A Browncoat and a Greenjacket

Summary: Two captains, separated by seven centuries and many lightyears of space, are thrown together by a glitch in time. Can Malcolm Reynolds find his way back to Serenity, and manage to convince Richard Sharpe that he is neither crazy nor a French spy?

A/N: It just randomly occurred to me the other day how many similarities there are between Mal Reynolds and Richard Sharpe. They're both war veterans who were once sergeants and later become captains; they're both incredibly tough and fight like bastards hand-to-hand, and they both have a strong sense of morality which they sometimes try to pretend isn't there. Plus of course they're both complete rogues ;) I thought it would be interesting if I were to write about what would happen if they ever encountered each other.

Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing the characters from Joss Whedon's TV show and Bernard Cornwell's books – they do not belong to me.

Chapter One – Arrival

His head was hurting like hell. There was a thick blanket of darkness pressing down on his eyelids and it felt like some tiaozao chumo de mugo de arzi had taken a sledgehammer to his left temple. What had happened? There was no way he'd been this drunk last night, was there? Or perhaps he had been, for all he could recall. He tried to force his thoughts into a coherent recollection of what had happened, but the harder he tried to remember the worse his head hurt and the more sluggish his thought processes became. Gorramit, why couldn't things ever go smooth?

With a groan he began to try and move, but stopped as another violent wave of pain shot through his skull. It was at that point he realised he was lying on his front, with the side of his face pressed against the floor. On his cheek he could feel an uneven but not unpleasant texture beneath him. It was soft, but firm. Breathing in deeply the scent of grass filled his nostrils. Well, he definitely wasn't on board Serenity, that was for sure. His senses told him that he must be lying outside on the ground somewhere, but how the hell did he get here?

Malcolm Reynolds gave another groan as he tried to remember what had happened. Short flashes of memory were beginning to come back to him: there was a warehouse, he could recall that; it was the last place he remembered being. But what had he been doing there?

A job, a voice in his head told him, stealing antiques from a warehouse in New Cadiz. Remember that?

Yes, that was right, a job. He, Zoe and Jayne had gone in to pick up some artefacts for Badger. So…that still didn't explain how he'd ended up here.

Mal racked his brains as he tried to recall what had happened, the throbbing pain in his head protesting at the effort. They'd arrived at the port of New Cadiz on the planet Iber some time in the early morning, a few hours before he'd headed out with Zoe and Jayne to complete the heist. Wash had kept Serenity hovering close by the warehouse so that they'd be able to make a quick getaway, but quite clearly that hadn't happened. So what had gone wrong?

The rival gang, his internal voice reminded him again, they wanted the same thing you did. Got into a fight.

He was beginning to recall that now; the gunfight that ensued when they'd come across other crooks attempting to raid the warehouse. And then there was that other strange thing too…

Mal was beginning to wonder if maybe his aching brain was playing tricks on him as he remembered it, but the more he thought about it the more he was certain it had actually happened. He'd got into a shooting match with a large tattooed man armed with a an automatic revolver, and as they'd chased each other through rows of crates and antiques exchanging shots Mal had suddenly rounded a corner and found himself facing a glowing white light floating in mid-air. It was so bizarre that he'd had to stop and stare at it. Once he'd got a better look he could see that the light actually appeared to be a glowing sphere made of fragmented glass, and it seemed to be steadily revolving. He'd stood staring at it for so long that he'd given his pursuer chance to catch up with him, and had been taken by surprise when several gunshots collided with a crate very near to his head. He'd ducked down out of the way and rolled nearer to the light, and was about to fire back when he felt something wrench his pistol out of his hand.

It flew through the air without anything seeming to have pulled it and disappeared through the light. Mal just stared at it in shock, completely bewildered by what had just happened and panicked that he'd lost his weapon. He looked over at the man pursuing him, who took a few steps closer and brought up his gun to fire again…only to find that wrenched out of his hand too. Mal glanced briefly at the light, realising it must generate some kind of magnetic force that had pulled their weapons in, and then quickly turned his attention back to his pursuer as he realised he wasn't out of trouble yet.

A fistfight had then ensued during which several valuable antique objects had been used in ways they were never intended for, and then Mal's opponent had managed to get hold of a rather heavy old Earth-That-Was wooden bat and swung it at his head.

That, Mal suspected, was how he'd managed to get a splintering headache and a rather hazy memory of the events leading up to this. What it didn't explain was how he'd ended up lying face down on the grass somewhere. Although if he was going to find out exactly where he was going to have to get up and look round.

He rolled onto his back in an attempt to wake himself up more, and as he was rewarded with another shot of pain he immediately wished he hadn't. A haze of red had begun to filter through his eyelids and he realised it was daylight. He really ought to get up and do something to find out where he was, but he just needed a few more minutes to come round…

Those few minutes were cut short as the sound of gunshots suddenly pummelled his ears. Mal's eyes snapped opened and he immediately sat up, a rush of adrenaline numbing the pain in his head. Someone was shooting at him. Looking round he quickly took in his surroundings: he'd been lying at the foot of some valley, and he could see that the terrain sloping upwards either side of him was highly uneven and littered with rocks and ditches. A shooter could be hidden anywhere; he needed to get out of sight…

As he heard the crackle of more gunfire he suddenly realised it wasn't just one shooter: there were several of them, and it sounded like they were exchanging fire with each other. Spinning round to look behind him, Mal saw movement up in the hills and he immediately realised what was happening. Memories of the war and Serenity Valley suddenly rushed back to him: skirmishes with Alliance troops in the hills and valleys of Hera, taking cover behind rocks and trees, sharpshooting at the enemy.

But the gorram war was over, so what the hell was going on?

He didn't have time to work it out, he just knew he needed to take cover. He darted a few paces up the hill to duck down behind a scrub bush and instinctively reached to his belt for his pistol, before remembering it wasn't there anymore. "Gaisi wo ta ma de yunchi," he muttered as he glanced around, trying to work out where the shots were coming from.

He could tell that one side appeared to be firing from somewhere up the hill, but he couldn't even see where the other side was. Gorramit, he needed to get out of here and he needed to find a weapon.

Searching for another spot to take cover, Mal's gaze fell on an indent in the hill up ahead of him and he darted out from behind the bush and ran to it. As he went, a glint of sunlight flashing off metal caught his eye and turned his head to look. As he realised what had caused the glint he stopped running in shock. Somehow, his Independent Army officer's pistol was lying on the ground just a few feet away from him. How zai shen de mingzi he ta de suoyou guguai de biao shongdi had it ended up there?

He didn't have an answer for that, but was just grateful that he'd found it. Quickly diverting course, he ran instead towards the gun and snatched it up, just as a bullet collided with the ground at his feet. With a surprised yell he suddenly leapt back and spun round to return the shot…and as he did so his eyes almost popped out of his head. In the valley up ahead of him he saw two men advancing on him wearing white trousers and deep blue coats, and – the part that surprised him so much – tall cylindrical hats. Now, he'd seen some strange choices of attire in his time but none quite so as odd as that, especially not out here on the Rim – assuming that was where he even was anymore. He didn't have time to make sense of it as he realised that the two men were armed with long barrelled guns – Mal thought they seemed old fashioned even by Rim world standards, but he knew they could still do damage. He quickly raised the pistol and fired two shots, felling both men in quick succession. That had been simple enough, but now he still had the problem of how to get out of here.

He ran to duck down behind a rocky outcrop in the hill, beginning to feel a sense of panic as he realised he had no idea where to go. This place certainly didn't look like New Cadiz, and the only way he might get back to someplace he recognised would be to take a wild guess. Well, he may as well go the route that took least effort and offered most cover; so that would be heading out of the valley. He began to run again, a couple more shots hitting the ground at his feet and prompting him to utter some Chinese expletives. There were more people in sight in the hills surrounding him now, and he still couldn't work out who they were or where he was. He could see several more of the bluecoats up ahead of him, and, not wanting to waste his ammunition, ducked down into a cluster of rocks and scrub off to his left instead of shooting.

It was best to stay hidden. He remembered doing this in the war – hiding out of sight while he picked out targets before going in for the kill shot – and he found it strange how all his soldiers' training was suddenly flooding back. Ideally he ought to have partner with him – someone to keep him covered while he moved positions and picked out the next target – but Zoe wasn't here right now. At the thought of Zoe Mal suddenly felt a stab of worry and wondered what had happened to her. Had she gotten out of the warehouse safe?

Of course she has, he told himself, she's Zoe. She'll have taken down those hun dan and gotten out with the goods. And now she's probably wondering what happened to me.

Mal himself was wondering what had happened to him, but unless he managed to survive long enough to get out of this valley then he was never going to find out. He looked out through the bush and picked the spot he wanted to head to: further along the valley the hills either side slowly evened out and began to slope downwards in unison, and he decided that was the direction he was going in. It may turn out to be a bad choice, but any decision was better than no decision. And now all he had to do was get there.

First thing: assess the obstacles, he told himself. He was going to reach that side of the valley, but what might stop him getting there? Looking out, he could see most of the bluecoats had advanced far enough into the valley now to not be in his way. A few of them had been left bleeding on the floor further back, but they weren't likely to cause him any trouble. So what about the shooters in the hills?

Mal squinted his eyes to try and make them out. They were trying to keep hidden but he could still see a couple: men dressed in green and much better camouflaged than the bluecoats, but not well enough that Mal couldn't see them to avoid them. He saw one step out from behind a rock on the opposite hill to take a shot in his general direction before ducking back. The shot hadn't been aimed at him and Mal heard screams nearby as another one of the bluecoats was hit, but it had given him the information he needed to know where the shooter was.

He waited a moment to see if the greenjacketed sniper emerged again, and was surprised by how long it seemed to be taking. His own pistol was gripped firmly in his hand and he was waiting to see if he could get a clean shot, but he knew that at this range with a short barrelled weapon he didn't stand much of a chance. Maybe it would be best to just run now? He'd have to get past the shooter to get to where he was headed, but if he got closer first then he'd have more chance of getting a hit, and it was always possible that the shooter wouldn't cause any trouble for him at all.

Mal weighed the matter up in his mind and it took him a matter of seconds to reach a decisions. Now was the time to run.

Keeping a firm grip on his pistol he shot up from behind the scrub and began to run forward…and stopped abruptly as he saw a flurry of nearby movement in the corner of his vision and felt the warm barrel of a recently-fired gun press against his throat.

A/N: Thought I'd open with a cliffhanger ;). This is completely new to me as I've not tried writing Sharpe nor an accidental time travel fic before, so this might end up falling flat on its face before I figure out how best to make it work . Please bear with me. Sorry Sharpe's not made an appearance yet, but the chapter didn't really lend itself to it. I've started writing the next chapter already and I promise there's going to be plenty of Mal/Sharpe interaction.

The time portal thing is supposed to be like the anomalies in Primeval, but that's going to be the only thing that show has to do with this fic. On the issue of the automatic revolver, I believe that's what Wash is armed with in Heart of Gold. I thought it was a cool weapon so I wanted to give it a brief mention.

I've been debating with myself whether to give Sharpe the book description or the TV description. I've gone for the TV one, as since Mal is a TV character I thought this would make them better matched. Don't question my logic. It may seem odd, but it feels more natural to me to write Sharpe like this in this context. You'll see plenty of him next chapter, as I realise he's not exactly been in it yet!

I've invented the planet Iber and the port of New Cadiz and decided it's a Spanish-speaking inner Rim world, as when Mal later realises there's dozens of Spanish speaking people around I want him to take a bit longer to realise he isn't in the 'Verse anymore. New Cadiz is meant to be to Cadiz like New York is to York. I sort of wanted to do a bit of a Doctor Who reference and call it New New Cadiz, but since there's only ever been one 'Verse I just had the one 'New'. The planet is called Iber so that it's inhabitants are Iberian, like the Iberian Peninsular.

I need to go and read up on Sharpe again before I continue with this so I get my chronology and historical facts right, but anyway, that's how it starts. Hope you liked it! Reviews would be much appreciated.

Chinese translations:

tiaozao chumo de mugo de arzi = son of a flea-ridden bitch

gaisi wo ta ma de yunchi = damn my fucking luck

zai shen de mingzi he ta de suoyou guguai de biao shongdi = in the name of God and all his wacky cousins (play on Wash's "Mother of God and all her wacky nephews". I thought it was funny so I wanted to include it.)

hun dan = bastards

P.S. Please tell me if I've gone overboard on the Chinese. I usually only limit it to a handful of short words and phrases in fics, but in this one I've gone the whole hog. I thought it would make it funnier when Sharpe reacts to it later.