Time

by Kass

Notes:
This cracktastic crossoverÂ’—between Firefly and Illusions: the Adventures of a Reluctant MessiahÂ’—was written for the self-indulgent fiction challenge.

Book found himself in a field. The sun was high, the sky cloudless, and around him cicadas droned a familiar rise-and-fall. It smelled like every farm planet he'd ever been on, like the sweet grass behind the Abbey. It made him smile.

A man sat cross-legged beside a fire, poking idly at the coals. Something wheaten baked in an iron skillet. "Pan-bread's almost ready," he called, and then looked up. "You're not Don," he said, unnecessarily.

"It appears not," Book agreed.

The man shrugged. "Have a seat. Want some water?" He held up a canteen.

Now that he thought on it, Book was indeed thirsty. He sat, and drank, and the man offered a hand. "I'm Richard."

"Derrial," Book said.

"You a pilot?"

Book laughed. "Hardly, though I spent some time on a Firefly."

"Don't know that model," Richard said, looking sorry. "I fly a Fleet."

Book looked around, instinctively, though there was no sign of a craft, and hadn't been when he...arrived?

"It's not here, obviously," Richard said.

No point in beating around the bush, was there? "Where... is here?"

Richard looked baffled for a moment, then laughed. "I'm not sure I know. A dream, I guess."

"I see," Book said, though he wasn't sure he did.

"Don said I could always find him here, if I really needed to talk." Richard shrugged.

Book considered. This wasn't the afterlife he had imagined. Strictly speaking, he wasn't sure what this was. But there couldn't be harm in befriending a stranger, could there?

"I'm happy to listen," he said.

Richard seemed to consider this. "You seem like a listener." There was a pause. "Well, the bread oughtta be ready. You got time for a story?"

"All the time in the world," Book said, and knew it to be true.

(300 words)

The End