mnt_mike | [OOM: The Garage]

Heavy is the head that's linked to Bar, especially when that head is convinced that it contains a virus that could wipe out the human race as we know it.
There's too much static in Mike's head right now for home renovation, not to mention the fact that Mel could come in at any moment...and this is one trouble he can't confide in her. Much as he loves her, sometimes it's hard to keep Mel separate from The Slayer and the Security Officer. And right now, he just needs a friend. A friend that won't judge or jump to conclusions or -- and this is his biggest fear -- react before he's made his decision.

That's when he remembers the garage, and the project going on in its depths. Mike clears his mind of thoughts, which is probably a dead give away that something's wrong.

"MapleBaby? Where's Cap'n Tightpants at?"

He's in the garage.

"Excellent. If anyone needs me, give me a hollar. But, you know...keep mum on Mal's project."

Not a problem.

Mike pulls his not often used steel-toed boots from the box currently inhabiting his closet, and begins to dress himself in a manner befitting large scale mechanical refurbishment. This means he's wearing his Ghostbusters jump suit, complete with his full name written on the name patch. A few moments later and he's clomping his way through the bar and down the elevator to the garage in search of Malcolm Reynolds.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

badinlatin

Bang

Mal's heard long before he's seen.

Thump Clank Bang

As anyone approaches, music finally starts to be heard under what sounds like metal dropping against metal. The cargo bay door is open.

From:

mnt_mike

Mike ponders the safest way to make himself known, and finally decides on whistling. It's a loud shrill sound that anywhere else might summon a bright yellow cab.

From:

badinlatin

Mal jumps, and there's something quite akin to a metallic explosion of sound from inside the cargo bay.

"I should've done that to begin with." Sounding relieved. Eventually he appears on the cargo bay ramp, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Mike. What's the news?"

Amiable, even if he wasn't exactly expecting him.

From:

mnt_mike

Mike doesn't laugh, well...at least not loudly.

"Eh, you know how it goes. Same bullshit, different day," he says with a shrug. I should be noted that Mike doesn't swear. Not usually, anyway. "Thought maybe you could use a hand or two."

From:

badinlatin

Mike's known about what Mal has been doing down here for quite some time. If this was about simply helping Mal out, Mike would have come sooner.

"Dangran. Come aboard, you can help me lift this."

'This', appears to be scrap metal from the corridor to the bridge that needs to be removed, sitting at the base of the starboard catwalk stairs.

From:

mnt_mike

He always did want to help, but didn't want to intrude. He's seen the kind of single minded devotion Mal exhibits towards this ship on his brothers before, and it's been his experience that leaving them alone is the best of all possible plans.

That said, Mal's not completely off the mark either.

Mike makes his way up the ramp and into the cargo bay.

"Wow, this is...It's bigger in here than I thought it'd be. Not like...impossibly so, but still."

From:

badinlatin

"We're very TARDIS like that on Fireflys. Get that end." Mal's taken up position at one end of the scrap metal closest to the stairs, gesturing for Mike to take up the opposing end. "One - two - three -- " and Mal grunts when he lifts.

Putting it down again just at the end of the cargo bay ramp, "You needed something or are you here for the tour?"

From:

mnt_mike

Mike picks ups his share of the metal plating. His eyes widen at the amount of effort it takes to move the damn things. Something this size shouldn't be this hard to move, says the guy who once used to be able to pick up and easily heft manhole covers. Mike's glad when the moving is done, and he gets to put it down.

It takes him a few moments to steady his breathing, then from seemingly no where.

"Mal? Am I a good boss?"

From:

badinlatin

"Hmm?" It's a standard-Mal look of confusion before heading up the ramp again. "Are you a good boss?"

The confusion shifts to a kind of awkward smile. "You're the first boss I'd had that didn't give birth to me or try to shoot me. Does that count for anythin'?" Without waiting for an answer, "What happened?"

From:

mnt_mike

"Something I think Bernard would have an easier time dealing with," he says as he absently inspects the cargo bay. "Of course...his approach would involve nitroglycerin...."

He pauses to take a breath, before turning to look at Mal.

"I've never really run anything before, and up until now that hasn't really been a problem? But now...I think it might be a problem."

From:

badinlatin

"Problems with bein' a boss. Do I get to know specifics?"

Mal's playing with his cleaning rag again, twisting it in his hands when he claims a seat on the bottom of the catwalk stairs.

From:

mnt_mike

"That's kind of part of my problem, the specifics. That and what can I, and who do I, tell certain things. Like...Okay, I know for a fact that I can't save everyone and everything, no matter how much I want to. There's just...this disconnect that needs to happen. Has to happen. And...it drives me crazy sometimes."

Mike plops himself down on an out of the way cargo crate.

"I don't know where the lines go, or if they're even there. Or if I'm the one who has to draw them."

From:

badinlatin

Mal laughs, then, inappropriate and completely sympathetic.

"Ohhh, Mike." Mal sobers slightly, trying to still keep up a shifted smile on his face regardless.

"My best friend will call me 'sir' until the day she dies, and Kaylee gives me this little twitch every time I try to get her to call me 'Mal'. Pick the battles worth fighting, because sometimes creating that disconnect where it don't exist already? Won't work."

From:

mnt_mike

"But what if they're all worth fighting? What if they're all worthy causes? And what happens to my soul if I turn my back on...on...an entire population of innocent people?" He sounds so very very lost.

"It's easy to turn a blind eye when I'm like, ignorant to everything. I mean...people wonder why I smoke, and that's the reason. Right damn there. Because if I don't I'll go crazy with worry. The pressure alone is just...but when you know something, and you know you can't control all the outcomes...and none of the ones you can see are good? What do you do?"

From:

badinlatin

"Fight anyway." It's immediate and Mal knows it's not what Mike needed to hear so he amends himself by repeating, "What the good gorram happened."

From:

mnt_mike

He pinches the bridge of his nose.

"There's a virus in the bar. In Bar. Man made, and meant to be taken back to where ever it came from. It's a world I'm not from, and....the chances are good the one who owns it will be stopped before it can be used...but there's been a threat to use it here. A threat against me, against my family, and an insult to Bar herself."

From:

badinlatin

"And this qīngwā cào de liúmáng ain't in the lockdown for why exactly?" Mal's tone rises sharply. "Ain't like you don't sound like you got cause!"

From:

mnt_mike

"But I don't! I mean...being a jerk to me isn't an arrestable offense! It's not really breaking any rules! And neither is insulting Bar! Hell...Mel'd probably break up with me if she ever caught wind of me having someone thrown in baby for the barest hint of threat against her."

From:

badinlatin

"Threats on violence here have gotten other folk thrown in jail," Mal points out. "Really. Personal experience here."

From:

mnt_mike

Blink. Blink-blink.

"Seriously? Dude, who did you threaten?"

From:

badinlatin

Mal stops for a second, mouth twisting.

"Niska. I did actually hit the man first though. Bernard kept me in lockup as long as he did 'cause I kind of said I'd do it again in a second."

From:

mnt_mike

Mike grins. "Yeah well...I can't really say I blame Bernard on that one. I mean, we can't have people just going around clocking each other here, no matter how much we think they deserve it. This place....it's not supposed to be about that. Even Death doesn't work in here if she can help it. I just...I don't know..."

From:

badinlatin

"Rules start to suck when you find out they apply to you," Mal offers, more question than opinion.

Mal leans forward onto his elbows, still sitting on the bottom of the steps.

"It all depends on how serious you think this pi gu was. As far as the virus, I don't think you're all that out o' line to remove it from the Bar, especially since if somethin' happened to it, you'd be on the line for it. Physically, I mean."

From:

mnt_mike

"That's the other thing though. I mean....part of me really wants to just take it from him, and not like...give it back. to keep it somewhere he can't get to. Safe, you know?"

Mike chances a look at Mal.

"But...I've traveled through time. And I've had it drilled into my head that you just can't change things that you don't like in the past, without something drastic happening on the other side. And what...what if doing that here will change things for the worse there?"

Edited Date: 2009-05-15 06:19 pm (UTC)