Nope - just PotC in general, with a dash of Tam Lin.

Glad it's working for you!

Final bit:

* * *

River has been rocking herself gently all this while in the hammock, and in the pause that follows she begins to sing. "And pleasant is the fairy land, But, an eerie tale to tell, Ay at the end of seven years, We pay a tiend to hell.”

“Nope, that's not creepifying,” says Jayne.

“I was back just barely in the nick of time. That very night, when the moon was at the full, the Lords and Ladies were coming to claim her. My father confessed the whole of it to me, and told me all the ways in which I was culpable. How I had benefited from his, his 'sound business acumen'. How I could never have continued so long with my studies overseas, without the profit that River's sacrifice had brought him.” Tam swallows. “They were coming for her at the full of the moon, and this time they would carry her off to Hell, and the debt would be repaid. She was only a daughter, after all, and not biddable or beautiful enough to catch a rich man's eye. This was the best use she could make of her life, he said.”

“That's quite the display of paternal instincts,” says Mal, and Tam gives a bitter little laugh.

“Isn't it? My father, the humanitarian. Well, that night we were all to attend a feast at the Governor's house. All but River. I went along with them, played the dutiful son, but as the evening progressed I waited for my chance, and then I made good my escape. I was back at Carterhaugh before the sun had set, and I found River in her room, singing to herself, and brushing out her hair.” He swallows. “I bade her stay there, and not leave her room on any account, and I locked and bolted the door. I thought nothing could get past me.” He shakes his head. “I had no idea what I was dealing with.”

“What came?” asks Jayne, fascinated in spite of himself.

“Oh, nothing came. Nothing needed to come. She stepped out of the window and walked barefoot upon a beam of moonlight like it was a bridge of mother-of-pearl.”

“That sounds real pretty,” says Master Frye, wide-eyed and wistful.

“It was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. My heart was in my mouth when I saw her there, walking on – on nothing, like some creature from a nursery tale. She looked like she was already one of them. I ran out of the house and I followed her, shouting her name, pleading with her – but she never looked down. I followed her through the forest, and at last she alighted in a clearing, with a pool of water and strange carvings the like of which I'd never seen before. And – and they were there.” His eyes go wide, and for a long moment the Doctor just stares, clearly lost in a memory.

“They?” prompts the Boatswain, and Tam blinks.

“The Lords and Ladies of Fairy. They were – they – there are no words for what they were. And they were calling to River, beckoning her as a man might summon his hound.” Tam's eyes narrow. “But I seized hold of her, wrapped my arms tight around her waist, and I would not let her go, come what may. Not if it meant they took me with her into Hell. I had deserted her once already. I would not do it again.”

“Aaaw, bless your heart!” exclaims Master Frye, dabbing at his eyes. “And what happened next?”

“She turned into a tiger, and tried to rip my throat out,” says Tam, with a rueful little smile. Master Frye gasps. “And then into a serpent, and then a huge dog, and then some kind of lizard – an alligator, I think. And then a lion, and a cloud of wasps, and a different kind of serpent. It was – it was quite the most astonishing, terrible, impossible experience. It went against everything I knew about the world. But it was happening, and so I had to accept it. And I held on, through every transformation, until at last she became a burning coal that sizzled in my hands. And then I dropped her into the pool that shone bright as silver in the moonlight, and she was my sister once again, and free.”

He turns to look again at River, and Master Frye bursts into a spontaneous round of applause. “Oh, well done! Didn't he do well, Cap'n? Oh, he saved her!”

“So he says,” (continued...)

( continues...) agrees Mal, although he's inclined to believe the story, impossible thought it sounds. He's seen a number of impossible things since sailing these waters, and this would not be the strangest of them. And – she knew about the kraken. There's something uncanny about her, and no mistake. “So then what, Doctor Tam?”

“The Lady...” he swallows. “One of the Ladies came to us, and I thought she was going to take River then and there. But instead she gave me the compass. Said that I'd earned it, and that they would be taking someone else for the tithe.” He bites his lip. “I think – I'm fairly sure she meant my father, but I didn't stay to find out. I packed as quickly as I could, and I took all the gold and coin and plate I could find.” He sticks his chin out. “It's River's. She earned it, not my father. And then we came here. Because River – River still is not well. And my heart's desire is to find someone who can bring her back to what she was – or as close as may be. Someone who can help me fix her. And I believe that there is someone out here who can do it – I've heard stories, when I was younger, but I never gave them credit. A witch, living in the swamps somewhere – Tia Dalma, I think her name is?”

Mal shudders. “That's – that's not a wise name to speak out loud, when you're at sea,” he says, with a wince. The Doctor blinks.

“Well – I think she can help me. And so that's my story, in full. This is my sister, and she is – not well. Not quite right. And where we're going – well, we're going to find her a cure.”

Mal studies the young Doctor for a long moment in silence. “So would I be correct in thinking that all your fine words about “half now, half afterwards” were just so much faradiddle to talk me into setting sail with you and your suspiciously large trunk?”

Tam hangs his head. “Well – well, yes, in fact. Yes. But it's still a very respectable sum, and all of it's yours, if you'll just take us where the compass leads.”

“And all of it would still be mine if I just tossed you both overboard right now,” counters Mal.

“Cap'n! He's just joshing with you, Doctor! He wouldn't do something so downright mean and ornery. Would you, Cap'n?”

“Master Frye, your opinion of my generosity of spirit is flattering, but I'm afraid I don't merit such a high estimation. I'd toss him to the sharks in an instant if I thought he posed a threat to my ship or her crew.”

“Oh,” says Master Frye. “But – he don't! Do you, Doctor?”

Tam looks over at River, and then back at Mal. “It isn't my intention to bring any trouble down on your head, Captain,” he says, uncertainly.

“Ah, but there's a gap between intention and results, isn't there, my friend?” Mal fixes his gaze upon the young Doctor, as if he hopes to somehow plumb the depths of his soul. “You want to take us into deep waters, unknown waters, and you want to take us to tangle with Tia Dalma. That, Dr Tam, is trouble with a capital T.”

“Oh,” says the Doctor, looking suddenly very young. “I – I see. I hadn't really thought of that.”

“Indeed.” Mal shakes his head. “Jayne, throw him overboard.”

“Captain!”

“Cap'n', don't joke like that!”

“Cap'n, I'm sure you didn't mean...”

“Now, just a minute, can we talk about this before we start murdering people for no good reason?”

”No!” yells Mal, over the clamour of voices in the little cabin. “This is not a democracy!”

“Actually, Cap'n, it kind of is,” points out Master Frye, sounding apologetic but quite firm. “We voted for you, same as we voted for Zoe here. Democratic-like.”

“Well, yes, that's true, but – look, Zoe agrees with me, don't you?”

“Not sure that I do, Cap'n,” says Zoe, and the Sailing Master gives her hand a squeeze.

“Seems to me we could use a Ship's Doctor, and if little River here is as clever as he says, she might be useful to have aboard. You are looking for a new First Mate.”

“Oh, don't even – what is this, a rebellion? A mutiny? Are you mutinying on me, Master Frye?”

“No, Cap'n. 'Course not. I'm just refusing to do what you say.”

“Mister (continued...)

( continues...) Book?”

The Boatswain rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I think he seems like a brave, if somewhat foolhardy, young man. And he certainly has skills that would be most useful on board 'Serenity'. I think we should take a vote on it.”

“Jayne?”

“Oh, I'm with you, Cap'n. Let's throw him to the sharks. Seems a pity to waste the girl, though.”

“...somehow that was less reassuring than it might have been, Jayne. I find myself suddenly not wanting to be on my own side.” Mal draws a breath, and looks at the members of his crew arrayed in the cabin. “We could open this up to the Able Seamen, and take a vote, or I could just agree that you're all a bunch of feckless, romantic idiots with the self-preservation instincts of a day-old chick.” He sighs, and turns to Dr Tam. “Welcome aboard, Doctor. Miss Tam. Since it seems you don't have the currency you promised me when we set off on this voyage, perhaps we can agree that you can make the rest of your payment in work?”

Tam eyes Jayne with suspicion. “River is not – she is a respectable young woman,” he says.

“Am not,” says River, from her position in the hammock. She's still clad in just her bloomers and one of Simon's shirts.

“See?” says Jayne, hopefully, and Zoe slaps him without looking up.

“Well, leaving aside the question of respectability – which I've come to see is a highly over-rated quality – does she not have some skills? You stood here telling us she was the cleverest, shiniest little jewel of girlhood ever to walk the face of the earth, with her sums and her languages and her duelling. Can she swab a deck?”

River flips herself over and out of the hammock with one startlingly graceful move, and stands in the middle of the room, smiling a very disconcerting little smile. “I can outfight every man and woman aboard this vessel, and I can navigate without need of a map or a compass, so long as I can see the sky,” she says, her voice clear and precise. “I know what lurks beneath the surface of the ocean, and what lies behind men's eyes, and I can scramble up to the crow's nest faster than any rigger on board. I can run, and dance, and swim, and I know all the Prime Numbers, and the names of all the stars in the sky – their true names, not the made-up ones. I know dead languages and living languages and the languages of beasts and fish. Sometimes I can walk on air.” She cocks her head thoughtfully, and adds: “But I can't cook. Cooking is not one of my skills.”

“Well, sounds like you're still in a job, at any rate, Mister Book,” murmurs Zoe.

“Aw, c'mon, Cap'n. Can we keep 'em?” begs Master Frye.

“We're keeping them, Master Frye. I make no doubt we'll come to regret it in the fullness of time, but – looks like we're keeping 'em,” says Mal, shaking his head at his own folly.

More, please? ::puppy eyes::

Oh, bless you! I'm glad you liked it - but that's where I'm drawing to a close. (I mean, I could send them off to find Tia Dalma, and we could see River get kind of cured of some of her crazy, and the compass handed over to Tia Dalma in return - but I'm going to end it with the gang all assembled. 'Cause there are 25 squares on my bingo card. And although technically I could just write 25 little 500 word pieces...somehow it isn't working out quite like that.

sighs

Oh, Fay, that was lovely! It blended the two worlds quite nicely and with that little bit of Tam Lin thrown in, it quite gave me the chills when you described Simon holding on to River through all those changes. Well done! And while I wouldn't mind more, I do think that you've drawn it to a very satisfying conclusion.

Just a bit of e-mail to break up all the phone call bits
snarkydoc@ppth.com

Mom, no fair. Make Foreman stop touching me...when are you coming back? I don't get to do *any* fun procedures anymore.

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com

I don't know; how's it really going?

snarkydoc@ppth.com

Saved 2 out of 3, but I think you and I might have saved the third too. Have some guilt to go with your Hollywood nookie, Cuddy.

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com

Who says nookie anymore, and I thought you said guilt was useless.

snarkydoc@ppth.com

It is...unless...is it working? How is the himbo anyway? Any more infections for you to clear up?

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com
Honestly, House...sigh. People die when I'm right there, too.:(

And don't say those things about Vince. He's much deeper than he looks.

Snarkydoc@ppth.com

Wouldn't he have to be? And his creative mind must be responsible for the bitchin' new e-mail address.

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com
Couldn't keep using "Partypants" could I?

snarkydoc@ppth.com
It seemed funny at the time. Oh, and Queens Boulevard sucked.

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com
I loved it...

snarkydoc@ppth.com
Loved *it* or loved *him*

Lisa_cuddy@yahoo.com

Can I get back to you on that? And how can you still be asking me things that give me a headache from this far away?

snarkydoc@ppth

I keep telling you, I'm that good, Cuddy.

Yay!

Fay, you're an alchemist beyond compare. How you manage to get dialogue that would be at home in Hornblower or Temeraire as well as PotC still sound like it came from the mouths of the Serenity crew we know... It's a wonder. And I want more--much more!--of this tale. How does a year's worth sound to you? Could you spin us tales over a year's time? We'll pay you in...um, porn, of your choice? Pretty pretty pictures of pretty pretty people? Pretty words about lovely lads and lasses practicing lascivious deeds? Sweets? Chocolate? Name your price, dear. Just give us more of this 'verse, please.