Somewhere in the Middle
Jan. 30th, 2009 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
browncoat2x2Title: Somewhere in the Middle
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
browncoat_2x2
Firefly Friday Challenge #231 Half of Something
Rating: PG
Word Count: 937
Spoilers: Set post Serenity (BDM)
Characters: Mal and Inara.
Author’s Note: Meh. Just playin’, seein’ what’ll come out.
She stood just outside the galley, watching him curiously as he picked up his cup and poured a small amount of liquid from it into the pitcher, paused, and then re-poured it back into his cup again. She’d watched him do this four or five times now, puzzling over what he could possibly be doing, more than a little concerned about him.
She stepped into the galley, her slipper-clad feet making little sound. “Mal?”
He looked up. “Hey,” he said, his lips lifting in a slight smile before he went back to his pouring, pitcher to cup, seemingly unperturbed by her presence.
Nonplussed, Inara sat down across from him, folding her hands on the tabletop carefully. “Mal,” she tried again after watching him return liquid to the pitcher once more, waiting until he looked up at her. “What are you doing?”
“Huh?” he asked, blinking, then suddenly seemed to realize what she meant. “Oh, this?” He shook his head. “’s nothing. Just… figuring something out.”
Inara raised her eyebrows slightly, inviting him to elaborate.
He hesitated a moment, gazing back at her appraisingly, then stood and grabbed a second cup from the counter top. Returning to his seat, he set the second cup next to the first and proceeded to fill the original cup to the top with water.
“…Mal?” she asked again, his behavior doing nothing to alleviate her concern.
He held up a finger, setting the pitcher down, and then slid the two cups closer to her. “Okay,” he said, pointing to the first cup. “Full?” he asked, waiting for her nod of agreement. He nodded back and pointed to the second cup. “Empty.”
She nodded again, warily, seriously wondering if she should wake Simon. This was getting more bizarre by the minute.
Mal seemed to sense her confusion and smiled. “Now,” he said, picking up the pitcher again. He poured water into the second cup, stopping when it was about half full. Then he took the full cup of water and poured half of it back into the pitcher. Setting both cups in front of her again, he looked at her expectantly. “So?”
“So… what?”
“Are they half-full or half-empty?”
“I…what?”
“Look,” he said a little manically, picking up the first cup. “This one started full, but I emptied half of it.” He picked up the second cup. “An’ this one started empty, but I filled half of it.”
“O-kay…”
“So, they both got the same amount of water in each, but one’s half-empty,” he motioned with his right hand, “an’ one’s half-full.” He motioned with his left hand. “See?”
She blinked. “Right.” She opened her mouth, paused, then closed it again, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. “Maybe I should get Simon,” she started, half-rising from her chair, but Mal leaned across the table and caught her wrist, tugging gently for her to sit back down.
“I ain’t goin’ crazy, that’s what you think,” he said, smirking sadly.
“No one going crazy ever thinks they’re going crazy,” she pointed out and Mal laughed wryly.
“Just go with it, Inara,” he said. “Trust me.”
Cautiously, and possibly against her better judgment, she sat back down. “All right,” she acquiesced.
He pointed at the cups again. “Half-empty. Half-full. Okay?”
She drew in a breath and nodded. “Okay. So… what is it you’re trying to figure out?” she asked when he didn’t continue.
“Which we are.”
“…which we?”
“Serenity. Tryin’ to see, with what we got an’ all that we don’t got, if our cup is half-empty or half-full.” He emptied the cup back into the pitcher when she stared at him blankly. “This is Serenity,” he said, holding up the cup. “Now we fill it for everythin’ we do got. A ship.” He poured. “A crew.” He poured again. “Freedom.” And again. “Dong ma? Then, we take away the things we don’t got—”
“Mal—”
“Like Wash,” he said thickly, pouring some of the water back into the pitcher. “Book—”
“Mal—”
“Freedom,” he added sardonically, pouring out a generous amount.
“Mal, stop.” She grabbed the cup, covering it with her hand.
He sighed. “Don’t matter how I figure it, always seem to come up on the empty side,” he said roughly, all traces of humor gone from his voice now.
“That’s because you’re making the wrong argument, Mal,” she said firmly.
He looked up at her, his eyes asking for clarification.
“Close your eyes,” she said, motioning with a nod for him to do so, waiting until he complied. “Alright, open them,” she said after a moment, setting the two cups before him, both with the same amount of water in each, just as he’d done for her. He stared at them and then at her.
“So?” she asked.
“So what? One’s half-empty, one’s half-full,” he said, not seeing how this proved him wrong.
“Which is which?”
He started to speak, then closed his mouth and frowned, crossing his arms. “I didn’ see you pour ‘em. How’m I supposed to know?”
“The answer is ‘Perception’.”
He didn’t look impressed. “So how’m I supposed to perceive which is half-empty an’ which is half-full?”
“That,” Inara concluded, rising, “is only up to you.” She squeezed his shoulder compassionately as she passed, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Mal.”
He stared at the two half-full/half-empty cups sitting on the table top a long moment, chewing on Inara’s words. In his mind’s eye, the pilot and the shepherd – his friends – raised two half-full cups to him in salute.
Lifting his cup back, he smiled, and rose to follow Inara.
Author:
browncoat_2x2Firefly Friday Challenge #231 Half of Something
Rating: PG
Word Count: 937
Spoilers: Set post Serenity (BDM)
Characters: Mal and Inara.
Author’s Note: Meh. Just playin’, seein’ what’ll come out.
She stood just outside the galley, watching him curiously as he picked up his cup and poured a small amount of liquid from it into the pitcher, paused, and then re-poured it back into his cup again. She’d watched him do this four or five times now, puzzling over what he could possibly be doing, more than a little concerned about him.
She stepped into the galley, her slipper-clad feet making little sound. “Mal?”
He looked up. “Hey,” he said, his lips lifting in a slight smile before he went back to his pouring, pitcher to cup, seemingly unperturbed by her presence.
Nonplussed, Inara sat down across from him, folding her hands on the tabletop carefully. “Mal,” she tried again after watching him return liquid to the pitcher once more, waiting until he looked up at her. “What are you doing?”
“Huh?” he asked, blinking, then suddenly seemed to realize what she meant. “Oh, this?” He shook his head. “’s nothing. Just… figuring something out.”
Inara raised her eyebrows slightly, inviting him to elaborate.
He hesitated a moment, gazing back at her appraisingly, then stood and grabbed a second cup from the counter top. Returning to his seat, he set the second cup next to the first and proceeded to fill the original cup to the top with water.
“…Mal?” she asked again, his behavior doing nothing to alleviate her concern.
He held up a finger, setting the pitcher down, and then slid the two cups closer to her. “Okay,” he said, pointing to the first cup. “Full?” he asked, waiting for her nod of agreement. He nodded back and pointed to the second cup. “Empty.”
She nodded again, warily, seriously wondering if she should wake Simon. This was getting more bizarre by the minute.
Mal seemed to sense her confusion and smiled. “Now,” he said, picking up the pitcher again. He poured water into the second cup, stopping when it was about half full. Then he took the full cup of water and poured half of it back into the pitcher. Setting both cups in front of her again, he looked at her expectantly. “So?”
“So… what?”
“Are they half-full or half-empty?”
“I…what?”
“Look,” he said a little manically, picking up the first cup. “This one started full, but I emptied half of it.” He picked up the second cup. “An’ this one started empty, but I filled half of it.”
“O-kay…”
“So, they both got the same amount of water in each, but one’s half-empty,” he motioned with his right hand, “an’ one’s half-full.” He motioned with his left hand. “See?”
She blinked. “Right.” She opened her mouth, paused, then closed it again, her brow furrowing as she stared at him. “Maybe I should get Simon,” she started, half-rising from her chair, but Mal leaned across the table and caught her wrist, tugging gently for her to sit back down.
“I ain’t goin’ crazy, that’s what you think,” he said, smirking sadly.
“No one going crazy ever thinks they’re going crazy,” she pointed out and Mal laughed wryly.
“Just go with it, Inara,” he said. “Trust me.”
Cautiously, and possibly against her better judgment, she sat back down. “All right,” she acquiesced.
He pointed at the cups again. “Half-empty. Half-full. Okay?”
She drew in a breath and nodded. “Okay. So… what is it you’re trying to figure out?” she asked when he didn’t continue.
“Which we are.”
“…which we?”
“Serenity. Tryin’ to see, with what we got an’ all that we don’t got, if our cup is half-empty or half-full.” He emptied the cup back into the pitcher when she stared at him blankly. “This is Serenity,” he said, holding up the cup. “Now we fill it for everythin’ we do got. A ship.” He poured. “A crew.” He poured again. “Freedom.” And again. “Dong ma? Then, we take away the things we don’t got—”
“Mal—”
“Like Wash,” he said thickly, pouring some of the water back into the pitcher. “Book—”
“Mal—”
“Freedom,” he added sardonically, pouring out a generous amount.
“Mal, stop.” She grabbed the cup, covering it with her hand.
He sighed. “Don’t matter how I figure it, always seem to come up on the empty side,” he said roughly, all traces of humor gone from his voice now.
“That’s because you’re making the wrong argument, Mal,” she said firmly.
He looked up at her, his eyes asking for clarification.
“Close your eyes,” she said, motioning with a nod for him to do so, waiting until he complied. “Alright, open them,” she said after a moment, setting the two cups before him, both with the same amount of water in each, just as he’d done for her. He stared at them and then at her.
“So?” she asked.
“So what? One’s half-empty, one’s half-full,” he said, not seeing how this proved him wrong.
“Which is which?”
He started to speak, then closed his mouth and frowned, crossing his arms. “I didn’ see you pour ‘em. How’m I supposed to know?”
“The answer is ‘Perception’.”
He didn’t look impressed. “So how’m I supposed to perceive which is half-empty an’ which is half-full?”
“That,” Inara concluded, rising, “is only up to you.” She squeezed his shoulder compassionately as she passed, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Goodnight, Mal.”
He stared at the two half-full/half-empty cups sitting on the table top a long moment, chewing on Inara’s words. In his mind’s eye, the pilot and the shepherd – his friends – raised two half-full cups to him in salute.
Lifting his cup back, he smiled, and rose to follow Inara.
