angels in the architecture, lee/simon (bsg/firefly), r
title: angels in the architecture
pairing, fandoms, rating: lee adama/simon tam, bsg/firefly, r
notes, wordcount written for the bsg_slashathon, 870? give or take?
After Lee leaves Galactica, little things are hard to get used to: introducing himself as only Lee, instead of Captain Adama or Apollo, being away from his friends, his family, sleeping in a bed not his own, taking a shuttle to a junker of a transport bird when he busts up his knee instead of simply heading down to sick bay.
The so-called public relations representative of the outfit, a man named Jayne, leads him to their infirmary, speaking mostly in grunts and growls. The name Adama carries a measure of prestige, but it also comes with a heavy stigma, one he knows he’s unlikely to shed. (You can’t make everyone happy, but you can make them safe, his father would say.) He gets the impression that Jayne would just as soon turn him away, but Lee is a paying customer and they can’t afford to say no.
The dark-haired doctor introduces himself as Simon and shakes Lee’s hand before he sets to work, a serious expression on his face, and kindness in his voice.
Lee stops himself from asking any questions about where they get their supplies. Galactica learned a long time ago to stay out of off-the-record trading, and he isn’t about to pick up where they left off. Instead he concentrates on the feel of Simon’s painkiller’s kicking in, the ancient x-ray machine that Simon fiddles with to get the correct angle, and the not-so-gentle hum of the ship's slide through space.
-
When he wakes, he’s on the couch outside the infirmary and he can see his knee is wrapped.
Simon comes in moments later with a bottle of water and sits in the chair beside him, placing the water in front of him on the table. “Those pills knocked you right out, Captain. I had Jayne move you in here,” he says. “I had other patients to see. You understand?”
“Not Captain anymore,” Lee says, sitting up, “I’m a civilian now.”
Simon nods. “So, when was the last time you slept?”
“That obvious?”
“It’s past dinner.” Simon points to Lee’s watch, and Lee checks the time. Simon continues. “But we waited for you. The captain wants you to join us, he’s got a notion that we could use a man like you around.”
Lee shakes his head, ready to protest, but Simon stops him.
“He won’t take no for an answer, trust me, at least not for the meal.”
Lee nods and pushes himself up. If there’s one thing he understands, it’s stubborn. Being around Kara so long, not to mention his father, he’s had to become very familiar with it. “Where do we eat?”
-
The beds on Serenity are soft and take some getting used to, but Lee adapts. He always adapts. It’s what he does. He doesn’t know how he ended up working under a man like Malcolm Reynolds, but at least he feels like he’s doing something worthwhile. Of course, his father would never understand, but he stopped needing that a long time ago.
Wash, Serenity’s quirky, talented pilot, tells Lee grand stories of how they used to be outlaws, and how they came to be mediators and negotiators, helping people get what they need when they need it, providing medical attention to the ones who can’t wait to get it through the official channels, and occasionally the ones who can pay, like him.
Lee sees the way Mal runs his crew, learns to respect the man. Some nights they go without. "When they eat, we eat," Mal will say. "We're strong. We're healthy. And missing a meal now and again ain't gonna kill us." And that's that.
And Simon? Simon is something else. Lee watches him with his sister, River. How gentle and caring he is with her. How he’s completely unlike anyone he’s ever known, good and honest and absolutely uncomplicated.
He asks him once why he never signed up. Galactica could use another good doctor, he tells Simon. But he knows the answer before Simon can give it, his eyes casting a wayward glance at his sister before he does so. “It’s complicated,” he says. “And why'd you leave?”
Lee smiles, lowers his head. “It’s complicated.”
-
Lee finds himself one night in Simon’s room. First there’s talking, and then there’s touching and then there’s more. And for the first time since Galactica he feels like he’s really going to be okay. Simon’s skin is warm and smooth under his fingers, his muscle taught, and his hips feel perfect in Lee's hands when he presses into the doctor. Simon moans as he opens up, reaches around to grab for any part of Lee he can reach, losing all of the composure Lee witnesses at the infirmary every day.
After, Simon tells Lee stories that his father told him, stories about a pilgrimage from Earth, about his fears that if they ever do get there, it will be their certain death.
Lee kisses him, smoothes a hand through his hair, and slips his hand between the sheets.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll worry tomorrow.”
Simon’s mouth comes open in a silent moan when Lee wraps his fingers around him, and at that moment, tomorrow is as distant as fabled earth.
pairing, fandoms, rating: lee adama/simon tam, bsg/firefly, r
notes, wordcount written for the bsg_slashathon, 870? give or take?
After Lee leaves Galactica, little things are hard to get used to: introducing himself as only Lee, instead of Captain Adama or Apollo, being away from his friends, his family, sleeping in a bed not his own, taking a shuttle to a junker of a transport bird when he busts up his knee instead of simply heading down to sick bay.
The so-called public relations representative of the outfit, a man named Jayne, leads him to their infirmary, speaking mostly in grunts and growls. The name Adama carries a measure of prestige, but it also comes with a heavy stigma, one he knows he’s unlikely to shed. (You can’t make everyone happy, but you can make them safe, his father would say.) He gets the impression that Jayne would just as soon turn him away, but Lee is a paying customer and they can’t afford to say no.
The dark-haired doctor introduces himself as Simon and shakes Lee’s hand before he sets to work, a serious expression on his face, and kindness in his voice.
Lee stops himself from asking any questions about where they get their supplies. Galactica learned a long time ago to stay out of off-the-record trading, and he isn’t about to pick up where they left off. Instead he concentrates on the feel of Simon’s painkiller’s kicking in, the ancient x-ray machine that Simon fiddles with to get the correct angle, and the not-so-gentle hum of the ship's slide through space.
-
When he wakes, he’s on the couch outside the infirmary and he can see his knee is wrapped.
Simon comes in moments later with a bottle of water and sits in the chair beside him, placing the water in front of him on the table. “Those pills knocked you right out, Captain. I had Jayne move you in here,” he says. “I had other patients to see. You understand?”
“Not Captain anymore,” Lee says, sitting up, “I’m a civilian now.”
Simon nods. “So, when was the last time you slept?”
“That obvious?”
“It’s past dinner.” Simon points to Lee’s watch, and Lee checks the time. Simon continues. “But we waited for you. The captain wants you to join us, he’s got a notion that we could use a man like you around.”
Lee shakes his head, ready to protest, but Simon stops him.
“He won’t take no for an answer, trust me, at least not for the meal.”
Lee nods and pushes himself up. If there’s one thing he understands, it’s stubborn. Being around Kara so long, not to mention his father, he’s had to become very familiar with it. “Where do we eat?”
-
The beds on Serenity are soft and take some getting used to, but Lee adapts. He always adapts. It’s what he does. He doesn’t know how he ended up working under a man like Malcolm Reynolds, but at least he feels like he’s doing something worthwhile. Of course, his father would never understand, but he stopped needing that a long time ago.
Wash, Serenity’s quirky, talented pilot, tells Lee grand stories of how they used to be outlaws, and how they came to be mediators and negotiators, helping people get what they need when they need it, providing medical attention to the ones who can’t wait to get it through the official channels, and occasionally the ones who can pay, like him.
Lee sees the way Mal runs his crew, learns to respect the man. Some nights they go without. "When they eat, we eat," Mal will say. "We're strong. We're healthy. And missing a meal now and again ain't gonna kill us." And that's that.
And Simon? Simon is something else. Lee watches him with his sister, River. How gentle and caring he is with her. How he’s completely unlike anyone he’s ever known, good and honest and absolutely uncomplicated.
He asks him once why he never signed up. Galactica could use another good doctor, he tells Simon. But he knows the answer before Simon can give it, his eyes casting a wayward glance at his sister before he does so. “It’s complicated,” he says. “And why'd you leave?”
Lee smiles, lowers his head. “It’s complicated.”
-
Lee finds himself one night in Simon’s room. First there’s talking, and then there’s touching and then there’s more. And for the first time since Galactica he feels like he’s really going to be okay. Simon’s skin is warm and smooth under his fingers, his muscle taught, and his hips feel perfect in Lee's hands when he presses into the doctor. Simon moans as he opens up, reaches around to grab for any part of Lee he can reach, losing all of the composure Lee witnesses at the infirmary every day.
After, Simon tells Lee stories that his father told him, stories about a pilgrimage from Earth, about his fears that if they ever do get there, it will be their certain death.
Lee kisses him, smoothes a hand through his hair, and slips his hand between the sheets.
“Tomorrow,” he says. “We’ll worry tomorrow.”
Simon’s mouth comes open in a silent moan when Lee wraps his fingers around him, and at that moment, tomorrow is as distant as fabled earth.