Fic: "Five Times Kaylee Smiled" (Firefly; Fluffython fic)
Written for rinalin, who wanted Jayne/Kaylee off the lyrics of "Vindicated," by Dashboard Confessional. I hope this works for you. :)
So turn
up the corners of your lips
Part them and feel my fingertips
Trace the moment, fall forever
~ “Vindicated,” Dashboard Confessional
1.
The first time he sees her, she’s wearing those beat-up old coveralls, and there’s grease on her face and up under her fingernails. She’s the prettiest thing he can recall seeing in weeks, and she’s got a paper flower tucked up into her hair.
He puzzles over that while the captain rattles on about the ship and what he’ll be expected to do. He only has to half-listen to that stuff; it’s basically the same on any of the kinds of outfits he signs on with. He’s comfortable with this beat-up crew and ugly little Firefly.
But there’s that flower in the mechanic’s hair. No percentage to a bit of frippery like that. No reason she should have it. But it suits her, bright red against the smooth brown of her hair, pulled back tight and proper off her face.
She says hello and squeezes his hand, and her face lights up in a smile as bright as the paper.
2.
Everybody’s got to take a turn cooking. That’s the rule on Serenity. And Jayne doesn’t really mind. It’s not all that hard to open a few cans and heat up chunks of protein. Nobody’s expectations are too high, anyway; can’t be after spending any time traveling with Mal, who could probably manage to burn water.
When Kaylee cooks, she tries to add a little something extra to the meal, to soften the edges and make it nicer. Course it’s a waste of time and energy in the cold hard tally, but shiny in the moment. He doesn’t have a clue how she goes about it, and he doesn’t dare try anything extra when it’s his turn to cook.
He puts a little extra on her plate, though, when he gets the chance. She smiles at him across the table and thanks him in her cheerful way. It’s a nice little thing, like those flowers she painted up on the walls.
3.
Once they’re clear of the Reavers, he takes her right back down to the infirmary again and puts her into bed. The doctor fusses around her for a few minutes, gives her a shot for the pain, and she settles back against the pillow. She’s sleepy, and that’s good. She oughta sleep; she’s been shot, and Jayne’s had enough bullets put in him over the years to know how bad they can burn. Kaylee shouldn’t have to deal with that. She should be able to just sleep right through until she’s all healed up and ready to go back to work, singing away at Serenity down in the engine room.
“Jayne,” she mumbles, stretching her hand out at him and still smiling. It’s sweet as a little kid’s through the haze of pain-meds. “Good job taking care of my girl.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he nods and hurries out. She needs her rest, after all.
4.
He’s helping her down in the engine room one day, trying to make the rebuilt parts of Serenity talk to the old ones the way they should, when she starts to cry. “Sorry,” she says, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just down here was the first place that me and Simon...”
Jayne leans back against the wall and waits for her to get a grip on herself. It takes a minute, but then she laughs a little--strained and watery, but laughing. “I really thought that he...well, that didn’t last too long, did it?”
He doesn’t know what to say to her, but it’s not right, Kaylee standing there with wet eyes, biting her lip and trying not to cry again. He reaches out and brushes his fingers across her lips, gently pushing them up at the corners. It don’t make no sense, and he knows it, but after a minute she blinks and laughs, starting to smile.
5.
On mornings when there’s time, he kisses her awake, starting down around her collarbone and moving up her neck to her face. He kisses her cheeks, her forehead, her hair, avoiding her mouth until she laughs helplessly and seizes his face between her hands.
“You stop playing around and kiss me,” she says. She’s trying to sound fierce, but her smile undercuts it. He obediently covers her mouth with his, and he can feel her lips still curved up as she kisses back. He breaks away and moves down to her neck again, but cups her face with one hand, rubbing his thumb across her smile.
Kaylee smiling is a patch of light in the black, a splash of color in Serenity’s gray, a piece of joy in a life of run and rob and kill. It’s not frippery like he thought, not fragile or useless: it’s the strongest thing he knows and he thanks God that it still shines.
So turn
up the corners of your lips
Part them and feel my fingertips
Trace the moment, fall forever
~ “Vindicated,” Dashboard Confessional
1.
The first time he sees her, she’s wearing those beat-up old coveralls, and there’s grease on her face and up under her fingernails. She’s the prettiest thing he can recall seeing in weeks, and she’s got a paper flower tucked up into her hair.
He puzzles over that while the captain rattles on about the ship and what he’ll be expected to do. He only has to half-listen to that stuff; it’s basically the same on any of the kinds of outfits he signs on with. He’s comfortable with this beat-up crew and ugly little Firefly.
But there’s that flower in the mechanic’s hair. No percentage to a bit of frippery like that. No reason she should have it. But it suits her, bright red against the smooth brown of her hair, pulled back tight and proper off her face.
She says hello and squeezes his hand, and her face lights up in a smile as bright as the paper.
2.
Everybody’s got to take a turn cooking. That’s the rule on Serenity. And Jayne doesn’t really mind. It’s not all that hard to open a few cans and heat up chunks of protein. Nobody’s expectations are too high, anyway; can’t be after spending any time traveling with Mal, who could probably manage to burn water.
When Kaylee cooks, she tries to add a little something extra to the meal, to soften the edges and make it nicer. Course it’s a waste of time and energy in the cold hard tally, but shiny in the moment. He doesn’t have a clue how she goes about it, and he doesn’t dare try anything extra when it’s his turn to cook.
He puts a little extra on her plate, though, when he gets the chance. She smiles at him across the table and thanks him in her cheerful way. It’s a nice little thing, like those flowers she painted up on the walls.
3.
Once they’re clear of the Reavers, he takes her right back down to the infirmary again and puts her into bed. The doctor fusses around her for a few minutes, gives her a shot for the pain, and she settles back against the pillow. She’s sleepy, and that’s good. She oughta sleep; she’s been shot, and Jayne’s had enough bullets put in him over the years to know how bad they can burn. Kaylee shouldn’t have to deal with that. She should be able to just sleep right through until she’s all healed up and ready to go back to work, singing away at Serenity down in the engine room.
“Jayne,” she mumbles, stretching her hand out at him and still smiling. It’s sweet as a little kid’s through the haze of pain-meds. “Good job taking care of my girl.”
He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he nods and hurries out. She needs her rest, after all.
4.
He’s helping her down in the engine room one day, trying to make the rebuilt parts of Serenity talk to the old ones the way they should, when she starts to cry. “Sorry,” she says, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just down here was the first place that me and Simon...”
Jayne leans back against the wall and waits for her to get a grip on herself. It takes a minute, but then she laughs a little--strained and watery, but laughing. “I really thought that he...well, that didn’t last too long, did it?”
He doesn’t know what to say to her, but it’s not right, Kaylee standing there with wet eyes, biting her lip and trying not to cry again. He reaches out and brushes his fingers across her lips, gently pushing them up at the corners. It don’t make no sense, and he knows it, but after a minute she blinks and laughs, starting to smile.
5.
On mornings when there’s time, he kisses her awake, starting down around her collarbone and moving up her neck to her face. He kisses her cheeks, her forehead, her hair, avoiding her mouth until she laughs helplessly and seizes his face between her hands.
“You stop playing around and kiss me,” she says. She’s trying to sound fierce, but her smile undercuts it. He obediently covers her mouth with his, and he can feel her lips still curved up as she kisses back. He breaks away and moves down to her neck again, but cups her face with one hand, rubbing his thumb across her smile.
Kaylee smiling is a patch of light in the black, a splash of color in Serenity’s gray, a piece of joy in a life of run and rob and kill. It’s not frippery like he thought, not fragile or useless: it’s the strongest thing he knows and he thanks God that it still shines.