![]() He rose to tidy up his mess, and she eyed the gun as he put it away on a shelf for the time being. “I’ll be needin’ this table for dinner soon.” She nodded towards the dining table and the tools, cloths, and gun oil strewn across it. Zoë had raised her eyebrows at him, the way she always did when there were questions on her mind that she would never ask. Still, he couldn’t keep letting his crew catch him off guard like this. He almost dropped the gun a second time, glad he at least had been distracted by the weapon and not the thought of Inara this time. He could definitely understand its owner’s attachment to it. A little too hefty for his taste, he preferred the sleek design of his Liberty Hammer, but still an awfully nice piece. It was a good one, a 2500 LeMat percussion revolver, with customized barrel sight old, but well kept. ![]() He let it rest in his hand for a moment afterwards, getting the feel of it. He watched her leave with half an eye, suppressing the surge of guilt that welled up in him, and then skillfully reassembled the gun. “I just thought.” He turned towards her again, put up the blankest face he could muster, and seeing it, she looked down, deflated, and sighed. “Why ever would she do that? You think she wanted you to have it?” “I mean, it ain’t like Inara to be sloppy, right?” The words trailed off into nothing as she hesitated, but he knew it would come and he knew what was coming. “The crate in the shuttle,” he clarified. Kaylee stayed in her spot, as if she hadn’t heard him, and he shot her another glance over his shoulder. He returned to his work, rubbed the cloth fervently against the metal, even though the gun was already as clean as it could possibly get. “Right,” he nodded and tore his eyes away from it and everything it represented. “It was in the bookcase down in the commons,” she explained. It looked expensive, probably made from real silver, and seemed a bit out of place in Kaylee’s greasy hands. ![]() Careful not to show it, though, he gathered himself and half-turned in his seat to watch as his mechanic approached him, gingerly showing him a little pocket mirror. Mal wasn’t sure whether it was the sudden sound of Kaylee’s voice or the mentioning of a certain someone’s name that made him flinch, but either way it almost made him drop the gun he was cleaning. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |