Self Defense
Arrival + 7 weeks
Christian's House
Lucifer's Landing, Angel
1030 hrs, local time
Christian had risen earlier than usual to do some baking and thus woke the rest of us with burnt biscuits and perfect pancakes. I ate quickly—against Christian's warning to slow down or I'd choke and then where would he be—and dragged out my tools as the menfolk finished the last of their breakfast.
I got the oven opened up and made my initial assessment of the damage while Lem got down on the floor next to me and Christian leaned against the counter and kibbutzed. Home is where the heart is, or so the saying goes. At that moment, with a mechanical problem in front of me, Lem next to me adding his poke and prod, and Christian tossing in his two cents over my shoulder, it was as close to home as I could get. The memory of doing something similar with my father and brothers while mother looked on was strong and déjà vu made my head swim.
Either that or fumes from the cleaner I had scouring the soot off the oven walls was getting to me.
"Give the lady some air, boys," I said, settling back on my haunches and ruffling Lem's hair. "Get your books, malchik moi. You're late for school. Papa? See he gets there?"
I had to move fast to plant a kiss on Lem's cheek before he scrambled off for his bag and suffered a buss on the top of my head from Christian before he swanned out. A moment later the front door slammed and silence settled over the house. Thus safe from Christian, I set about taking apart that bitch of a stove and spent the next hour and a half putting her together again. Convection ovens are heavenly when they worked right and hell when they didn't and either way they were a finicking business to repair. So I was buried inside the thing when Joshua found me, head and shoulders in the oven, ass out, and turning the air blue in Russian.
"Ispravit, chiert voz'mi!"
Which was another reason to get our boy out of the house. Sometimes a woman needed a good swear without witnesses to guilt trip her out of it.
***
Joshua had been looking for Christian to discuss some financial details, but instead found Rina in an extremely awkward position, that cute ass of hers sticking out of an oven.
"Such language." Joshua's tone was even and calm, an indication he didn't really mean it. "What else do you use that mouth to..." And he suddenly zipped his own mouth shut. He just kept stepping in it as he forgot that things weren't the way they used to be.
He paused for a minute, and then redirected the conversation back to safe territory. "Oven broken? I hope?" It wouldn't surprise him if Rina was messing around with the innards of the oven just to mess around, but if Christian the cook was anything like Joshua the cook, kitchen appliances were to be left alone until they didn't work anymore. You got used to the way they were and adapted your style to the appliance's quirks.
***
I wasn't expecting visitors or even Christian so the sound of Joshua's voice startled me and my head hit the roof of the oven.
Bang.
"Dierma!"
Ow.
Let's try that again. I backed out and then straightened and managed not to brain myself doing it. I wiped my hands on a work rag and rose.
"Hey," I said, carefully ignoring what Joshua had left hanging. "Have a seat. I'm almost done. You want anything? I think we've some...," I trailed off as I turned and saw the state of the kitchen table. Christian had kindly left me the breakfast debris to clean. Pancakes sat soaked in syrup, egg yolks glued toast crusts to the plates and several houseflies were enjoying the spread. "... breakfast… left," I finished lamely. "Um. I'll make tea."
And I left him to find a chair while I got that kettle going.
***
Looking at the remains of breakfast, Joshua smiled. "Remember, I like cleanup duties, even if I wasn't the cook." And rather than sitting down, he started gathering plates to empty their contents in the trash before washing.
***
Christian's kitchen spanned the rear of the house, save the bathroom to the side, and the counters were a generous L-run with all the requisite appliances. It was spacious enough for two people to get food on the table without bumping into each other. Even so, I was aware of Joshua's whereabouts while I had my back to him and it reminded me of my first cooking lesson with him aboard the Gift. Back then it was arousing and uncomfortable. Today it was just... familiar... no more or less, and I was relieved that I was spared the upset. I wondered if it was the same for him and was annoyed that I didn't dare ask. I didn't want to make things worse, however much I wanted to know if they were getting better. So I watched the kettle instead, making sure the flame under it was at the right intensity, and spoke to it as I addressed him.
"There's a slew of tea in the cabinet over the sink. I swear, the man collects tea the way some people collect ties or something."
Keep it light. No worries. Just talking tea.
***
"Tea is comforting, Rina. Relaxing, even. Why do you collect the stuff that ends up in those coveralls of yours? Everyone's got their thing." He was trying hard to keep a solid distance from her. Both physically AND emotionally, he thought wryly. There would be no flirting today. And the thought of that loss suddenly twisted his stomach into a knot and he threw himself into scrubbing plates to push that emotion away.
***
I heard the splash and run of water at the sink and the sounds of vigorous scrubbing. I stole a look at him and caught the line of his back and shoulders, gauged their strain against the task of scrubbing the plates clean.
Chamomile tea. Or mint. He needs something to soothe him down, I thought and then the devil inside me whispered: You could take him upstairs and fuck him blind. That would soothe him all the way down.
Shut up.
Just sayin'.
My groin gave me a lurch and a prod and I firmly ordered it to behave. So much for my equilbrium. What was it about familiarity breeding contempt? It might not have been contemptuous to take Joshua upstairs and have his way with me but it would have been what? selfish? cruel? Certainly unwise, no matter how much he or I wanted it.
"What kind of tea would you like?" I asked him before the kettle started to scream.
***
"If he's got black cherry in that pile, that'd be great. Otherwise, I'll go with mint." Joshua realized he had nearly scrubbed a hole in the plate he was holding. Definitely clean enough. He sped up his efforts and after three minutes, he had the collection of breakfast dishes clean and air drying in the nearby rack.
He grabbed a towel and dried his hands off before sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs. As he did, he watched Rina leaning over the stove, keeping an eye on the tea kettle. She certainly seemed to have it together better than he did. Not really surprising. She was definitely tougher than he was.
***
When the water was ready I poured some of it into the teapot and rummaged through the tea stash to allow the porcelain to warm up. 'Rummage' was actually a misnomer, since Christian kept his stash fastidiously organized. Everything was visible at a glance and categorized as to type. No, I dithered over the tea to gain some time. Black cherry? Or mint? I preferred the bracing slap of mint in situations like this but went with the cherry because it was the first requested. I pulled the correct canister from the shelf and pouring the cooling water from the teapot, I measured the tea and poured the hot water over the leaves. The tea things followed next on their tray. "Do you want anything to go with this? We've got sugar and I think there's a lemon lurking around here somewhere..."
I finally turned around, the pot wrapped in a cozy, and put the tray on the table.
***
"Sugar and lemon would both be good. Thanks." Something about drinking tea always added formality to his voice and to the situation. Probably a good thing. The last thing he and Rina needed right now was to be more casual.
***
Finding the lemon took a few minutes and I paused halfway in my search to pull the infuser from the pot, lest the brew grow bitter. Of course, had Christian a proper samovar, I could have made proper tea but the samovar was on the Gift and Christian preferred taking tea either as they did it on Sihnon or in the British fashion. I rolled my eyes and kept looking.
"Ha!" I crowed and exited the pantry with the lemon held high. "I knew we had one."
Slicing it thin was the work of a few seconds and the lemon joined the tea at the table.
"Christian's seeing Lem off to school," I said as I poured. I set Joshua's cup in front of him and sat down with mine in hand. "He should be back soon, unless he sees something at the market we'll need for the day. He prefers getting the groceries in the morning."
***
Joshua squeezed the lemon gently over his tea and then added a spoonful of sugar. As he stirred, he commented, "You're positively domestic, Rina." You and Mike will set up house together somewhere nicely.
***
"Blame it on, Christian," I snorted gently into my cup. "Living with him, domesticity is damned near infectious. But you have to admit, he keeps a nice house. Picket fence, curtains... you've seen the parlor. Nothing too stuffy or formal but comfortable without being sloppy." I gestured at the house in general with my cup. "God knows how he got all this, way the hell out here."
I sounded hopelessly inane but small talk was better than sitting awkwardly in silence.
***
"Christian seems like the kind of person who is always put together. People like that never let a little detail like being out on the Rim get in their way." He took a sip of the tea - it was good. Joshua admitted to being a weakling when it came to tea. It needed to be fruity for him to really enjoy it. Fruity tea and a quiet setting. But he didn't want the quiet today. Filling the silence with conversation prevented him from thinking about other things to do with Rina in the empty space. Damn him if he wasn't hopeless.
"So...." he looked over at the oven as he spoke, "what was wrong with it? Or were you just tinkering?"
***
“Convection oven. Not convecting.” I sipped my tea, put it down, and described the events of the morning. I managed to make it humorous, a rarity for me, and finished by saying, “As for the biscuits, they were a total loss. I doubt even the most dedicated scavengers would want them. Christian seemed quite demoralized over the failure. He prides himself on his cooking.”
***
He smiled at her story of breakfast gone wrong. He had been in similar situations before and they always ended up being funny to the people being served, if not to the cook. "I empathize. I take pride in my cooking too. But you learn from failure too." He pursed his mouth, thinking about that. "Although, I guess the only lesson learned here is to make sure to have Rina on hand all the time to keep your appliances in shape. Or Lem, perhaps."
***
“Did Christian tell you Lem dismantled the fridge? To make a pet dog with the parts? Christian says he’ll see about getting Lem a real one if he can show him he can handle the responsibility.” I shook my head. “I suspect part of that involved putting the fridge back together. Spins like a top now. Which reminds me….” I rose, unable to sit still or settle on a conversational topic. “I’ve got something to show you but it’s out back at Muleskinner’s. You got a spare minute or three?”
***
Like somehow he didn't have bundles of spare time. Nika couldn't keep him busy all the time. "Sure, for you? I can even spare five." The side of his mouth tilted up in a quirky smile as he stood up and finished his cup of tea.
***
I grinned back and checked my shoulder rig. Gun strapped in, rig snug under my coveralls. Done. Just stand up and go.
“Come on,” I said and pulled him to the door. “We can get a solid hour or so in if we leave now.”
***
An hour or so of what? he thought to himself. But he kept quiet as he let Rina lead him to whatever she had stashed behind Muleskinner's.
***
Muleskinner’s was toward the far edge of town, backed up against the crater with a broad platform over the rocky lip. That was the scrap tip, he’d explained to me. Anything he couldn’t use went over the side and when I’d looked out over the railing, I eyeballed the space surrounding it. No one, it seemed, liked living near the scrap tip and the nearest neighbors opposite were over a mile away. Perfect for my purposes and when I suggested it to him, he seemed fine with it. Finding a battered box for the cans and whatnot wasn’t a problem and it was waiting for me when I arrived with Joshua in tow. I’d waved to Muleskinner in passing to let him know we were going back and he nodded and put up the signs.
“I know Nika’s been cross training you in flying and I don’t know if she’s had you do any practice with her rifle, but…” I started pulling cans from the box as I spoke and arranged them on the rail overhanging the crater. “Pistol practice wouldn’t go amiss. If you take three steps from the back wall, you’ll have twenty yards. Kinda close, but there’s no chance you can hit anybody by accident back here. You could go wide as you like so long as it’s past the rail. There’s no one in range before the bullet spends out.”
I slapped the last can on the railing and took Joshua’s hand to lead him to the rear wall of Muleskinner’s tractor shed.
“You can use my pistol. We can take turns.”
***
Oh hell, no. He shook his head tightly. Bad enough that Nika was trying to get him to learn. Early on, he had pretended to pay attention before taking a stand there. But he couldn't handle this from two fronts.
"No, Rina."
Simple and to the point. Rina would, of course, take it as an clear indicator of his will and they could move on to other things. Also, he was pretty sure he could see flying monkeys coming out of his ass.
***
I didn't get two steps from the railing before Joshua balked and my glee at showing him the surprise I'd arranged for him went up like a match to flash paper. I flung his hand from mine and spun around.
"Chiert voz'mi, Ioshua!” I snarled. “Do you hate guns so much that you won't even gorram touch 'em? Or does anything with a trigger queer it for you?"
***
"If I'm not going to use them, what's the point in training with them?" And Joshua shook his head again. "And I'm not going to use them. And it doesn't have anything to do with the trigger." He rolled his eyes at her in response to the eye rolling that she had surely already given him.
It might be irrational. He was willing to concede that. Why not get the pistol training? Then he could use a tranq pistol. Shoot people at range and quietly take them out of combat. But how long would it be before they just had him using a regular pistol, since it was what they had. Just shoot for the legs, Joshua. And then before he knew it, the line would be crossed and he wouldn't even be thinking about all the costs of what he was doing.
He had drawn the line, no matter how irrational the placement of it was. He had made his choice and he believed in his decision. Now he was going to stand firm.
***
"Not going to—," I stuttered, completely thrown. "And that's after you've told me how much you hate not being able to do anything in combat?"
***
"Guns are for killing people, Rina. If you're using them right, that's what they do. I don't want to kill people." There was enough of that in the Verse as it was. No need to add someone else capable of killing.
***
I should have seen this coming. I really should have. It wasn't as if he hadn't already given me fair warning.
Memory of a conversation we'd had, back when I was laid up after Fei Wu Ling's knives had done their work on me, came back to me in the spring sunlight of Angel.
"But when I think about someone dying, I think about what it must have been like, and selfishly, I think, 'There's another book closed that I'll never get to be part of.' It's stupid, selfish, and creepy. But I think it anyway. And I don't know if I could kill anyone. And that's what I guess I'm trying to think about. Is it necessary for me to be able to kill someone?"
"Not as long as I'm in the room." I promised him then. Blinking back to the present, I sighed and rearranged my internal landscape to fit Joshua's position in it. His dogged anti-gun stance was frustrating and if I had to describe it, I'd have been tempted to call it militant pacifism were it not such an oxymoron. I strode over to the scrap box and rooted through it, thinking I'd seen a—yes.
I pulled out a discarded can of spray paint and shook it. The mixers rattled and gauging the heft, it had some paint and accelerant left.
"Okay," I said, shaking the can vigorously and pulling my lighter from my pocket. "If not guns, then there are alternatives. Weapons of opportunity exist all around you if you know where to look." Suiting action to word, I pointed the can at the empty space of the crater, gave it a squirt and touched the flame of my lighter to it. The spurt of fire shooting forth was pretty respectable and I shut it down after a second, point made.
"Oven cleaner works, too. I know you'll have that in the galley. Dish soap and gasoline? Quick and dirty napalm. Ammonia cleaner and chlorine bleach? Mustard gas. If you could bring yourself to do it, a pressurized metal canister in the microwave on 'high' for 20 seconds would make a nifty IED. Or if you're cornered and it's up close and personal, you've got knives and skillets and pot lids. Hell, even the baking soda you keep on hand for grease fires would stop someone in their tracks if you threw it in their eyes. Long enough for you to kosh them with something."
I drew my arm back and threw the paint can over the side like an outfielder throwing for home. I watched the thing sail into space and turned to face Joshua.
"A gun is the most-used weapon of choice in the 'Verse, but it's not the only one. Confuse the enemy. Be inventive. I can teach you that. No guns need apply."
***
Napalm? Mustard gas? Is that how she viewed the world - as a series of items that could serve as a weapon? He shouldn't have been shocked, but it still unsettled him a little. "How is setting someone on fire any less killing them than using a gun on them? It's not the instrument, it's the intent."
He sighed a deep breath. "I know I frustrate you, Rina. I'm sorry that I can't be the way you'd like me to be." Joshua wished he could become the aggressive, gun-toting defender of freedom everyone on the ship wanted him to be. But he had made a decision, one of his first decisions outside of Blue Sun's control. Never to kill, never to take someone else's choices away from them permanently. He had based part of who he was now on that decision, and it felt like betrayal of himself to give in now because it would be convenient for someone else.
***
My temper was running hot and his logic was a bucket of ice water on it. Water on that much heat nets you steam and I worked it off by pushing off the rail and striding to the shed. I slapped my back to it and leaned on the weathered wood and let my frustration go.
I let my head tip back with a thunk and waited for Joshua to join me or cut out as he chose.
***
Joshua had pissed her off something fierce. Watching the way she walked to the shed, he could see the anger radiating off her in every single movement. But he wasn't going to let this go. She had to understand this was the way he was.
He followed her, leaning up next to her in silence. She'd talk to him when she was ready.
***
How is setting someone on fire any less killing them than using a gun on them? It's not the instrument, it's the intent, he'd said. I know I frustrate you, Rina. I'm sorry that I can't be the way you'd like me to be.
His words were a gutstab, and the truth of them only served to twist the knife. He's right, you know, came that internal whisper. He's not Nika or Arden or you. A gun will never be something he'll willingly use and killing is not something he'll willingly do. Best not even try.
"It's not your fault," I said after we'd shared the wall in silence for a bit. "It's mine. I'm trying to turn you into something you're not. And there's really no way I can justify it."
I looked at him leaning next to me and said, "I was wrong and I'm sorry."
***
Joshua gently patted her on her shoulder, to let her know things were still okay between them. "You want to see me safe. Noble goal. I'm not upset with you. How could I be? You're honestly trying to make sure I don't get dead the best way you know how.”
She meant well. Hell, they all did. It was what they knew, it was what kept them safe. So was it any surprise that they couldn't understand why he didn't want to walk the path that had worked out for them? And he tried his best not to judge the way they did things. That wasn't his place or right. But a road that involved killing wasn't one that he would ever feel comfortable on
He let the silence hang between them for a minute before diving back into the lurch. "If it helps, I'm always willing to go in hand-to-hand, where I know I can control the action. And I'm willing to do things that will disarm or incapacitate - like using an electric shock. I'm not against pain, if it was necessary and not excessive. Pain goes away.”
***
"And death doesn't. I don't want you dead." I took his hand from my shoulder and as I had so many times since landfall, I laced my fingers in his. Not as satisfying as a kiss, certainly, but less weighted with behavior we were both trying to avoid. "So. Alternatives. Taser? Stun baton? Harsh language?" I added, with a quirk of a grin to show him I was joking.
***
Joshua chuckled at the last alternative. "I believe in the power of words. Christian probably does too. I know they can't solve any problem, but still..." He ran through the list of options she had presented.
"Taser is an option, though I don't know how expensive those are. Stun baton would work too. I'd also be willing to learn how to throw a good stun grenade or smoke grenade, something that could draw attention away from us.”
What were they not thinking about? Then it hit him. "It also wouldn't be a bad idea to figure out an alternative that would be useless if taken away. Like a lasso. Or a boomerang. Something unlikely to be turned against me if I had the weapon wrested away." It sounded silly to be talking about using a lasso. They were crew members on a bloody spaceship, travelling between the stars and Joshua was talking about throwing boomerangs. But old tech had a certain sort of appeal to him, a path different from the norm.
***
"Boomerang?" I asked, tickled. "That's one helluva curve ball. In terms of being inventive, I'd say a boomerang certainly qualifies."
***
"Joshua, king of the boomerang...the Borrower from Down Under!" Suddenly struck by the absurdity of it all, huge bursts of laughter sprang out of him and he almost fell to the ground as giddiness overtook him.
"The practical...,” he started to say with a chuckle, and then the laughter overtook him again. When he finally got himself under control, his breathing a little more even, he started again. "The practical problem is finding someone to teach it. Do you see people on every street corner selling boomerang lessons?”
***
"Good point. And if I recall correctly, one of those needs more room then we have on the Gift to practice. Scratch one boomerang." I was warming to the theme, my thoughts diverted from their usual tracks and Joshua's presence was less... diverting... as a result. "Bolas, maybe? We have the room to sling those. I could rig up a target for you."
***
Bolas...bolas...what were those again? Oh yeah, he thought, as his brain finally found the image of a bola it had been trying to find for him. Rope with weighted ends. The picture in his mind was of a cowboy riding an animal down by tangling its legs with the bola. That could work.
"That wouldn't be a bad idea. Cheap and easy to make and pretty much non-lethal, right?"
***
"Like with a gun, it depends on where you're aiming it." I sobered on returning to more familiar territory. “Around the legs? Not so much. Around the neck? Hard to come back from that one."
***
"That's the kind of intent I can handle. I wonder if I could use this to disarm from afar. You know, whack 'em in the arms." Didn't do a whole lot of good to have a guy down on the ground if he was still armed when he got down there.
***
There were any number of things I could suggest as a solution to that problem but knew they'd only touch on territory Joshua wanted to avoid. So I grimaced and said, "I doubt I'm the one to advise you on that one. You know what I'd do in that situation."
I gave his hand a squeeze to let him know I didn't hold his principles against him. Certainly not when he was thinking around the offensive limitations he'd imposed on himself. If he was never going to pick up a gun, at least he was willing to pick up something and it went far to assuage my anxiety for his safety.
***
He nodded. "I know. It's definitely not the most efficient solution. I admit that me playing around with lassos and tasers and bolas is certainly the exact opposite of efficiency." At least he hadn't suggested setting some sort of elaborate Rube Goldberg trap every time it got violent. Now there was inefficiency.
"But thanks for letting me bounce the weird and wild off of you, Rina.”
***
"The weird and the wild? Not anywhere near close." I gave our conjoined hands a little shake. "But I'm glad you're making the effort. Actually, relieved is more like it."
I realized how that must have sounded and quickly added, "I know you're capable of defending yourself, Joshua. Discussing the options isn't something we've done before and I feel better having done it. And... you know, maybe I should just stop digging. I'm deep enough in the hole as it is."
While I could still see daylight, at least.
***
Rina? Digging herself into a hole? Joshua was less than shocked. "Once again, I know you have my best interests at heart. Don't worry too much about hurting my feelings. It was good to talk about it. I'm not going to allow myself to be helpless again, that's for sure." Those battles on Colchester had been a disaster and he hated feeling like he didn't know what to do when the bullets started flying. Or the laser beams, as had been the case then.
***
"Good to know," I said and slid a look at him. "There's weapons of opportunity, too. I know a few tricks I could show you."
My thumb stroked his of its own volition and I let go his hand when I realized what I was doing.
"Sorry." I shoved my hands into my pockets and frowned at my boots. Last thing we need right now were mixed signals but dammit, half the time I don't even know I'm sending them.
***
Joshua sighed as she jerked her hand away and stuffed it in her pocket. "Are you really that worried that basic human contact is going to have us fall back into bed? Are we doomed to never touch each other again?" He said it calmly, ignoring how he savored the now infrequent touches like a beautiful piece of music - something he could treasure and replay back in his head during quiet moments.
"If we don't give ourselves something to test against, we're going to fall apart at the first challenge." Did he actually mean that, or was he just making excuses to allow for more contact between him and Rina? He tried to sort out the motives in his head and failed miserably. When it came to Rina, he was completely tangled up inside.
***
"A little over a year ago, I'd've called you a liar to your face for saying that. And that's assuming I didn't hurt you first." I deliberately took up his hand again and squeezed it gently. "Something as simple as this? I wouldn't have done it. And might well have ripped the thumbs off anyone who tried."
I raised our clasped hands for emphasis.
"See? You still have all your fingers. Progress." I lowered our hands with another squeeze. “I’m not afraid of falling back into bed with you, Joshua. That would be infinitely preferable to going back to the way I was. Isolated. Paranoid. Alone. That box is too small now and I'd have to chop off parts of me to fit inside it. I don't want to do that."
***
"I don't want to be the cause of a setback for you. But please don't tell me you're not afraid of falling back into bed with me." He shook his head slowly. "Holding hands I can manage...I don't think I'm up to the temptation of you saying that sleeping together would be acceptable.”
And before she could say anything, he hurried on. "I know that's not exactly what you're saying. But to those of us with no willpower to speak of...”
***
"Right." I nodded then turned my gaze past the rail to the crater beyond. "You're trying to find the happy medium. So am I, if only from a different direction. That's what I meant. I wasn't trying to... tempt you or anything. Not like that." I frowned at the far horizon. "I'm just going to shut up now. Words aren't helping any here."
***
"I'm not helping, I know. I wasn't trying to imply that." He squeezed Rina's hand a little and looked out at the horizon with her. "We're going to stumble, I guess, as we trying to find our way. As long as we pick ourselves back up and keep going down the same path, it will be okay." He felt a little better knowing that she was having a hard time too. But they were both doing better now than a few weeks ago. Time helps, he thought.
***
If only he knew how badly I wanted to stumble. I didn't trust myself to say anything but kept my eyes on the horizon and nodded to let him know I heard him.
***
Joshua stood there quietly with Rina, hands clasped together, looking out into the crater. They just needed to stay vigilant, he thought. Keep an eye out for the things that might cause those stumbles. If they did that, they'd be okay. This moment together, hand-in-hand, was proof.
For the first time since that quiet moment under the stars weeks ago, he admitted to himself they could make it work as just friends. Even if he would always want it to be more.
***
Go back to Timeline, Season Three
Go to Peripatetica - Rina's Journal entry and RP log
Go to Rina's Russian Glossary
Go to Rina's Crew Page
Go to EPISODES or TIMELINE
