(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

[river_meimei]

River's expression shifts while he talks, as it often does, flickering through half-seen changes of reaction and thought.

But she's smiling a little herself, and that's mostly a constant.

[e_delmar]

"He tried, though."

He sure's hell tried.


Ennis is smiling, too, and it seems maybe like the mountains are a little bit closer, the air's a little bit crisper.

[river_meimei]

"Trees."

This contribution is soft enough that it's clear she's not trying to interrupt the story. (Though what she means by it is not so much clear, maybe.)

[e_delmar]

He don't know what she means by it, but the trees're there, too, he can smell 'em, just about.





"S'it, really."

[river_meimei]

River pulls her other leg up and wraps her fingers around her ankles. Whoever does the laundry this round will be delighted by the oil stains this leaves on her yellow skirt.

"Yes," she says, and smiles at Ennis.

[e_delmar]

So's long as it ain't Ennis, he don't care. It was a long time ago, that, and Ennis remembers it like it was just yesterday, the smile as Jack shoved him and their dinner fell.


Maybe it'll be like that again, some day.

Maybe they missed out on it altogether.

[river_meimei]

There are things that are

(o lost, and shall not come again)

only memory. And all you can do is cling to their ghosts, or try to forget, whichever one hurts less.

And there are things that you can reclaim, and sometimes you don't even know that you can until you have.

"We'll make him cook," River says, and her smile has faded a little but the warmth of it is still in her eyes.

[e_delmar]

"You don't want him to cook."

Ennis looks very serious.

"Worse'n I am, maybe."


Can't cook, can't shoot, what good is he?

Ennis slides down in the seat a little, one hand going to cuff his arm.


"It'll be good."


He says, like they've agreed to something.

[river_meimei]

"Okay," River agrees, just as seriously.

[badinlatin]

Mal comes back suddenly -- even if River probably already knew he was there -- with a smile.

And? A small foil container from which a recognizable smell - again, to River - is emanating.

"You get the plates."

[river_meimei]

River gives him a funny look, though she's standing up even as she does so.

"Pistols," she informs him, "are an unorthodox place setting. Ask 'Nara."

All the same, she does fetch the plates, and two pairs of chopsticks and a fork, and even remembers to wash her hands first. She deposits them on the smaller side table, though, away from the guns.

And there's not much more talk about guns or shooting until it's time to put away the dishes and clean up both tables. (Really, there's not too much more talk in general, despite Mal's efforts, because River is occupied with her dumplings and Ennis is, as ever, occupied with being taciturn.) But it's comfortable, and the bao is tasty even if Ennis only picks at his, and that's all that really matters.