Malific

Thursday, August 23, 2007 2:49 AM

MALIFIC: An About Face Interlude:

There was a polite round of applause.
The sophisticated, self-consciously civilised music of classical strings, waltz time and the ambient tinkling of jewelled fingers, cups and plates -china, of course.
Shindig like this, he thought – and they always gotta go with the china. Never a good idea, so damned fragile. Always bound to end up bro-
“Captain Malcolm Reynolds and The Most respectable Inara Serra”. A smooth voice ushered them in.
“Fancy aint it!” Kaylee looked up at him from under a wayward lock of red hair. She took in the room beyond. “So… fine.” She gave a wide grin. Threw her arms around him.
“I love my Captain.” She said.
“Daddy” said River from behind her.
“Well, shiny….” Said Reynolds gently prying himself loose. “Although – ‘Daddy’? I thought I told you before not to – and where’s Inara’s got to?”
Kaylee grinned again. “Oh, she’s over there.” She waved. “Y’know. Dancing. Looking beautiful. Over there. With the other man.”
“What?!”
“One wearing a shirt.” Kaylee giggled.
Mal realised he was clad only in his vest and pants. In his hands he was carrying a big beaker full of strong smelling beer.
River looked at him earnestly. “You think you’re remembering it all wrong. But you’re not.” Her eyes were full of concern.

Ok, so – confusion – but he didn’t have time for this right now. He had to – he was supposed to have come here with Inara for rut’s sake. And she was off – well, we’ll soon see about that. And he plunged forward into the smoothly dancing flow of people.
There!
Inara was swaying gracefully the fingertips of a gloved hand touching those of – yes gorram it – a stranger. Tall, well built. Wearing a decorated suit or fancy uniform. There were medals upon the chest. As Reynolds approached them, Inara turned with a hot look “Honestly!” she said, “I should’ve known you would-”
Mal scowled in reply “I’m just here to look out for -”
The other man cut him off sharply. “Look out for what Malcolm. A whore? Isn’t that just like you – think she belongs to you huh? Like your ship, your crew, your-” he laughed unpleasantly. “Family?”
Mal’s fist began to clench.
The man had not finished. “See though – I don’t believe Family’s built on the same things you do – dirt, crime, sin, whoring and the like. Family’s built on loyalty. Loyalty comes from the recognition of power. And I don’t see any power in you.”
He nodded at Mal’s raised fist.
“Can’t say as I blame you for being angry – truth hurts, as they say. Tho’ I reckon,” -
He struck out suddenly with a lean hard fist, sending Mal sprawling to the ornately polished floor – “that probably hurt a deal more.”
Staggering, Mal rose on unsteady legs. He lurched forward. Heedless of Inara’s waving him away.
The two again came face to face.
They shared the same face.
Mal stared open mouthed.
The other Mal spoke up anew. “Oh you may stare Captain Reynolds. But what are you really seeing here? You think I’m a bad person – think I disrespect your whore? Think you are yourself of worth and without stain? – well… correct me but, here’s a thing, you want this woman? Take her for your own? Well I have eyes myself now.
And I can plainly see – you’re married already.”

HUH?

“It’s true!” Inara’s voice was accusing. She raised a hand, a slim finger pointing to his temple, pointing to his crown. His own fingers reached up to it now – slowly – feeling at first just the hard edges of his skull, then the wiry tangle of his hair and then – petals…in wonder, he realised that there were petals upon his head – bound together like a wreath.
A marriage wreath.
“No – no” he said hurriedly, “you don’t – I’m not – hold on a gorram minute here!” He could smell the fresh flower fragrance, it conjured up warm nights, a contented belly full of mead and a pretty lass, smiling before him – handing him the flowers, handing him the wreath.
“It was never real,” he began staring at the faces floating before him. His vision was blurry. Wiped his eyes. “I never”- there was blood on his finger tips. Musta pricked himself, he though

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