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Fic: Advances in Thermodynamics (stand alone)
Title: Advances in Thermodynamics (stand alone between Parts 5 & 6)
Fandom: Firefly/Iron Man (movie)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tony Stark/Kaylee Frye
Summary: Kaylee didn't think anything was ever going to be the same, and she was right: it's not.
Notes: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.
I know you are all worried, but I am ok. Mr. Stane sent a wave to say if worst comes to worst he can find me a job someplace else in the company. I was at the house a couple days last week so I've talked to some of the people I met through Tony. We are all hoping and just waiting to see what happens.
Sorry this is so short. I'm real busy and need to get back.
Kaylee doesn't like lying to her mama, but sometimes, you've got to do things you don't like (such as: telling your family you're busy when you haven't got a thing to do, or telling your family that the vid window on your comm unit's on the fritz, so they don't have to see how pathetic you look).
She doesn't have anything else to say in the text wave. She sets her jaw determinedly and lowers her fingers to the touchscreen again.
I'll send another wave s--
Someone knocks on her door. She glances across the tiny sitting room, then folds up the comm unit, raises a hand to twist her hair back with the stylus she was using, and crosses the room. The apartment is tiny. It's not the one that Miss Wilmer installed her in all those months ago; Kaylee decided right quick that that place was too fancy and too big, in too snooty of a neighborhood. Four months in, she went and found a cozy little place in a well-loved building off Ehrmann Square.
She's grateful for the interruption, no matter who it's going to be when she opens the door. It means she's lying to her family just a little less (she really did have to stop writing, she reasons: someone was at the door). She tucks loose hair behind her ear and she switches off the newsfeed; the muted reporter standing in front of the painfully familiar mansion gate disappears.
Kaylee finds Jim Rhodes standing in her apartment building hallway. He looks like hell, his left arm in a sling and a bandage taped just above his right eye. He's in rumpled combat uniform; there's a burn mark lining his jaw. She's never seen his face so expressionless.
"Hey," he says. He takes in the battered, well-patched furniture; fairy lights, the cat licking at the remains of Kaylee's lunch, which she only made 'cause she figured she should, which is the same reason that dinner is currently cooking away in the kitchenette. Rhodey looks at Kaylee herself, too, with the dark circles under her eyes and her pajama pants with flowers on them.
"Wèi," says Kaylee automatically, wooden, her hand frozen halfway to her mouth. He's hurt; she hadn't even thought of that.
"I'm s—"
She can't stand to hear the words I'm sorry come out of James Rhodes’s mouth. She thinks if she hears them, she's going to either shriek or start crying, and either way, it's not something she thinks she could stop. "You really wanna do this out in the hall? C'mon." She steps backward; he steps in. "You look like you ain't sat down in a week." He is ushered to the little couch, where Sparkplug loses his prime spot in favor of the guest. Rhodey tries to start it a couple times but Kaylee doesn't let him. "We'll talk after you got somethin' to eat," she calls, stirring the pot in her tiny kitchen. "Not before."
"Kaylee, I appreciate it, but really," he puts his hand up, "I'm not hungry."
"Well, that's too bad for you, ain't it?" Kaylee says, and it's a try for a halfway normal tone but it comes out too tart, and after that, they both shut their mouths.
When Kaylee comes out of the kitchen, two plates in hand, she realizes just how ridiculous Jim Rhodes looks on her couch. He ain't even that big a guy, but the apartment's so cozy and full of bright colors and knick knacks that he looks awkward as hell sitting there in a combat uniform. He's got Sparkplug on his lap and the cat seems to be asleep under his hand. His head rises at the sound of her footsteps.
"Can I talk now?" Rhodey asks, taking the plate from her. Kaylee scoops Sparkplug up off his knees so he can settle the plate in his lap. The cat makes a sleepy noise; Kaylee tells him to hush up and sets him on an armchair.
"Nope," she says stubbornly, picking out a chair. "Not til I seen you eat somethin'."
They eat in dogged silence, the only sounds Sparkplug's purrs and forks clinking. A couple bites in, Rhodey says, "This is good."
Kaylee says, "Xièxie. Don't you go thinkin' flattery's gonna get you nowhere," and Rhodey looks too exhausted to smile. He eats methodically, with a robotic rhythm that makes something twist in Kaylee's chest.
Two and a half minutes later, he holds up his empty plate and raises his eyebrows. Kaylee stops pushing her noodles around her plate and puts it on the end table. "Hăo," she says, and she folds her hands in her lap.
"We got ambushed heading into the valley. Heishŏudăng liúmáng with rockets, mules, a couple fast short-range shuttles, maybe some bigger stuff-- I don't know. I don't know." He shakes his head. "They hit so fast -- I don't know how many there were."
Kaylee doesn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nods.
"It came out’ve nowhere. First craft got blown to hell. I got up on one of the big guns, and after that--" He shakes his head again and Kaylee can read the bone-deep weariness in him, the guilt and the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
"Rhodey—" she tries, because her heart is up in her throat, but he doesn't let her stop him.
"I saw Tony once. He had," he half-laughs, a quiet exhale, "one of those S.E. monstrosity pistols in his hands and he looked as yúbèn de as I've ever seen him. I yelled at him to drop the gorram gun and stay down." He sets his teeth together so hard that Kaylee can see it from across the room, even with his mouth closed. "They hit us hard, real hard, then backed off, and nobody could figure out why."
Kaylee's voice is tiny; she feels as small as she sounds. “ ‘Cept Tony was missin.’ ”
This is all some sick dream, she thinks, and she's going to wake up any second. She's not sitting in a warmly-lit room, under fairy lights, with her cat purring on her feet and with Rhodey looking battered and awful on her couch, and talking about Tony getting kidnapped by people who have a whole lot of reason to hate him and to hurt him.
"Yeah," says Rhodey, hollow. “Except Tony was missing.” He rouses himself with visible effort; he puts on his game face when he looks over at her. “Look, we've got every reason to believe he's alive. These guys know exactly who they got; they're not gonna throw this opportunity away by doing something dumb."
"Seems to me they already did somethin' dumb," says Kaylee, flat-lipped and not buying his well-meaning, thin optimism for a second, and then she busts out, "Who are these people? The hell they want?"
The second that Rhodey looks down at his empty plate, she knows she doesn't want to hear the answer. "It might've been a squad of Dust Devils." Kaylee sucks in a sharp, shaky breath; he goes on. "They'd want him for what they can get out of him; ransom, maybe."
“I ain't no fool,” Kaylee snaps. She tastes sick in the back of her throat. “They want what he knows, an' you an' me both know what kinda scary people these are, and what kinda gorram fool Tony can be.”
"I'm gonna bring him back, Kaylee." He looks about ready to topple over, but there's no doubt he means it; his eyes are burning intent and his face is set in hard lines. "I'll find him."
"--Hey," says Kaylee, softer, and she could kick herself; she just might, after he's gone. "Hey. Don't you go blamin' yourself now, Colonel."
The look that he shoots her is sharper than the ones she's used to getting from Jim Rhodes. He says, "I'm gonna find him."
"… Hold up, you're goin' back there?" Kaylee shakes her head swiftly, white-faced. "You can't go back there. You got plasters and bandages everywhere."
"I put myself on the transport leaving in two days. I'm fine."
"You ain't fine; you're grievin', and you're about to do something real dumb."
"I am doing what's right--"
"You got a broken arm! An' all those bandages--"
"One, one bandage--"
"An' you still got burns on your face an'--" Kaylee stops dead. They stare at each other for a moment, Kaylee silent with realization and Rhodey with resignation. He looks down at his hand and finds that he's been gesturing with his fork, which he sets on the coffee table with a quiet clink.
"An' the plaster on your head,” she says, slow. “You get concussed? That why you didn't send word?"
He looks ready to object to the rest – but nods reluctantly, just once. “Yeah. They shipped me off to a field hospital. By the time they let me do a damn thing it was all over the feeds, and–” The frustration bleeds out of his voice and his expression. His shoulders slump. Quieter, he tells her: “I wanted to explain. Face to face.”
"And now you explained," Kaylee says, gentle. All at once, she scoots from her chair over to the sofa. She sits down with him and places a hand on his knee. "Xièxie, Jim."
Rhodey bows his head, silent. Kaylee ignores the way that it feels like her throat is closing up, and she squeezes his knee as hard as she dares.
Chinese translations [as always, from here]:
Wèi - Hey
Xièxie - Thanks
Hăo - Okay; sure
Heishŏudăng liúmáng - Bastard(s); gangster asshole
Yúbèn de - Stupid
Part 6
Fandom: Firefly/Iron Man (movie)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Tony Stark/Kaylee Frye
Summary: Kaylee didn't think anything was ever going to be the same, and she was right: it's not.
Notes: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.
I know you are all worried, but I am ok. Mr. Stane sent a wave to say if worst comes to worst he can find me a job someplace else in the company. I was at the house a couple days last week so I've talked to some of the people I met through Tony. We are all hoping and just waiting to see what happens.
Sorry this is so short. I'm real busy and need to get back.
Kaylee doesn't like lying to her mama, but sometimes, you've got to do things you don't like (such as: telling your family you're busy when you haven't got a thing to do, or telling your family that the vid window on your comm unit's on the fritz, so they don't have to see how pathetic you look).
She doesn't have anything else to say in the text wave. She sets her jaw determinedly and lowers her fingers to the touchscreen again.
I'll send another wave s--
Someone knocks on her door. She glances across the tiny sitting room, then folds up the comm unit, raises a hand to twist her hair back with the stylus she was using, and crosses the room. The apartment is tiny. It's not the one that Miss Wilmer installed her in all those months ago; Kaylee decided right quick that that place was too fancy and too big, in too snooty of a neighborhood. Four months in, she went and found a cozy little place in a well-loved building off Ehrmann Square.
She's grateful for the interruption, no matter who it's going to be when she opens the door. It means she's lying to her family just a little less (she really did have to stop writing, she reasons: someone was at the door). She tucks loose hair behind her ear and she switches off the newsfeed; the muted reporter standing in front of the painfully familiar mansion gate disappears.
Kaylee finds Jim Rhodes standing in her apartment building hallway. He looks like hell, his left arm in a sling and a bandage taped just above his right eye. He's in rumpled combat uniform; there's a burn mark lining his jaw. She's never seen his face so expressionless.
"Hey," he says. He takes in the battered, well-patched furniture; fairy lights, the cat licking at the remains of Kaylee's lunch, which she only made 'cause she figured she should, which is the same reason that dinner is currently cooking away in the kitchenette. Rhodey looks at Kaylee herself, too, with the dark circles under her eyes and her pajama pants with flowers on them.
"Wèi," says Kaylee automatically, wooden, her hand frozen halfway to her mouth. He's hurt; she hadn't even thought of that.
"I'm s—"
She can't stand to hear the words I'm sorry come out of James Rhodes’s mouth. She thinks if she hears them, she's going to either shriek or start crying, and either way, it's not something she thinks she could stop. "You really wanna do this out in the hall? C'mon." She steps backward; he steps in. "You look like you ain't sat down in a week." He is ushered to the little couch, where Sparkplug loses his prime spot in favor of the guest. Rhodey tries to start it a couple times but Kaylee doesn't let him. "We'll talk after you got somethin' to eat," she calls, stirring the pot in her tiny kitchen. "Not before."
"Kaylee, I appreciate it, but really," he puts his hand up, "I'm not hungry."
"Well, that's too bad for you, ain't it?" Kaylee says, and it's a try for a halfway normal tone but it comes out too tart, and after that, they both shut their mouths.
When Kaylee comes out of the kitchen, two plates in hand, she realizes just how ridiculous Jim Rhodes looks on her couch. He ain't even that big a guy, but the apartment's so cozy and full of bright colors and knick knacks that he looks awkward as hell sitting there in a combat uniform. He's got Sparkplug on his lap and the cat seems to be asleep under his hand. His head rises at the sound of her footsteps.
"Can I talk now?" Rhodey asks, taking the plate from her. Kaylee scoops Sparkplug up off his knees so he can settle the plate in his lap. The cat makes a sleepy noise; Kaylee tells him to hush up and sets him on an armchair.
"Nope," she says stubbornly, picking out a chair. "Not til I seen you eat somethin'."
They eat in dogged silence, the only sounds Sparkplug's purrs and forks clinking. A couple bites in, Rhodey says, "This is good."
Kaylee says, "Xièxie. Don't you go thinkin' flattery's gonna get you nowhere," and Rhodey looks too exhausted to smile. He eats methodically, with a robotic rhythm that makes something twist in Kaylee's chest.
Two and a half minutes later, he holds up his empty plate and raises his eyebrows. Kaylee stops pushing her noodles around her plate and puts it on the end table. "Hăo," she says, and she folds her hands in her lap.
"We got ambushed heading into the valley. Heishŏudăng liúmáng with rockets, mules, a couple fast short-range shuttles, maybe some bigger stuff-- I don't know. I don't know." He shakes his head. "They hit so fast -- I don't know how many there were."
Kaylee doesn't trust her voice to remain steady. She nods.
"It came out’ve nowhere. First craft got blown to hell. I got up on one of the big guns, and after that--" He shakes his head again and Kaylee can read the bone-deep weariness in him, the guilt and the anger bubbling just beneath the surface.
"Rhodey—" she tries, because her heart is up in her throat, but he doesn't let her stop him.
"I saw Tony once. He had," he half-laughs, a quiet exhale, "one of those S.E. monstrosity pistols in his hands and he looked as yúbèn de as I've ever seen him. I yelled at him to drop the gorram gun and stay down." He sets his teeth together so hard that Kaylee can see it from across the room, even with his mouth closed. "They hit us hard, real hard, then backed off, and nobody could figure out why."
Kaylee's voice is tiny; she feels as small as she sounds. “ ‘Cept Tony was missin.’ ”
This is all some sick dream, she thinks, and she's going to wake up any second. She's not sitting in a warmly-lit room, under fairy lights, with her cat purring on her feet and with Rhodey looking battered and awful on her couch, and talking about Tony getting kidnapped by people who have a whole lot of reason to hate him and to hurt him.
"Yeah," says Rhodey, hollow. “Except Tony was missing.” He rouses himself with visible effort; he puts on his game face when he looks over at her. “Look, we've got every reason to believe he's alive. These guys know exactly who they got; they're not gonna throw this opportunity away by doing something dumb."
"Seems to me they already did somethin' dumb," says Kaylee, flat-lipped and not buying his well-meaning, thin optimism for a second, and then she busts out, "Who are these people? The hell they want?"
The second that Rhodey looks down at his empty plate, she knows she doesn't want to hear the answer. "It might've been a squad of Dust Devils." Kaylee sucks in a sharp, shaky breath; he goes on. "They'd want him for what they can get out of him; ransom, maybe."
“I ain't no fool,” Kaylee snaps. She tastes sick in the back of her throat. “They want what he knows, an' you an' me both know what kinda scary people these are, and what kinda gorram fool Tony can be.”
"I'm gonna bring him back, Kaylee." He looks about ready to topple over, but there's no doubt he means it; his eyes are burning intent and his face is set in hard lines. "I'll find him."
"--Hey," says Kaylee, softer, and she could kick herself; she just might, after he's gone. "Hey. Don't you go blamin' yourself now, Colonel."
The look that he shoots her is sharper than the ones she's used to getting from Jim Rhodes. He says, "I'm gonna find him."
"… Hold up, you're goin' back there?" Kaylee shakes her head swiftly, white-faced. "You can't go back there. You got plasters and bandages everywhere."
"I put myself on the transport leaving in two days. I'm fine."
"You ain't fine; you're grievin', and you're about to do something real dumb."
"I am doing what's right--"
"You got a broken arm! An' all those bandages--"
"One, one bandage--"
"An' you still got burns on your face an'--" Kaylee stops dead. They stare at each other for a moment, Kaylee silent with realization and Rhodey with resignation. He looks down at his hand and finds that he's been gesturing with his fork, which he sets on the coffee table with a quiet clink.
"An' the plaster on your head,” she says, slow. “You get concussed? That why you didn't send word?"
He looks ready to object to the rest – but nods reluctantly, just once. “Yeah. They shipped me off to a field hospital. By the time they let me do a damn thing it was all over the feeds, and–” The frustration bleeds out of his voice and his expression. His shoulders slump. Quieter, he tells her: “I wanted to explain. Face to face.”
"And now you explained," Kaylee says, gentle. All at once, she scoots from her chair over to the sofa. She sits down with him and places a hand on his knee. "Xièxie, Jim."
Rhodey bows his head, silent. Kaylee ignores the way that it feels like her throat is closing up, and she squeezes his knee as hard as she dares.
Chinese translations [as always, from here]:
Wèi - Hey
Xièxie - Thanks
Hăo - Okay; sure
Heishŏudăng liúmáng - Bastard(s); gangster asshole
Yúbèn de - Stupid
Part 6