The Universe's Mixer

Zoe thought that the Captain and Wash were gone, for good. And Kaylee hadn't any idea what to do about that. This city saw fit to bring people back from the dead, only to take them away? To give her a captain to report to and then send him packing too? It. Was. Not. Shiny. Kaylee was not okay with it. She was going to finish fixing Serenity and she was going to find Mal and Wash.

The only problem was, once she got a hum, and the wires right. She realized the outside of her favorite ship was in dire need of some repairs if it ever hoped to get off the ground. So Kaylee in her cover-alls and a her welding mask set off to fix the nose, and eventually work her way across the whole of the ship. Only it was hard to keep herself rigged to stay up there, weld and hold the sheet metal in place.

This wasn't shiny. This wouldn't do.

She wanted Mal, and Jayne, and Book, and Simon, and Wash, and River, and Inara. She wanted everything to be normal. She wanted her Simon back because then at least he'd hold the metal in place or keep her straight on the rigging so she didn't fall to her death. Or if she fell he'd fix her gorram arm.

Wasn't shiny at all.

The curses that left the mechanics mouth were all muffled and in another language to the natives of the City, but she still cursed and kicked at a loose panel while hanging from the nose of Serenity by one rope.

Not. Shiny.

Shepherd Book was, by nature, a doer. Oh, he liked a find conversation, no doubt. A good discussion of philosophies and thought was always a fun exercise in stretching his mind, and that was something he felt folks should always strive for. Balance between keeping the mind sharp and the body toned, that was important. After all, it was written that the body was a temple. But when it came down to it, he wasn’t one for sitting still.

There was a goodly amount of traffic in his church, the church he inherited when he arrived in this place, and that was all well and good. But he still had a fair amount of time on his hands. Time that could be spent doing more than just keeping the grounds and the buildings clean and tended. He’d been thinking on it some, and while cleaning the parsonage, he came to the conclusion that the house was really too big for just one person.

( He should share it. )

It seemed somewhat ironic to Shepherd Book that a number of things that he needed daily were simply provided by this place where he lived, and yet when he had an emergency the thing he needed most was nowhere to be found. Admittedly, a cut finger wasn’t a true emergency. But it was definitely an annoyance when no bandages could be found.

After stopping the bleeding and determining that it wouldn’t need any trained medical attention, Book decided that perhaps he should take stock of what he had in the parsonage for such supplies and was heartily disappointed to find none. Not even an antibiotic ointment. For a body that liked to think himself prepared, that was a bit of a failing. Best to correct that now before he had a real emergency.

Which meant venturing out into The City. And hoping he could find not only what he needed, but find his way home again. It was always an adventure, and Book planned accordingly, assuming that he’d be out for some time. A short time later as he made his way across the park in search of an apothecary or a general store that would carry such supplies.

Perhaps he should not have been quite so hasty to send young Dr. Tam on his way.

It seemed to Shepherd Book that a church was never completely clean. Oh, spiritually, of course. But with people coming in and out at all hours, because Book refused to ever lock the doors, a certain amount of clutter tended to pile up. A crumpled tissue. Hymnals left laying in the pews rather than put back into the holders. Various detritus dragged in and dropped as people passed through.

He didn’t resent it, though. It was only proof that the house of God was being used. And that it was needed. He might grumble a bit as he picked up a crumpled receipt or a dropped flyer, but he did not resent it. There was also something therapeutic in cleaning. At least that’s what he was telling himself. After all, ( cleanliness was next to godliness. )

Simon had had a bad day, or bad days. He needed someone to talk to, but he didn't know who. Jennifer seemed to be busy; George was out of the question. River? Hannibal? No, he couldn't go to either of them; they wouldn't understand for all their great brain powers. He needed to talk to someone who wouldn't judge, which left out Mal. He'd never really set down and talked with Zoe or Wash, but he had a feeling that might not be for the positive. There was Inara...No, not even Inara. Simon needed someone who could truly listen and who later he wouldn't feel the need to pay or kiss.

"Book." He didn't want to doom the man to this place, but the man would have been a god-send, whatever god that was. The shepherd understood the doctor's way of life, or what it had been, even if the older man wasn't one to partake of it. Yes, Simon needed some perspective, and the shepherd would have given it, whether Dr. Tam liked it or not.

He had finished his shift and decided to go walking; the Park had become a place of interest, and that had been his intention. Yet, even the best intentions could be hijacked by the City. Case in point - Simon found his way to a church building. He supposed it made sense, seeing as he'd wanted Book, only in the advisory sort of way, but he'd wanted him.

With a shrug and a sigh, Simon entered the building; he wasn't religious - science didn't really give over to it. Though lately Simon had found himself praying a little more than he used to, even back on Serenity. So, he walked in and stood just within the entrance, waiting. "This is ridiculous."

Book was still digesting all that had been revealed to him. He’d learned a great deal in his conversation with the young man, Jesse Custer. Wasn’t exactly settling, but it was enlightening. How was he to exist in such a place?

But then, hadn’t been all that long ago that he’d been asking himself that very question after landing in the midst of a certain crew. Seemed like a lifetime ago now. Also seemed like a bit of a cakewalk in comparison to this place. After all, a few crimes were easier to deal with than the fact that there was a section of The City where color simply ceased to exist. There’d been many a time on Serenity where he’d prayed for patience and guidance. Here, he didn’t even know what he was praying for. ( Just that he was praying. )

Many a thing could happen in this place and brush Jesse by as routine these days. Zombies? Well, that was just something that the City wanted to experiment with, sort of like Godzilla. Only that had turned out to not be the City's doing. Which was surprising, actually. Two doctors, the newspaper had said. They'd been the ones to stop it, and it was suspected that they'd been the ones to start it. No further articles had been written up about it, though. Jesse had checked every day. The snow had been unfortunate and a pain in the ass, but that wasn't surprising either. They hadn't ever even had much of a winter before. It sort of actually made sense that the City would discover it and go overboard.

There wasn't really a whole lot that could shake him, after all he'd seen and been through back in Normal World, and since he'd come here, he'd seen a whole lot of other things that could just be added to his list of fucked up. Not starting with, nor ending with, a dead woman being brought in to make his life a living Hell.

So there wasn't any real reason that Jesse should feel like putting on the old clothes. He wasn't feeling more holy or righteous. He wasn't feeling particularly like a man of God, not in any new way anyway.

Maybe he was just feeling like he needed something slightly familiar as he walked the City's streets. Who could say?

Whatever it was, today he'd gotten up and put on a black shirt, and fitted his preacher's collar into the little notches. The only thing he left off was the white pants, forgoing them for black instead. Seemed to fit his mood, though that wasn't any sort of somber. It was just odd. An odd mood. That was a good way to explain it.

Jesse stopped in the park to watch the children play. Cigarette in his hand, sun in his eyes. Yes, it definitely felt like a different sort of day.

Elizabeth was glad that all the snow was gone. Not just because then they could leave the jail, but because her clothes just weren't meant for snow. It was nice to walk outside and feel warmer than you had inside. She squinted at the small bit of sunshine and waited for Book to catch up with her. Both of them had agreed to head off for some coffee to warm them both up. Better than alcohol, she was done with alcohol for now.

Well, for a little while at least.

( Who was she kidding? For today. )

(for 21, 24, Elizabeth, Connor and Deb)


Shepherd Book was coming to deeply regret his decision to leave the church. It had seemed, at the time, to be the best course of action. Only course of action really, since there wasn’t much to be done inside the building to give him any clue as to his whereabouts. Nothing to be learned by staying in one place in any case.

When he’d set out on this exploratory walk, it hadn’t been what a body would call a pleasant day, weather-wise, but it had been passable. How quickly that had changed. The snow came quick and heavy, and Book decided to head back to the church. ( Answers could wait for another day. )

Shepherd Book wasn’t entirely certain what had just happened. When he’d closed his eyes and bowed his head to give thanks for the day, he’d been in his quarters on board Serenity. Granted, it had been a fairly long prayer. Thanks were given for the continued safety of those on board, including River Tam. The brush with the bounty hunter had been just another in the series of adventures that kept cropping up since he’d boarded this boat on Persephone. But they were all still here, and for that, he was truly grateful.

He’d also asked forgiveness for the altercation with bounty hunter. Though it had been brief, to the point of embarrassment, there was still some guilt that it had been a physical conflict. With no chance to speak, to attempt to sway the man from the wrong path he’d been on. And there’d been a bit of forgiveness asked for the fib told to Jayne. He was sure the man knew he’d been telling tall tales, but a lie was a lie in the eyes of the Lord. It was best to confess all.

And though the rest of the crew might not understand why, ( Shepherd Book prayed for the soul of Jubal Early. )