Above the Thunder
Title: Above the Thunder
Pairing: Mal/River
Words: 522
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters or source material; I’m not making any money from this.
Notes: Consensual underage sex; spoilers for the BDM.
Summary: In which River flies better under certain circumstances.
River’s a good pilot now. Not as good as she is at organic chemistry or dancing, but she flies well enough. She’ll never be as skilled as Wash, of course--cautious takeoffs and the occasional sharp drop to his smooth turns and graceful maneuvers. It takes her longer to sense out Serenity’s hums and quirks, like why the yoke sometimes sticks.
Better than Mal, though, but she mostly sits in the co-pilot’s chair, running her fingers across the console and staring at those gorram dinosaurs.
“He’s still here,” she says wistfully. “He hasn’t left, and she knows. She doesn’t like me flying. She doesn’t like you flying her either, but she knows you. Trusts you.”
“That’s cr--” Mal stops; thinks. “She likes you fine, darlin’.” He rubs his eyes. “You mind taking over for a bit? I’m getting a little tired...” And then he proceeds to nod off, head lolling to one side.
--
Mal wakes, and the girl’s starin’ at him, but keeping course. The low light and stars put a shadow on her face; a strip of paleness going down one already-pale cheek.
Out of the blue: “Everyone has scars.” Easing up her grip a bit, and some color returns to her knuckles. “Everything has scars. Serenity has them, but you can’t see. Kaylee fixed them. She can fix almost anything.” Then, her voice taking a more somber tone, “Simon tried to fix me...tried to heal me, but he can’t. No one can.”
And Mal gets uncomfortable. Comfortin’ ain’t exactly one of his strong suits. And River--well. She’s somewhere between a girl and a woman, and he ain’t the best at knowin’ how to treat neither of ‘em. “...I--”
“It’s okay.” Setting the ship to autopilot and walking over to Mal--clomp-clomp of light feet in heavy boots. “You have scars too. Like mine, but not like mine. Simon sewed you up, made you whole. They’ll fade.” Reaching out and just barely running her fingers over the mark on his right side.
Mal smoothes a hand over her hair. “So will yours.”
--
Simon still worries about River flying (but he’d worry even if she wasn’t).
“She could crash and get killed!”
“She’s as good a pilot as anyone we can’t afford to pay. She’s doin’ fine. ‘Sides, if she does crash, she’ll likely kill me too.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring.”
“Sure is. Can’t tell you much else, though--she’ll keep us in the air. The rest is over your head.” Smirking to himself as he walks away. The doc probably wouldn’t be reassured much (or at all) if he knew that his sister could fly the ship with the captain’s face buried between her thighs.
It’s not like he’d do that if he had any reason to doubt she could still fly--after all, she’s got the life of his crew in her hands, and oftentimes, the cargo. No, Mal wouldn’t risk it. There’s always autopilot if he thinks he’s got a reason to need it, but the girl practically is autopilot.
Come to think of it, maybe she flies better with Mal’s tongue up inside her.