished.
River slid off the counter. "Told you," she said to the back of Simon's head, and wandered out the door.
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Simon said indignantly "You did not," and got up to follow her out.
Of course, entering alone and returning with two extra people tended to raise a few eyebrows.
Especially if the latter happened in one of only two places on the entire gorram ship with a clear view of the kitchen.
Jayne jumped. "Dàxiàng bàozhàxìng de la-dùzi! Where the hell'd they come from?"
Kaylee gasped and beamed, her whole face shining. Book's eyebrows went up, as he pushed himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against; he looked torn between slumping in relief and echoing Jayne's question. Zoe started, and sent Wash a look of pointed question; he offered her a weak smile.
"Thank goodness," said Inara, with a smile of relief.
Kaylee's grin dimmed a little as her brow furrowed in confusion. "Where'd -- You're back! But, um..."
Mal stood up. "All right, folks, let's not be pestering them with questions and all, it's been a rough couple days. Leastways it has been for us, and I'm bettin' it has been for them too."
"But --" Kaylee protested.
"No," said Mal firmly. "This ain't open to discussion. You all can make yourselves useful by givin' our dangerous fugitives their things back. Zoe, Jayne, Shepherd, Kaylee -- fetch 'em out from wherever you stowed 'em. And then I think we could all do with some shut-eye." He held up a hand to forestall any further complaints. "We can hear all about it in the morning."
Grumbling slightly, the crew began to disperse. At the door, Inara turned back to cast a questioning glance at Wash; he waved her on. No sense in them both having to face Mal.
Simon was halfway through the door to crew quarters when Mal's voice, deceptively mild, stopped him. "Word with you, doctor?"
He turned. Mal was leaning against the table, arms folded, one boot cocked in front of the other, the very picture of a man Not Going Anywhere Until He Gets An Explanation.
Simon glanced about the nearly empty room. "...What happened to not pestering us with questions?"
"Oh, I don't aim to pester," Mal told him. "That's on account of you're going to save me the trouble and give me the answers."
Wash's gaze slid from the doctor to Mal and back again. Quietly, he started edging for the kitchen door. He hadn't gotten more than three steps before Mal shot him a look. It was amazing, really, how an entire sentence -- like, for example, remember my asking you for that damn good explanation? and you saying you'd give it to me? -- could be conveyed in a two-second glare.
"Right," he said with false brightness. "So I'll just leave later, then."
"Best you do." Pointedly, Mal pulled out a chair and seated himself on one side of the table. After exchanging uneasy glances, Wash and Simon sat on the opposite side.
River boosted herself up to perch on the counter, swinging her heels unconcernedly.
"Well." Simon studied his fingertips. "This, ah, this is ... going to be a little hard to explain. Hard to believe."
Mal made a go-on gesture with one hand. "And?"
"And..." Simon threw a look at Wash. Help me out here?
Wash managed to keep the panic out of his eyes. "Um." He glanced at the flowers stenciled around the edges of the kitchen, half-hoping they would spring to life and provide him with a convenient distraction. When they failed to oblige, he ventured, "Okay. There's...." Remembering Ace's explanation, "You know all those science-fiction stories about portals?"
Mal's brow furrowed, but he nodded.
"And the multiverse theory?"
Another nod.
"Yeah. It's...not so much with the 'fiction' or the 'theory' bits."
Still another nod, blank and patient and uncomprehending.
Simon took up the thread of the explanation. "Uh, what Wash is trying to say is, ah ... is that ..."
River blew out a breath, and pushed back her hair. "Went to the bar at the end of the 'verse," she told the far wall matter-of-factly. "Through the door. Simon didn't eat his sundae."
Mal looked at her, his eyebrows going up.
Wash closed his eyes in quiet mortification at Mal's expression. "Yeah. What she said. I know it sounds crazy -- "
"Bar at the end of the 'verse? Place with the exploding-stars floor show? That's where you went? Huh." He rubbed at his chin thoughtfully. "Never did much care for the company there, but yeah. Makes sense. Okay." He stood up. "Glad it worked. Good thinking, Wash. Wăn ān." And with a nod, he turned and went thumping down the corridor to the bunks.
Nobody spoke.
Very, very slowly, Wash blinked; his eyebrows had disappeared somewhere into his hair. "At least that was easy?" he offered weakly.
Simon hadn't moved, or taken his eyes off the spot where Mal had vanished.
River slid off the counter. "Told you," she said to the back of Simon's head, and wandered out the door.
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Simon said indignantly "You did not," and got up to follow her out.