milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Yes, it is a Cap'n.

Might be hard to recognize really, as he is not wearing his traditional duster and suspenders; can't deal with 'em sitting over his fun new soon-to-be pretty scars, y'see.

Slipping his way to the Bar pretty much unnoticed - he thinks - he picks up some hot tea and finds an overstuffed chair and ottoman somewhere near the observation window.

[OOM: Mal is off for the night, as mun cannot sleep through her alarm clock again tomorrow. If one is particularly interested, tag for a slowtimed convo tomorrow.]

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"Do that. and add this."

Faith wolf-whistles.

Mal mimicks the whistle for Faith's approval.

"I'll remember it."

For a second, Mal just stares out of the observation window. Eventually, he shakes a finger at the view of space.

"Now that is pretty."

Faith nods, smiling.

"Yeah, it is. It was pretty nice to see 'em from your ship too."

"Sometimes, at night - when Wash's asleep in his chair or in his bunk - I'll sit up on the bridge."

"There's this one step in the front where you don't see any o' the controls - just the black."

"I was promised an excursion in one of those 'Go outside the ship' suits," Faith says, grinning. "I expect that promise to be kept, even though it came from Wash."

"Not a problem."

"Next time we got an outside junction needs fixin', we can send you and Kaylee out there and have you two workin' hard while me and the rest o' the crew's inside eatin' beefsteak."

Faith grins.

"Be nice to me, Captain, or no more trips to Earth."

A beat, and then her expression saddens suddenly.

"I guess I can't do that anymore anyway...my world's not exactly safe..."

"No world's completely safe, Faith. 'Sides, can't we do just 'bout anythin', now?"

"And? You owe me a trip to a gun shop."

"OK, but if you get eaten by a vampire, don't come crying to me."

"Don't think I'd be cryin' were that the case. That sounds like it would be equallin' dead, really."

"It's a figure of speech. I won't let you get eaten."

Mal smiles again, thinking about something else entirely.

"I know."

"Though, I catch wind of an Acpocalypse, I'm getting you guys out."

"Agreed."

"We do not need another apocalypse at the moment."

"Yeah, well, I'd have to stay behind, but I'd want you guys out of the line of fire. End of World bad, and all."

Mal chuckles softly and lets the subject drift off.

"Faith? I'm *really* happy to be getting old this year."

"Ah, not that old, surely...you can't be more than, what? Fifty?"

Mal gasps in indignation, spitting out a tight "33" before continuing a pout in his chair.

Faith grins.

"Eight years older than me! You're a baby, still."

"Ain't no baby, Faith - seen 'n done too much for bein' a baby."

"Mm, guess that's true."

Faith grins, wryly. "Of us both, really. I was 16 when I was Called, y'know."

"Called what?"

"...Called to be a Slayer."

"Oh. Yes. Of course."

Mal totally knew that.

"...Drafting," Mal makes a connection out of nowhere.

Faith nods.

"Something like that, I guess. Except, you know, they don't generally give you your very own demon when you join the army, that I'm aware of. And Slayers come with one built-in, for the strength and all that."