Fic: No Power in the 'Verse, Part 15/18 (Firefly, River/Mal, PG-13)
Title: No Power in the 'Verse: XV. Didn't Mean Anything
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1200
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title and cut text from Conversation 16 by The National
XV. Didn't Mean Anything
As they leave the dance floor, Mal steering them away from Barrett, he asks, “You did manage to get the intel we need off our man, when you weren't too busy gazin' into his eyes, I take it?”
River resists the urge to roll her own eyes, putting the mask firmly back in place and only allowing herself a bit of a sigh. “Yes. Upstairs, East wing, third door on the left, small safe in the back of the closet.”
“Shiny.” Though he's speaking to her, Mal's eyes are elsewhere, searching and noting and planning, just for contingency's sake. “Got any ideas as to how we can get up there without attracting all manner of unwelcome attention?”
River pauses, seeks out a plausible target, flips through thoughts until she has enough to create plans of her own. “This way,” she says, sliding through the crowd and out onto a balcony. From there, it's a simple matter of several darkened rooms, two doorways, three turns, and one back staircase to reach their destination. It's an easy game, threading her way through this maze free of any pursuit; she enjoys it, enjoys having a purpose in guiding Mal.
It is not until they reach the closet in Alexander Barrett's bedroom that they run into difficulty. The code-lock on the door River had expected, having pulled its code from Barrett's mind as his fingers crept across her flesh. The old fashioned key lock below it, however, is an unwelcome sight.
“Don't suppose lockpicking is among your hidden talents?” Mal asks without much hope, kneeling down to peer at the offending keyhole.
River is about to admit that it is not, but that the lock could likely teach her, when a more pressing problem pushes gently into her head, growing larger with every step.
She has just enough time to put a finger to Mal's lips for silence and slip out of the closet, turning off its light behind her, before Alexander appears in the room.
Her instinct is to fight, to take him down swiftly and be done with it. But he has left the door open, and there is now a couple in the hall behind - involved in their own passions, but not enough, she thinks, to miss that kind of spectacle. And her clothing, long tangling skirts and unfamiliar shoes, inhibits her preferred tactics, makes her unsure of her footing. It is best, perhaps, to leave combat in Mal's hands.
Behind the mask, she smiles. If not the weapon, then she must be the woman. She draws up all she can of Inara, the security of pretending, and allows herself to drop away.
Alexander is already approaching her, one eyebrow raised, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Madame...Armin, isn't it? Are you lost, my dear? I very much doubt your husband would approve of you finding yourself in a strange man's bedroom.”
River's mind is darting, humming through the room from man to man, the conflicting storms of hot and dark emotions pressing down on her so she can hardly think. Still, she gathers her mask with a breath, faces him boldly.
“Not lost at all, sir,” she says, gliding closer. “As for my husband, you don't need to worry about him. He's a fool. Just uses me for show, doesn't honestly care for me. It's no effort to outwit him.”
Alexander laughs quietly, deep in his throat, a sound that makes River want to shudder, to turn and run. “A fool indeed, to not value his prize. Perhaps,” he says, closing the door behind him, “you might allow me to find worth where he does not?”
“I've heard tales of the way you fulfill a woman's needs,” she says, placing her hands on his shoulders, framing truth as precisely what he wants to hear. “That's why I came up here, to get exactly what I'm looking for.” As she speaks, sliding her arms over Alexander's shoulders, drawing him closer, she manages to turn them until his back is to the closet, beckons with a hand now behind his head for Mal.
“And how, little minx, did you know which room was mine, I wonder?” Alexander asks, pressing her against the door, fingering a bit of hair that has come loose around her face. He seems uninterested in information other than the taste of her neck, though, as he lowers his lips to her skin, tracing his fingers over her collarbone.
River hopes dearly that her gasp will be mistaken by him for one of lust, and gives serious reconsideration to the advisability of attempting to kick a man in the crotch while wearing heeled shoes as his fingers travel to the neckline of her dress.
“Let's see if we can't erase the memory of that lao bao jun and his touch, hmm?” he whispers in her ear, making her tense up with a shudder.
Fortunately, the next sound he makes is a rather inarticulate groan, as Mal hits him in the back of the head with a substantial paperweight. River stands motionless for a moment, as the last of the mask crumbles and the woman beneath shakes off lingering echoes of disgust.
“Real pile of charm, ain't he?” Mal says, searching Alexander's pockets until he comes up with a small gold key. “Sorry to have interrupted your interlude there,” he says coldly, when she still doesn't move, “but we do have us a job needs to be done, best get on with it.”
It is only moments later, after they have dragged Alexander into the closet and liberated not only Lady Shen's jewels, but a good many other shiny trinkets, that River's mind begins gathering pieces again, realizes Alexander was not the only man to mistake her reactions.
“Mal,” she begins, there not being enough glares in the world to express how stupid he's being, even if he would look at her, “it wasn't-”
“Ain't got no time for chatter, River,” he cuts her off, pocketing several bags, handing her the one with Lady Shen's necklace and turning away as she pulls up her skirt to strap it to her thigh, where it will lie hidden in the folds of her dress. “Just doin' the job, right?” The smile he gives her is gone in an instant, held no trace of warmth anyhow.
“Mal,” she tries again, but it is too late, he's pulling her out of the room, maneuvering her out ahead of him as they pass back down the stairs.
“Just get us back to where we're supposed to be so's we can get out of here 'fore anyone misses that grabby piece of go se.”
With no choice, River leads the way, hoarding her scraps of hurt and bitterness through the darkened rooms, out into the bright ballroom. Lets them smolder into an anger of her own to match Mal's as they slip through the doors unchallenged, making their way back to the shuttle. And waits under a quiet, building fury for the peace of Serenity.
Part 14 - Master Post - Part 16
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~1200
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title and cut text from Conversation 16 by The National
XV. Didn't Mean Anything
As they leave the dance floor, Mal steering them away from Barrett, he asks, “You did manage to get the intel we need off our man, when you weren't too busy gazin' into his eyes, I take it?”
River resists the urge to roll her own eyes, putting the mask firmly back in place and only allowing herself a bit of a sigh. “Yes. Upstairs, East wing, third door on the left, small safe in the back of the closet.”
“Shiny.” Though he's speaking to her, Mal's eyes are elsewhere, searching and noting and planning, just for contingency's sake. “Got any ideas as to how we can get up there without attracting all manner of unwelcome attention?”
River pauses, seeks out a plausible target, flips through thoughts until she has enough to create plans of her own. “This way,” she says, sliding through the crowd and out onto a balcony. From there, it's a simple matter of several darkened rooms, two doorways, three turns, and one back staircase to reach their destination. It's an easy game, threading her way through this maze free of any pursuit; she enjoys it, enjoys having a purpose in guiding Mal.
It is not until they reach the closet in Alexander Barrett's bedroom that they run into difficulty. The code-lock on the door River had expected, having pulled its code from Barrett's mind as his fingers crept across her flesh. The old fashioned key lock below it, however, is an unwelcome sight.
“Don't suppose lockpicking is among your hidden talents?” Mal asks without much hope, kneeling down to peer at the offending keyhole.
River is about to admit that it is not, but that the lock could likely teach her, when a more pressing problem pushes gently into her head, growing larger with every step.
She has just enough time to put a finger to Mal's lips for silence and slip out of the closet, turning off its light behind her, before Alexander appears in the room.
Her instinct is to fight, to take him down swiftly and be done with it. But he has left the door open, and there is now a couple in the hall behind - involved in their own passions, but not enough, she thinks, to miss that kind of spectacle. And her clothing, long tangling skirts and unfamiliar shoes, inhibits her preferred tactics, makes her unsure of her footing. It is best, perhaps, to leave combat in Mal's hands.
Behind the mask, she smiles. If not the weapon, then she must be the woman. She draws up all she can of Inara, the security of pretending, and allows herself to drop away.
Alexander is already approaching her, one eyebrow raised, a lazy smile spreading across his face. “Madame...Armin, isn't it? Are you lost, my dear? I very much doubt your husband would approve of you finding yourself in a strange man's bedroom.”
River's mind is darting, humming through the room from man to man, the conflicting storms of hot and dark emotions pressing down on her so she can hardly think. Still, she gathers her mask with a breath, faces him boldly.
“Not lost at all, sir,” she says, gliding closer. “As for my husband, you don't need to worry about him. He's a fool. Just uses me for show, doesn't honestly care for me. It's no effort to outwit him.”
Alexander laughs quietly, deep in his throat, a sound that makes River want to shudder, to turn and run. “A fool indeed, to not value his prize. Perhaps,” he says, closing the door behind him, “you might allow me to find worth where he does not?”
“I've heard tales of the way you fulfill a woman's needs,” she says, placing her hands on his shoulders, framing truth as precisely what he wants to hear. “That's why I came up here, to get exactly what I'm looking for.” As she speaks, sliding her arms over Alexander's shoulders, drawing him closer, she manages to turn them until his back is to the closet, beckons with a hand now behind his head for Mal.
“And how, little minx, did you know which room was mine, I wonder?” Alexander asks, pressing her against the door, fingering a bit of hair that has come loose around her face. He seems uninterested in information other than the taste of her neck, though, as he lowers his lips to her skin, tracing his fingers over her collarbone.
River hopes dearly that her gasp will be mistaken by him for one of lust, and gives serious reconsideration to the advisability of attempting to kick a man in the crotch while wearing heeled shoes as his fingers travel to the neckline of her dress.
“Let's see if we can't erase the memory of that lao bao jun and his touch, hmm?” he whispers in her ear, making her tense up with a shudder.
Fortunately, the next sound he makes is a rather inarticulate groan, as Mal hits him in the back of the head with a substantial paperweight. River stands motionless for a moment, as the last of the mask crumbles and the woman beneath shakes off lingering echoes of disgust.
“Real pile of charm, ain't he?” Mal says, searching Alexander's pockets until he comes up with a small gold key. “Sorry to have interrupted your interlude there,” he says coldly, when she still doesn't move, “but we do have us a job needs to be done, best get on with it.”
It is only moments later, after they have dragged Alexander into the closet and liberated not only Lady Shen's jewels, but a good many other shiny trinkets, that River's mind begins gathering pieces again, realizes Alexander was not the only man to mistake her reactions.
“Mal,” she begins, there not being enough glares in the world to express how stupid he's being, even if he would look at her, “it wasn't-”
“Ain't got no time for chatter, River,” he cuts her off, pocketing several bags, handing her the one with Lady Shen's necklace and turning away as she pulls up her skirt to strap it to her thigh, where it will lie hidden in the folds of her dress. “Just doin' the job, right?” The smile he gives her is gone in an instant, held no trace of warmth anyhow.
“Mal,” she tries again, but it is too late, he's pulling her out of the room, maneuvering her out ahead of him as they pass back down the stairs.
“Just get us back to where we're supposed to be so's we can get out of here 'fore anyone misses that grabby piece of go se.”
With no choice, River leads the way, hoarding her scraps of hurt and bitterness through the darkened rooms, out into the bright ballroom. Lets them smolder into an anger of her own to match Mal's as they slip through the doors unchallenged, making their way back to the shuttle. And waits under a quiet, building fury for the peace of Serenity.
Part 14 - Master Post - Part 16