The Universe's Mixer

( Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It's been months since my last confession... )

The split log landed atop the burning campfire with a loud clap and a rising flurry of orange specks that drifted upward with the smoke. The Captain, who'd not only thrown the timber, but cut it earlier, sat back down on one of the steel footlockers that had been pulled out of the ship to encircle the fire pit.

Sure, the weather had taken a rather pleasurable turn from the snow and ice that had come before it, but nights still had a cutting chill to them. The ship had heat, but even Mal was getting frustrated with the walls of Serenity's hull when it wasn't cruising through the black, leaving the City far behind.

The rising sparks dulled as they floated higher, the orange fading into black against the dark, star-dotted sky. The expanse of space stretched out each night as if only to taunt the planet-bound Browncoat. Lowering his gaze from the stars, he came to focus on the flames as they lapped the firewood. Quiet nights on Serenity used to be anything but. Dinner conversation would linger long after the meal'd been choked down; usually up until he or Inara insulted the other, or River did something... odd. Wash and Zoe'd manage to slip off while no one was paying any particular attention. In times where they'd had a fire like this, Jayne'd been known to trade in a gun (singular, not plural) for a guitar; Kaylee'd be trying to snag a seat closest to the doctor and it would all remind Shepherd Book of some story he'd want to share.

But here? Now? It was just Mal.

Or was it?

Fred just didn't get it. How could the City do that? Well, she was certain she knew how the City could do it, or not so much how but why. Really, it was more of a why answer that she could guess at than the how. The how was being elusive, which made things interesting for the scientist but interesting wasn't always good. There was that old curse "May you live in interesting times," and Fred was certainly living in interesting times. Well, they were sort of interesting, so why had the City done it?

Godzilla, zombies, love - really sick twisted love that shouldn't have happened at all because there was no way she would ever ever ever in her life fall for someone so very sour, grumpy, dark, brooding...He was just too old. Fred's lips pursed as she knew exactly why that line of thought didn't work; Angel was older than that ass of an editor, but then she would never say she'd been in love with Angel. Sure, lust, overly like, fanatical even, but not in love. Not too much. Just crush. Really big sorta drawing on the wall crazy crush.

How had she known she felt anything toward J.J. Jameson? The stupid clipboard was mired in hearts, which wasn't something Fred really bothered with, her name or initials and his name or initials. Of course, that could have meant something else entirely, but she didn't think so. Didn't help matters that she was rather certain the heart nonsense was covering a part of an equation that would allow her to create a moving geographical model of the City. She just needed to see if Veronica's laptop could handle the kind of algorithms...if she could even make an algorithm out. She was pretty sure that x was not going to be a function of "J.J. + F.B." and it did not equal "4 Ever".

So, it was with a little frustration, Fred was making her way to Angel Investigations. She thought maybe Angel could advance her a little on her non-existent pay, she hadn't really done anything to get paid for lately, to buy a computer. Then again, she could maybe ask for a case to get money to buy a computer; she wasn't ready to go to the Institute quite yet with her thoughts. She wasn't sure she could calmly talk to the Bruce Banner about any of this yet.