useofaswhat | 009 ✫ Voice/Spam

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009 ✫ Voice/Spam

[Voice]

Just so y'all know, Nicole an' I'll get the boiler tonight. Do we got a dinner shift going here or are we fending for ourselves?

[Spam for Natasha]

[Sharing a room with Natasha might get a little awkward, but Mal has to admit that in an old-fashioned way it's a pretty nice one. There's a pair of double beds and a window looking out over an actual view, bleak and snowy though it might be. The place ain't exactly homey but for a stopover during a crash it's comfortable; at least there aren't any aliens this time. But funnily enough, whenever he looks outside he swears he sees Tracey's family graveyard on St. Albans.

Must be one of those times where looking out in the snow makes you see things. Mal shrugs his wool overcoat off and pushes the thought from his mind – he's got an inmate to deal with and a great amount to work through. That's far more important.]

Ladies first. Go ahead, pick your bunk.

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When we're on the ship we ain't in the world, so it sounds like you're safe.

Could be I'll come down later. First we gotta turn the heat on.

What? 's just meat like any other animal. [Which is not exactly true – he's met people who happily chowed down on dog and rabbit, but there aren't many people not struck by famine who would willingly dine on rat.]

Not even if you give him puppy eyes?

It's rat. That's gross.

[Gross gross gross.]

I can try, but he's stubborn.

[So basically if she were Zoë and he were Clint everything would be cool.

More'n a couple. Some get nothin' but.

[He tosses his own jacket on the opposite bed and turns abruptly from the window (one dreary snowscape on a backwoods planet looks much like any other, he reminds himself) and turns to her. Tracey and his folks and St. Albans is not what he wants to dwell on right now. Too much work to be done.]

Where do you reckon they keep flashlights in a place like this? If that cellar ain't lit I don't fancy fighting with the furniture.

Tell him the rat story, maybe that'll convince him.

We're not going to have to eat rat, there's plenty of food in the kitchen.

For now there is.

We won't be here long. I've been on the Barge for over a year now, we've never been anywhere that wasn't the Barge for more than a few days.

[Preeeeetty much, she's been sleeping in his room for months anyway. But the Admiral never makes things easy, so.]

Front desk, maybe. Or the closets. [Which is where she heads first, checking the very top shelves and the very back corners. And while she's looking, she could swear she heard a creak behind her, felt someone stepping close - but when she looks over her shoulder, ready to tell Mal that he missed his shot when he didn't hand over her file the first time she asked, there's no one there. A frown crosses her face, just briefly, and she shakes it off, rising on her toes again to finish looking.]

Nothing here. You find anything?

[Yeah, the most physical contact he ever had to think about while sharing barracks or tents with Zoë was whether she'd kick him in the ribs if he snored.

While Natasha scrounges the closet, Mal's combing through the wardrobe and finding nothing more exciting than empty wire hangers. The desk turns up nothing interesting either, just a blank pad of stationery and a King James Bible he doesn't even bother picking up.]

Nope. Wherever they keep the good stuff, it ain't in the room.

Want to go start up the heat?

You mean it ain't happened yet. That don't mean we couldn't be stuck here a while.

..Central heating. It's fucking beautiful.

Necessities of life. You got your food, your clothes, your big ruttin' furnace...

Y'all want me to come take a look? I used to fix my buddy's furnace all the time.

Could do. We might've got enough pairs of hands already but I ain't sure any of us knows how this thing works.

...I can at least give it a go-over. My daddy was a repairman. [When he wasn't a drunken bastard but what else is new?] It got a name or manufacturer on there?

I think the odds are pretty much in our favor, though.

[He should probably worry about the same thing here. She looks around, taking stock of the wires, the untouched bible, but she doesn't comment on them. When she looks back at Mal, she shrugs, and ignores the idea that she should hide one of those wire hangers under her pillow, just in case.]

Might as well. Why'd you volunteer?

[If he walks out of here with just bruised ribs courtesy of Natasha, he'll count himself lucky. In the meantime, he plans to keep one eye on her at all times, as well as one hand ready to draw.]

Why not? Crawlin' around in a cold dark cellar while trying to coax the breath of life into an old machine sounds like a right grand adventure, don't you think? Plus, I wasn't sure anyone else would.

Just you wait. Someday that ain't gonna be the case.

[Smart. Move. Because she is absolutely doing the same.]

You have a very strange idea of adventure.

Tell me it don't beat sitting around in here all night.

Anything would beat sitting around here all night.

See? Now you got the idea. And it might be there's somethin' down there worth looking at besides the heater.

Wouldn't hold my breath on that, if I was you.

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009 ✫ Voice/Spam

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[Spam] you should be because I am in such a huge hurry >:[

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[Spam] I am such a terrible person /o\

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