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Ain't No Sunshine	By : redqueeninwonderland Category: 1 through F > Firefly Views: 2640 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Ain't No Sunshine
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Title: Ain't No Sunshine

Rating: Eventual NC-17

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Joss Whedon's brainchild.

Summary: They said they would lick the Alliance in a month. They lied.

Notes: Sorry it took so long to update this fic, motivation is key. If anybody's reading it then please please puh-leaze review because I crave them so... And please forgive me in advance for mangling the Chinese language, whichever one I happen to stumble upon via online dictionary, anway.

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Liandra woke up to voices. There was confusion. She kept her eyes closed for as long as possible, coming to terms with her surroundings. She realized she was naked under the sheet. That was what made her open her eyes.

The people were crowded into the smallish room, each inserting their own opinion and it was disconcerting. None of them, not even the doctor, were paying her any attention whatever. And she was naked. She didn't like being naked. Ever. “Where are my clothes, please?”

There was a very stunned silence in which nobody said anything. Then a man she thought she would never see again stepped out from behind a shepherd.

“We cut that gorram steel cage off you and-”

“Malcolm?”

He clenched his jaw, pointedly ignoring her, “What wasn't tore to pieces or ripped to tatters got set aside,” he took a deep breath, “Costly frippery, Liandra. Seems whoring agrees with you.”

She flinched for a split second beneath the blanket. Zoe stepped forward, “Captain-”

“Who was he, Liandra? He couldn'ta been an old client, Doc says this's the first time you been slapped around. Or did he catch ya stealin' some 'a that fine jewelry you were wearin'?”

“Cap-”

“Well, Liandra? 'S been near'n ten years and your in a pretty mean business. I figured Doc'd find more battle scars'n-”

“He was my stepson, you ill-conceived, dull-headed, cad!” In her temper, Liandra sat straight up. She dropped the sheet, letting the anger get the better of her. In the second it took her to realize she was exposing her bare bosom to the room, she dove back under the cover of the thin material. Liandra blushed a thorough crimson. “Could you all, please, leave us for a moment?”

Mal was irked, “I'll thank you not to tell my crew what to do, you-”

“Aw, hell, Mal. She's embarrassed.”

“I don't care if she's-” Mal broke off, surprised to see his mercenary strip off his button-down flannel and hand it to the woman cowering under the sheet. Liandra took it gratefully, her blush tinging purple as she set about buttoning herself into it. Mal shook his head, “Jayne Cobb, what in the-”

“She fell inta me, and I saved her, so's-”

“Good Lord, the ape-man's got a sense of responsibility,” Simon handed Liandra a glass of water and a small tablet, at her guarded look he shook his head, “Mild pain reliever,” and set about continuing his examination now that she was fully awake.

“Liandra,” Zoe leaned forward and shot Mal a heated look, “You said he was your step-son?”

Liandra sighed, waving the doctor away she began rolling the long sleeves of the shirt up her forearms. “I did. And... he is. Well, was. We buried Franklin two days ago.” She pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek there. She looked so forlorn for an instant Mal almost felt sorry for her. Then the bitterness took over again.

“Di'you kill him?”

“Mal!”
“Captain!” Kaylee sounded shocked at the very idea.

“It's my understanding, Captain, that this lady is the victim here,” Shepherd Book stood in the doorway and somehow managed to roll equal parts questioning respect and righteous indignation in waves.

Mal rolled his eyes, “Thing you gotta understand about this lady is-”

“Is that the captain's a might biased seein' as how Miss Liandra Van Gelder once turned him down flat after a bonafied proposal of marriage.”

“Well I'll be a qingwa cao de liumang-”

“It didn't happen quite like that,” Liandra murmured, obviously scandalized at Jayne's language.

After the minor bedlam of Zoe's announcement, Mal started talking again, his tone angrier than before. Liandra understood, airing one's dirty laundry in public was incredibly humiliating. For her, anyway. “Yeah, I wanted to marry her. Got down on one knee and everything. Only she,” he said the word with such venom that Liandra sat up straighter and Zoe and Jayne both opened their stances. Going from listening to ready-for-anything. “She'd rather have her father sell her off to some backwoods madam to whore her out the the rich planters.”

Inara's eyebrows furrowed, “But Mal, that doesn't make any sense. The Van Gelder name carries weight. Even now, they're very well off-- and she would have been to old to be a comp-”

“Well maybe her daddy didn't like her steppin' out with a soldier,” Mal shrugged wide, anger flushing his cheeks ruddy. “Anyway, ask her.” His arms were crossed over his chest and he leaned forward from the doorway, positively daring Liandra to tell him he was wrong.

“Actually, Mrs. ... I'm sorry, I-”

“Butler, Shepherd,” Liandra wrapped the warm flannel of Jayne's shirt more securely over her shoulders. “Mrs. Franklin Butler,” Liandra fingered the space where her wedding band would be. Her jewelry glimmered from a tray on the counter. She wondered why the doctor had removed all of it.

“Yes, Mrs. Butler,” The Shepherd edged past Mal and settled himself on the bench next to a waif like girl whose knowing eyes made Liandra both vastly uncomfortable and safe at the same time. “I'd be very interested to hear your story.” He shot Malcolm a warning glance, “If you're willing to share it, of course.”

“Of course,” Mal's voice dripped sarcasm and Liandra refused to look at him.

“My father was... he didn't sell me to a brothel,” she pushed her hair behind her ears and knew without having to look it was a shambles. “When I met Malcolm I was very young. I was frightened and excited and I thought it horribly romantic to love a soldier. And I did,” She pinned Mal with a look he knew was just for him and a smile he told himself he didn't want, “Whatever you believe, I did love you.”

He snorted in response.

Liandra pulled her knees to her chest again, knowing it was an unladylike pose and not caring one whit. “Papa said like marries like and he wanted me to marry someone like me. That woman,” She looked pointedly at Malcolm again, “Was a matchmaker, and I wasn't sold, I went willingly.”

“I seem to remember offering-”

“There was a war on, Malcolm!” Liandra heard the desperation in her voice and damned herself for it. How many times had she told herself this? “A war you were going to win in a month, remember? You were all going to lick the Alliance and send them scrambling home-- only two years later you were in threadbare uniforms and nowhere closer to-” She saw the look on his face and sighed from somewhere deep inside herself. “Papa corresponded with Grandmere and she suggested Lady Ogden. She told Papa about Franklin Butler and that was that.”

You could have told him no.” Mal's hurt pride was a palpable thing and Liandra shied away from it.

“He would've-”

“I'd've protected you, Liandra!” He shoved off the door frame and in two steps was at the exam table, his hands rested on either side of it and his face was so close to hers she had to close her eyes against the smell of sweat and oil and leather and Mal.”Why did you turn me down? The truth this time.”

She sighed, knowing he'd never truly understand and knowing that she'd have to hurt him all over again. “You weren't one of us.”

“Cap-!”

The Shepherd overrode Kaylee's surprised tone, “Take a walk, son,” His voice was insistent. He held Mal against the wall, one hand to his throat, the other holding the wrist of the hand that would have backhanded Liandra. Liandra sat on the exam table tensed for flight and wondering how a Shepherd had moved that fast.

“Shepherd-” Mal's voice tapered off. His anger was still obvious but now it went more along the vein of impotent rage.

“I said, Take. A. Walk. Son.” Shepherd slowly eased his hands away and Mal shook himself like a prise stallion. One heated glance at Liandra that spoke volumes and he was out the door.

“I don't give a houzi de pigu where she sleeps.”

Liandra was silent until his boot steps faded. “It was a long time ago,” She finished quietly.

There was a tense silence.

“The desire for possession is insatiable, to such a point that it can survive even love itself. To love therefore, is to sterilize the person one loves.”

“River,” Simon began reproachfully and shooting an apologetic glance at Liandra. “You'll have to excuse my sister, she's-”

“You know what charm is,” Liandra began conversationally, more to Simon-the-Doctor than to River-the-sister, “A way of getting the answer 'yes' without having asked a clear question.”

“Stupidity has a knack of getting it's way,” River-the-sister answered sagely. Simon-the-Doctor sighed.

“My sister is having a conversation with a Van Gelder in Camus,” he didn't sound particularly surprised. Just resigned.

“In what?” Jayne didn't necessarily want to know, but Mal's ex was interesting in that Librarian-Could-Go-Horny-Wild kinda way.

“Camus, ancient French philosopher,” Simon answered, trying to figure if he should be worried or happy that Liandra seemed to understand River.

“Simon?”

“Yes, mei-mei?”

“Reason is a whore. Surviving by stimulation, versatility, and shamelessness.”

“Thank you, Emile Cioran.”

“I think she's telling you to butt out, Doc,” Zoe said, amused. “You were saying, Liandra?”

“Yes, I was,” Liandra sighed, “Franklin and I... we understood each other. I was happy. Then he died. Clayton- his son- felt that I belonged to his father's estate. After his death, I belonged to Clay.” She rolled her eyes, “Like a lampshade, I suppose.”

“Nobody normal tries to screw a lampshade,” Jayne muttered under his breath.

“Well, I think we've established Clayton's hardly normal,” Liandra answered archly.

Jayne had the good grace to flush.

“I never did thank you, did I?” Liandra asked, catching him off-guard.

“No ma'am, but-uh, well-,” The merc was suddenly uncomfortable, not sure why. “It weren't nothin'-”

“It was to me,” She turned to Zoe, “So what happens now?”

“Well, we'll be pretty far from Dixie soon,” Zoe sighed, annoyed at having to play diplomat to Mal's pig-headed emperor but being to much of a friend and second-in-command to complain, “You're welcome to stay with us for a time. There's room in the passenger bay, and we could let you out at the next port—or wherever you fancy. It's not what you're probably used to-”

“I'm sure it will be fine, thank you, I'll need-”

“You're more than welcome to borrow from me whatever clothes you require,” Inara put in smoothly, choosing to ignore what Mal's reaction to that would be.

“You're very kind,” Liandra answered. “I'd love to lie down if that wouldn't be-”

“Of course, you'll want to sleep,” Simon interjected offering her his arm in assistance off the table. Years of manners resurfaced and he was the gentleman, helping her small, perfectly pedicured feet to the floor. “If there's any pain, my quarters are just down the hall from yours.”

“You're very kind,” Liandra repeated, leaning on the offered arm because it was offered and it was habit.

“Like she's a gorram doll,” Jayne muttered under his breath.

“She's so pretty,” Kaylee offered, watching Simon lead her down the hall and mulling over what the lady had said.

“Yeah, under all them bruises, I guess so,” Jayne shook his head. She'd just walked off with his favorite shirt too. Dammit.

“Awe, come on Jayne, don't you think so?”

“She'll turn inta one of them high-society pieces that thinks they're better'n ever'body else and we'll have ta kowtow to her ever'whim. You'll see.”

“She seemed right nice to me, Jayne.”

“Just you wait, Kaylee. Mal's probably right to be rid of her.” Jayne shook his head at the way the Doc was struggling against her weight. Poor thing wasn't hardly anything when he had to carry her. Simon Tam was a hun dan, and that was that.

River glared over her shoulder at the mercenary on her way out of the room, almost as though she'd heard his thought.“Jayne is a girl's name.”

And that was that.
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Ain't No Sunshine