It was quiet, and River was bored. The crew were investigating the Mayflower. They'd found it dead, lost in space. Simon wouldn't tell her what was wrong, so she'd had to find out from the ghosts. Their ship had been attacked by a monster. The ghosts had been terrified of it, even they were monsters too. Slavers. They'd howled when she told them they deserved it.

 Unsupervised in Serenity's cargo-bay, River danced. She spun on the balls of her bare feet, her lilac dress flying out in wide circles. Then she turned a corner, and came face-to face with the monster. He knelt over one of Serenity's smuggling hatches. His platinum-blonde hair was slicked back, and he wore a black leather duster.

"Bollocks," he swore, speaking with an antiquated British accent. She heard him on the inside too: roiling pangs of ancient, barely-restrained hunger. Then, 'Shit, I hope I don't kill her' as he rose to his full-height, and lunged.

River dipped sideways. She grabbed his outstretched arm, and levered the intruder onto his back, unleashing a furious scream into his face. Then, she stamped down onto his solar plexus. He curled into a ball. She kicked him again and again. She screamed into his insides too, piercing and paralyzing him.

"Oi-" the intruder choked out. "Stop that-"

River felt approaching footsteps juddering through the floor of the ship. 

She slammed her foot into his face. Her skin split against his teeth. Pain. Her blood flecked his face. The man's eyes yellowed, his face bulged into a monstrous grimace, as fangs erupted from his mouth.

The crew stopped a few meters away, mouths open in stricken shock. River had the man pinned to the ground. She pressed her knee harder into the man's neck, and smiled sweetly as Simon approached.

"青蛙操的流氓, River! Get away from him!" Simon yelled.

The man beneath her snarled, revealing his inhuman face.

"Reaver!" Jayne pointed. "It's a mother ruttin' reaver on our boat!" He drew a pistol from its holster. "You get out of the way girl, and I'll put him down."

"The bear," Wash said thoughtfully. "Mal, this has to be our space bear. Murders solved."

"He's a poet." River said calmly.

Unexpectedly, the man surged to his feet. One of his cold hands gripped River's throat. The other snaked around her waist. River struggled fruitlessly. He was simmering on the inside. And so, so hungry. It made own her throat burn.

"I'm not a bloody reaver," he said, gasping for breath. "And, I'm not letting go of this delightfully violent lass until I'm convinced you won't blow my brains out. You, order-y one," he said, looking at Mal. "Call your gun monkey off."

"Do as he says, Jayne." Mal ordered.

The mercenary did as he was told.

"We got off to a bad start here," the man said. "But the good news is we can all walk away from it alive. Isn't that nice?"

Mal took a step forward. "The way I see it, you're trespassing on my boat and threatening a member of my crew. You're going to need some compelling talking points to convince me to not put you out my airlock. Who are you?"

"The name's Spike. You?"

"Captain Malcom Reynolds."

"A pleasure, Captain. And don't you worry, I'll let her go once your trigger fingers stop twitching." Spike tilted River's face to look her in the eyes. "It's the least you could do, considering the welcome you just showed me."

River moaned. He was so hungry. It would hurt less to- She stuck her fingers between her teeth, and bit down, drawing blood.

"Oi- what the hell are you doing?" Spike asked.

She groaned, and bit harder. Then, she scrabbled at Spike's grip on her throat with her wounded fingers. Hot blood quickly slicked her hand, and neck. 

Spike's throat burned like someone had shoved a hot iron poker down it. Her throat burned too.

She felt her fingers in his mouth, and whimpered as he sucked deeply. The pain in his mind eased, replaced with a simple animalistic pleasure. Peace. His grip around her neck went slack. 

"He's a gorram blood reaver!" Jayne shouted.

In Spike's insides, he was lost to the blood that sated his thirst. River knocked her head backwards, stunning him, and leapt away. Spike stumbled forward.

Mal drew his pistol, and fired into Spike's chest.

River braced for the agony of his death. 

Spike took an unsteady step towards the Captain. "I don't want to kill you, but you're really annoying me."

"Normally they stop being mouthy once you shoot 'em." Jayne remarked.

Mal shot twice more. One struck Spike's temple. River screamed, and collapsed alongside him.

 Simon ran to comfort her, examining her heavily bleeding hand. But her hand was fine compared to the pain boring out of the man's skull.

"Gorram it, Mal, he ain't dead," Jayne said, nudging Spike with his combat boot.

*

The crew stood in the cargo bay, facing the closed airlock, where Jayne had tied Spike to a chair. 

"Rope?" Spike said. "Well, this brings back memories."

"Good, you're awake," Mal said. He approached the airlock window. "Here's how this works. I'm going to ask you some questions, and if I don't like the answer, I'm going to open the airlock. Let's start with why the hell you aren't dead. The doc here says you don't have a pulse."

"That's confidential, between me and my doctor."

"See, I don't like that answer." Mal pressed the large, circular button.

*Warning: Airlock override. Purging airlock in 30 seconds*

Sirens and lights flashed from inside the airlock.

"Wait, no! Please!" he shouted.

 He was petrified. River probed deeper, curious. The vacuum of space is not immediately lethal to vampires. First, the lack of pressure tears and expands the body's tissues. The body never acclimatizes to the void; it is jointly boiled and frozen, as diffused light from distant stars slowly chars a vampire's flesh.  A vampire heals just fast enough to retain consciousness of every awful sensation.

"You shoot a man in the chest enough times, his heart stops." Mal said. "That makes you something else."

*Purging airlock in 15 seconds.*

"It's bloody vestibular marcarnus. Don't eject me!"

Simon's head raised. "Vestibular marcarnus is a real thing, Captain. They only documented a few cases in the 2300s. It's called the undying disorder."

Mal cancelled the airlock purge. The sirens and flashing lights stopped.

"Next question," Mal continued. "What were you doing onboard that ship, with those 喝畜生雜交的髒貨?"

"I was hitching a ride. More of a stowaway than a guest, but it went South. I'm headed to Marrow. They're having problems with things going bump in the night. I hit those things back."

"You're a bounty hunter, then?"

"Of sorts."

Mal approached the glass. "And is that you wanted out of us too? Free shipping?"

Spike shrugged. "This was my best option, mate. You would have shot me on the Mayflower and left me for dead if we'd met there, and you know it. There's people on Marrow who'd vouch for me, pay you even, for my safe passage."

"Maybe we should try ejecting him again." Jayne said.

"Don't. Burn me if you have too, but don't let me go out the airlock. A man should get to choose how he gets to die."

 "Did you ask any of the Mayflower's crew, before you tore their throats out?" Mal asked.

"If you've been on their ship, you know the trade they were in." Spike said. "If anything, I did the world a favor."

"Why was the ship was off?" Wash asked. "It's in perfect condition."

A bunch of Scoobies, just my luck. He spoke louder: "It was off, because the crew was trying to avoid an Alliance patrol. Then, they had the misfortune of finding me."

 "Why didn't you turn it back on then, dummy?" Wash asked.

Kaylee pitched in. "He sounds more like a horse and carriage guy than a spaceship guy to me."

"Is that it?" Mal asked Spike. "You killed the crew, and don't even have the skills to restart a spaceship? The lack of oxygen and heat should have killed you days ago."

"Vestibular marcarnus patients don't require that, Mal." Simon said.

"Explain that to me better, doc."

"It's a medical term for what could be explained as, well, vampirism, on Earth-That-Was."

Mal paused. He sighed. "I'm not stupid enough to kill the pilot in your situation. But I can understand wanting to lie low afterwards." He knocked on the airlock door. "Who's your contact on Marrow?"

"Arlene Watcher, she lives in Tulser-Ecct."

"Wash," Mal said. "See if you can't get in touch with an Arlene Watcher from Tulser-Ecct. We have a delivery for her, if she wants to sign for it."

"Thank you," Spike said, as he sagged back against the chair.

The waves of relief soothed River.