#93: What If The Crew Of Serenity Got Drunk...
Title: Engine Fermentation To The Rescue
Rating: PG
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Summary: The crew of Serenity gets drunk after the events on Mr. Universe’s planet.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. Joss Whedon owns Firefly and the characters. I wish I did, but sadly, no.
Written For: Drunk_Fic Prompt 93
Word Count: 1393
“Engine Fermentation To The Rescue”
Captain Malcolm Reynolds stood and stretched after having spent the last five hours in the pilot seat. The ship was safely ensconced in autopilot mode and River had promised that she was going to look out for it. Mal didn’t know why he trusted the girl, but after the events on Miranda, and the fact that she had saved their asses back on Mr. Universe’s world, endeared her to him. Not that he already didn’t like her. She was mighty cute. But after all she had done for them, Mal was liking her more and more.
“You gonna be okay here, darlin’?” Mal asked River as he turned to leave. He wanted to make sure that she could handle Serenity all on her own.
“The plotting is under control, thrusters are shut down, engine running, life support is online,” River muttered as she clicked some dials feverishly and glanced over the schematics coming up from the Cortex. She sent Mal a ‘I can handle this’ look and quipped, “I’ll be fine, Captain.” She smiled like the carefree little girl that she should be, and went back to clicking dials and swiveling in her chair. Mal smiled, comforted that she was lucid and in (partially) her right mind.
Mal, leaving River to it, wandered down the stairs from the flight deck to the main corridor of the ship where all the crew’s apartments were. No one was at home, that much he knew for sure. So, he wandered down towards the main cargo hold and walked along the upper most level. His crew was sitting around below, on whatever crate they could find, breaking open a keg of Kaylee’s finest engine fermented wine. Mal grinned grimly and wandered down to them, his boots making nice little thuds on the metal walkways.
When he reached the belly of the ship, he wrapped an arm around Kaylee and leaned against her, like a brother would to his beloved sister.
“What kind of mischief are you all getting into?” Mal inquired playfully. Kaylee hugged him with her arm while the other poured more wine into her cup.
“Oh, nothin’, Cap’n,” Kaylee told him. “Nothin’ that we ain’t done before.”
Mal groaned. That was a bad sign. When he crew drank, they really, really drank. They pulled out all the stops and didn’t stop the flow of the wine until they were all good and unconscious. Mal took in the already slurred and sloppy state of them. Zoë, his first mate and the woman who had just lost her husband, was drinking morosely in the corner. She brought the cup to her mouth and downed it quickly, a somber and tired expression on her face. Jayne, his middle man and one of the oddest men Mal had ever had the misfortune to meet, was clapping the good doctor Simon Tam on the back and trying to drink his wine, even as it dribbled down his chin. Simon was the most surprising drunk of all. He was giggly, touchy-feely, and extremely relaxed. It was a pleasant change from his normally uptight and conservative manner. And Kaylee was making her way over to him, her eyes alight with what looked curiously like lust.
Eew.
Mal turned away, not wanting to see Simon and Kaylee interact. He knew that Kaylee had a thing for the doc, but he didn’t want to think about the girl he considered his mei-mei (sister) trying to entice the tight wad doctor. Mal went to find a crate of his own.
“Here ya go, Cap’n,” Kaylee said, handing over a nearly overflowing cup. The purple wine sloshed over the edges at her jerking and drunken movements.
“A mighty thank you, Kaylee,” Mal told her, taking the cup of wine before she spilled anymore over his precious ship’s floor. “How long you all been drinking?” Mal asked his crew. Zoë didn’t answer, just sipped her wine and looked towards the flight deck. Jayne smiled goofily and sipped more. Simon and Kaylee were the only ones that weren’t completely out of their gourds, but they were getting there.
“Just a…a bit,” Simon said, bringing his fingers together closely. He stood and tottered on his feet, the wine darting from the cup like it was escaping and stained his white shirt. “Not much.” Kaylee, seeing the doctor about to fall over, reached up and tried to catch him. Which only caused them both to fall to the ground, laughing. Zoë, seeing the state of the crew and all the jolliness they were engaging in, stood up and tried to make her way up the stairs. She failed a few times, but managed to place her feet in the right spots and slowly made her way up the stairs. She disappeared around the corner and Mal knew that she could get to her room or fall down, drunk and unconscious, trying.
“Well, you know what they say. When in Rome,” Mal muttered. Jayne, with his unusually keen sense of hearing when inebriated, belted out, “We ain’t in Rome, Mal. Not even close.” He laughed and gestured to the wine. “This stuff ain’t bad, Kay…Kay…Kayl…Kaylee.” He got her name right finally, and hiccupped loud and hard.
“It’s an expression, go-se,” Simon told him, pointing a lazy and quivering finger at the giant of a man. “And you don’t get it. Hilari…hic…ous.”
Jayne’s face tightened into an unpleasant expression that was made slightly comical by the dopiness of his drinking habits, and the fact that he had more wine in him that any of them combined. And was still standing.
“You’ve crossed the line, doc,” Jayne growled. Only, instead of the menacing growl that caused numerous space goers to shake in their boots, his manly growl came out as a slurring grunt. He tried to stand, but couldn’t, and was instead sent backwards over the crate that had been his seat. Mal lifted an eyebrow and went to investigate what happened to his crew member. He peered over the crate that still held Jayne’s legs, and looked down to see Jayne snoozing loudly, his hand still wrapped around his cup.
“Great,” Mal murmured. Turning back to the two love birds, he said, “You two aren’t gonna be falling down drunk now, are ya?”
“Naw, Cap’n. We a-okay,” Kaylee said sweetly, her eyes clouded with the drink. And she tumbled against Simon, almost falling down like Jayne if it weren’t for her flailing arms and squeaks of panic. Simon laughed, hard and almost goat like, as he tried to catch her and failed. They both tumbled to the ground and were a mess of limbs and wine puddles. Mal groaned again, unhappy that 1) his crew were making asses out of themselves and 2) that they were doing it without him.
Again, when in Rome. And Mal took a sip.
-:- -:- -:-
The next morning (or what he assumed to be the next morning), Mal awoke to the freezing cold cargo bay floor. Something was very, very wrong. He opened his eyes and tried to stop the world from spinning. He finally could move without wanting to vomit, and looked down.
Where was his pants? Where was the rest of his clothing for that matter?
A groan beside him made Mal freeze and he turned his head slowly to keep from passing out again. He was sure that was what happened. He had passed out. He had passed out, and there was someone next to him. And he was naked. He was passed out, someone was next to him, and he was nude as the day he was born. As many times as he said it, Mal couldn’t make sense of it.
So he turned his head, eager to find out whom he had apparently bedded.
Oh no.
God, please kill me now.
A certain burly, rather simple minded man named Jayne rested next to Mal, in a similar state of nudity.
The horrified screams could be heard throughout the ‘verse.
End
Rating: PG
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Summary: The crew of Serenity gets drunk after the events on Mr. Universe’s planet.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in this story. Joss Whedon owns Firefly and the characters. I wish I did, but sadly, no.
Written For: Drunk_Fic Prompt 93
Word Count: 1393
“Engine Fermentation To The Rescue”
Captain Malcolm Reynolds stood and stretched after having spent the last five hours in the pilot seat. The ship was safely ensconced in autopilot mode and River had promised that she was going to look out for it. Mal didn’t know why he trusted the girl, but after the events on Miranda, and the fact that she had saved their asses back on Mr. Universe’s world, endeared her to him. Not that he already didn’t like her. She was mighty cute. But after all she had done for them, Mal was liking her more and more.
“You gonna be okay here, darlin’?” Mal asked River as he turned to leave. He wanted to make sure that she could handle Serenity all on her own.
“The plotting is under control, thrusters are shut down, engine running, life support is online,” River muttered as she clicked some dials feverishly and glanced over the schematics coming up from the Cortex. She sent Mal a ‘I can handle this’ look and quipped, “I’ll be fine, Captain.” She smiled like the carefree little girl that she should be, and went back to clicking dials and swiveling in her chair. Mal smiled, comforted that she was lucid and in (partially) her right mind.
Mal, leaving River to it, wandered down the stairs from the flight deck to the main corridor of the ship where all the crew’s apartments were. No one was at home, that much he knew for sure. So, he wandered down towards the main cargo hold and walked along the upper most level. His crew was sitting around below, on whatever crate they could find, breaking open a keg of Kaylee’s finest engine fermented wine. Mal grinned grimly and wandered down to them, his boots making nice little thuds on the metal walkways.
When he reached the belly of the ship, he wrapped an arm around Kaylee and leaned against her, like a brother would to his beloved sister.
“What kind of mischief are you all getting into?” Mal inquired playfully. Kaylee hugged him with her arm while the other poured more wine into her cup.
“Oh, nothin’, Cap’n,” Kaylee told him. “Nothin’ that we ain’t done before.”
Mal groaned. That was a bad sign. When he crew drank, they really, really drank. They pulled out all the stops and didn’t stop the flow of the wine until they were all good and unconscious. Mal took in the already slurred and sloppy state of them. Zoë, his first mate and the woman who had just lost her husband, was drinking morosely in the corner. She brought the cup to her mouth and downed it quickly, a somber and tired expression on her face. Jayne, his middle man and one of the oddest men Mal had ever had the misfortune to meet, was clapping the good doctor Simon Tam on the back and trying to drink his wine, even as it dribbled down his chin. Simon was the most surprising drunk of all. He was giggly, touchy-feely, and extremely relaxed. It was a pleasant change from his normally uptight and conservative manner. And Kaylee was making her way over to him, her eyes alight with what looked curiously like lust.
Eew.
Mal turned away, not wanting to see Simon and Kaylee interact. He knew that Kaylee had a thing for the doc, but he didn’t want to think about the girl he considered his mei-mei (sister) trying to entice the tight wad doctor. Mal went to find a crate of his own.
“Here ya go, Cap’n,” Kaylee said, handing over a nearly overflowing cup. The purple wine sloshed over the edges at her jerking and drunken movements.
“A mighty thank you, Kaylee,” Mal told her, taking the cup of wine before she spilled anymore over his precious ship’s floor. “How long you all been drinking?” Mal asked his crew. Zoë didn’t answer, just sipped her wine and looked towards the flight deck. Jayne smiled goofily and sipped more. Simon and Kaylee were the only ones that weren’t completely out of their gourds, but they were getting there.
“Just a…a bit,” Simon said, bringing his fingers together closely. He stood and tottered on his feet, the wine darting from the cup like it was escaping and stained his white shirt. “Not much.” Kaylee, seeing the doctor about to fall over, reached up and tried to catch him. Which only caused them both to fall to the ground, laughing. Zoë, seeing the state of the crew and all the jolliness they were engaging in, stood up and tried to make her way up the stairs. She failed a few times, but managed to place her feet in the right spots and slowly made her way up the stairs. She disappeared around the corner and Mal knew that she could get to her room or fall down, drunk and unconscious, trying.
“Well, you know what they say. When in Rome,” Mal muttered. Jayne, with his unusually keen sense of hearing when inebriated, belted out, “We ain’t in Rome, Mal. Not even close.” He laughed and gestured to the wine. “This stuff ain’t bad, Kay…Kay…Kayl…Kaylee.” He got her name right finally, and hiccupped loud and hard.
“It’s an expression, go-se,” Simon told him, pointing a lazy and quivering finger at the giant of a man. “And you don’t get it. Hilari…hic…ous.”
Jayne’s face tightened into an unpleasant expression that was made slightly comical by the dopiness of his drinking habits, and the fact that he had more wine in him that any of them combined. And was still standing.
“You’ve crossed the line, doc,” Jayne growled. Only, instead of the menacing growl that caused numerous space goers to shake in their boots, his manly growl came out as a slurring grunt. He tried to stand, but couldn’t, and was instead sent backwards over the crate that had been his seat. Mal lifted an eyebrow and went to investigate what happened to his crew member. He peered over the crate that still held Jayne’s legs, and looked down to see Jayne snoozing loudly, his hand still wrapped around his cup.
“Great,” Mal murmured. Turning back to the two love birds, he said, “You two aren’t gonna be falling down drunk now, are ya?”
“Naw, Cap’n. We a-okay,” Kaylee said sweetly, her eyes clouded with the drink. And she tumbled against Simon, almost falling down like Jayne if it weren’t for her flailing arms and squeaks of panic. Simon laughed, hard and almost goat like, as he tried to catch her and failed. They both tumbled to the ground and were a mess of limbs and wine puddles. Mal groaned again, unhappy that 1) his crew were making asses out of themselves and 2) that they were doing it without him.
Again, when in Rome. And Mal took a sip.
-:- -:- -:-
The next morning (or what he assumed to be the next morning), Mal awoke to the freezing cold cargo bay floor. Something was very, very wrong. He opened his eyes and tried to stop the world from spinning. He finally could move without wanting to vomit, and looked down.
Where was his pants? Where was the rest of his clothing for that matter?
A groan beside him made Mal freeze and he turned his head slowly to keep from passing out again. He was sure that was what happened. He had passed out. He had passed out, and there was someone next to him. And he was naked. He was passed out, someone was next to him, and he was nude as the day he was born. As many times as he said it, Mal couldn’t make sense of it.
So he turned his head, eager to find out whom he had apparently bedded.
Oh no.
God, please kill me now.
A certain burly, rather simple minded man named Jayne rested next to Mal, in a similar state of nudity.
The horrified screams could be heard throughout the ‘verse.
End