Rapids

Rated: PG

Category: Gen, Humor, Mal/River Friendship.
Spoilers: None.
Summary: Rapids Are The Water's Fun.

Notes: Written in Response to the AO April Challenge Word of 'Rain'.

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Inara had an appointment.

Book was meditating at a nearby church.

Zoe and Wash wanted real food for once.

Jayne wanted liquor.

Kaylee wanted to look at the pretty in the shops.

I knew they'd all end up at the bar, except for maybe Book, but that was shiny with me.

I was in the mood for a bit of privacy.

Suited me fine.

Simon was a problem, however. He didn't want to leave the ship. But I'll be damned if Kaylee didn't make eyes at him that no man in his predicament could resist. He'd have followed that girl to the ends of the black if not for one little issue.

River.

There was no way he'd let her go into town. She'd been actin even stranger than usual lately, and it was just too big of a risk to take.

I don't know why I did it. Maybe it was little Kaylee's pleading, but whatever the reason, I heard myself speak before I thought about what I was saying.

"I'll look after her, Doc."

Simon stared at me like my head had changed shape.

"She's sleepin', ain't she? Won't be too hard. I'll watch your sister. You go on."

"You sure?" Simon looked more than a little doubtful of my abilities in this regard.

"I got it, Doc. Now go on, get. Have fun. I think I can handle one crazy. After all, there's usually nine of us on board."

Simon smiled a little, but still wasn't convinced until he glanced at Kaylee. Her grin could've powered Serenity. He was beaten. He sighed, then nodded at me.

"Fine."

"Don't worry about a thing, Doc. We'll be shiny."

Why do I say these things?

XXX

River hadn't stayed sleepin, of course, and my privacy lasted all of twenty minutes.

'Just a little walk,' she'd said.

'A bit of exercise.'

'Some time off the ship.'

How do I get talked into these things?

XXX

The storm came up suddenly.

One moment the sky was clear and blue. The next I was soaked to the skin.

Funny how a man don't notice how damn near every planet he visits is dry and dusty til that ain't the case.

Dry and dusty turns wet and muddy in a hurry in a downpour.

Which wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't got myself stuck playin a gorram babysitter today.

But here we are.

Or rather, here we were.

I'm right where I left me, but River ain't nowhere to be seen.

I swear, that girl can sneak off quicker than a dog that stole your supper.

It doesn't take me long to find her, but when I do I'm in a right foul mood, and it shows. I'm sopping wet, I'm cold, and I ain't in the mood for this. It don't matter that the little moonbrain is dancin in the rain like joy unbridled.

"Dammit, girl! I know I told you to stay close to me! What part of that do you not understand?"

River jumps nearly three feet in the air. Her eyes widen, like she's scared. I suddenly feel like a mean old man breaking up a tea party. I move to apologize. I can do that-there ain't nobody watchin.

I step nearer to River, meaning to comfort her, or at least keep her from runnin off.

The mud has other ideas.

I slip and fall.

Hard.

I land with a splat right on my ass.

Mud flies everywhere.

And River laughs.

She laughs so hard that I wonder if she'll pass out.

For a second, I'm mad. I'm angry that the laughin's at my expense. But once I realize I ain't hurt, and that I must look damn sight past ridiculous, I begin to chuckle, too. I try to hold it in, but it's no use. Before long, I'm laughin just as hard as River, and that's when my brain gives me a notion that brings tears to my eyes with its hilarity.

I grab a clod of mud and throw it at River.

It hits her square in the face.

Her laughter stops, and her face becomes confused, then hurt, then amused again in a space of half a second.

She twirls around, grabs her own mud clod, and throws it at me.

It glances off my shoulder, but I hardly notice. I'm too busy scrambling to my knees and throwing my own wads of earth back at my foe.

River tries to run, and gorram it if that artificially superior balance of hers don't keep her upright as she spins away from me, but her decision comes a moment too late.

I grab an ankle, and she falls, face first, in the muck.

It's a dirty move, but I don't care.

Neither does River.

She laughs, rolls over, and pelts me with another dirtball. This one hits me right in the mouth, and I taste grit.

I climb up over my enemy and roughly rub a nice sandy handful of planet into her hair.

She squirms, but I hold her down until she finally cries uncle.

"River flows to the sea! River flows to the sea!"

I let her up, a little disturbed that I understand her so easily, and as I roll off her, she grins.

We lay there in the mud, winded and filthy, for a moment before she speaks again.

"Rapids."

I blink. "What?"

"Rapids."

"I heard ya, darlin, but what are you sayin?"

"Rivers. Don't always flow right. Sometimes there's rapids."

"Well, that's true." I sit up and look around. The rain hasn't slowed one bit, and I imagine there's some streams nearby that have a few tricky spots right about now, like our own River.

River grins. "Rapids are the water's fun. Can't always be proper water."

I grin back, resigned to the fact that I understand River-speak just fine. "Nope. Even water's gotta have its fun."

"But it shouldn't tell the ocean."

I laugh out loud. "No. The ocean don't need to know nothing about this."

River becomes deadly serious, and I wonder if I misunderstood her until she speaks again.

"Salt water has no sense of humor."

I laugh so hard I fall back into the dirt, and River joins me.

We laugh and laugh and laugh, and we both know there ain't no way we're telling anybody about this, much less River's sometimes way too serious brother.

A while later, a fresh mud clod hits me in the face, and I look up to see River grinnin at me. She says only four words, and they're actually true and plain, but I don't understand them. Ironic.

"We're dirty. It's late."

River's grin turns mischievous, and I realize a second too late that I'm in trouble.

She jumps to her feet and takes off. I scramble to follow.

There's no way I can catch her, but somehow I know I don't have to. I know where she's going.

The rain pelts my face as I run after her. Water squishes in my boots and I spit mud.

By the time I reach Serenity, I'm clean.

Well, mostly.

The rain's washed away nearly all evidence of my battle.

I'm also damn tired.

I collapse just inside the cargo bay doors and lay panting on the floor. It's a moment before I have the air to speak to the young woman lying next to me. She's mostly clean, too, but I get the feeling she's been waiting for me for a while. She's barely breathing hard.

"Rapids?" I ask.

"Rapids," she answers plainly.

River stands and serenely walks away, looking like she only got caught out in the rain.

I lay there for a while longer, recovering from my sprint while the rest of my crew is likely drinking themselves stupider in town, and I smile.

Some might wonder why I let that little headcase stay on my boat. Most would probably say it's because her brother is a mite bit useful around here, and they'd be partway right. But we lived without a doctor before, and we could do it again. And the whole federal fugitives thing, well, that don't make nobody's life easier. So what Jayne says makes good sense. I really should leave those two somewhere other than here.

But I've heard tell that folks used to go down wild rivers in little boats back on Earth That Was. Just for fun. Can't say that I don't understand that.

As long as the Tams bring me this much fun, well, they can stay.

Rapids, indeed.