(no subject)

[river_meimei]

Wash is gone. Pretty much every member of the crew has chipped in to help with flying at some point; skill levels vary, of course, but it's not complicated to fly in a straight line through the black, or babysit the autopilot. Every night, Zoe silently takes Naomi and leaves for Milliways, to sleep there instead of in their bunk.

All the same, there's work needs doing. Or, maybe, everyone's got extra reasons to seek out work right now. Keep the hands busy and (maybe) the mind quiet.

Either way, it's been a while since River's guns were last cleaned. Which is why she and Mal are sitting at the kitchen table with rags and brushes and oil, guns in various states of disassembly spread before them both.

Comments

[e_delmar]

Ennis watches Mal go, and then it's a silence that ain't so comfortable as it once would've been, punctuated by coughs, and itchy hands that ain't got their lighter or their cigarettes to play with.


"Din' know 'bout all that."

Is what he finally says.

[river_meimei]

River glances at him.

The gun that was Joe's is cleaned and reassembled. River could start on the other, but instead she only turns a cloth over and over in her fingers, leaving faint smears of oil on the tan fabric.

[e_delmar]

Ennis reaches over for the other gun, the one left on the table, with the fancy scrollwork. Nicer'n any gun he's ever shot. His eyes are up at River's, though, asking as he does.

[river_meimei]

River tenses subtly.

She glances at his face, and back down at the gun in his hands, and her mouth opens a little but it closes again in silence. She doesn't say no.

But she keeps her eyes on his hands.

[e_delmar]

His hands move slow-

not slowly. but slower'n they'd ever have for him before. New gun, stiff, sore fingers. But it's cleaned and it's put together soon enough, and he places it back in front of her quietly, just the heavey snick of metal on a solid surface.

[river_meimei]

River's eyes follow the gun even after it's out of his hands. She spends a long moment looking down at it, at the lethal oiled gleam of barrel and chamber.

Then she turns her head, and gives Ennis a faint smile.

[e_delmar]

"Ain't used one like that in...."

He furrows his brow, tryin' to think on how long it must've been at this point.

"Not since I was a far sight younger'n you."

[river_meimei]

"Old," River says softly.

[e_delmar]

Ennis raises a single eyebrow, questioning.

[river_meimei]

River is good at answering direct questions sometimes.

Not right now, though.

"Used 'em," she says instead, and looks down again at the gun, at her fingers wandering in slow circles on the gleaming stock.

[e_delmar]

"When?"

[river_meimei]

River glances at him. Glances at the table.

Her face is sober and hard to read.

"You were younger."

[e_delmar]

OH.


His foggy eyes clear, just a little, and he nods, reaching a hand out again, but not picking it up.


"Learned, on a piece like this. Got sold."

With all the other stuff, when everything had to go. Mostly been rifles and semi-automatics since then, but if he closes his eyes, he can still remember the sound of the bullets against tin cans back on a fence post, the way KE pushed him aside, called him a cheater.

[river_meimei]

"I'm sorry."

[e_delmar]

Ennis shrugs, and swallows. Out comes the handkerchief, and he coughs into it a little.

"Weren't nothing worth holding on to anyway."

[river_meimei]

River's shoulders hunch slightly, just for a moment.

She nods.

[e_delmar]

Ennis' foot makes contact with a table leg, just quick-like, and he looks apologetic when things get shaken up a bit.

[river_meimei]

River's hands have dropped an inch to spread abortively across the guns, without quite touching. She blinks at them, now, and then glances up.

[e_delmar]

Her own words, back at her.



"I'm sorry."

[river_meimei]

River smiles at him, small but real.

"Just jumped," she says.

"Call it exercise."

[e_delmar]

That gets a small smile, if an embarrassed one, and he leans forward on the table.






"Can't think I'd even be able t'shoot one of them now."


It's whispered, soft, with a sharp lace of anger.

[river_meimei]

River's eyes on him are, for just a moment, clear and sober and considering.

"Could if you had to." Just as soft, and matter of fact.

[e_delmar]

He looks up at her, head tilted to the side, she's right, but he's unsure.



Maybe she can be sure for him.



And then he looks like he wants to say something, ask something, but he doesn't, and instead he gives a labored chuckle and smiles, shaking his head at a memory.

[river_meimei]

That moment of intent clarity is gone, but she pulls a leg up against her chest and keeps watching him anyway.

[e_delmar]

The smile on Ennis' face turns old, melancholy, and he closes his eyes like it'll help him remember better.




"Jack can't shoot for shit, never could. Nearly got us killed up on that mountain."


And maybe it's a little bit of an exaggeration, but isn't that half the fun in story telling?