fic: How Our Dreams Arrive
How Our Dreams Arrive
Firefly; Kaylee and River; pg; 200 words
Kaylee can't imagine it being a comforting place for someone scared.
Written for trialia for halfamoon, and for the occasion of her birthday.
~*~
Serenity's a beauty, that's for sure, but she needs a lot of work, and not just on the engine and nav system. After a job that goes as well as Mal could've hoped, Kaylee picks up some curtains-soft pastel colors-then spies these little pots of paint.
She hangs the curtains in everyone's bunks: blue for Wash and Zoe, buttercup for the captain (yellow's a happy color, and he could use more of that), an orange-sherbet for Jayne. In the kitchen, and on the cold metal surfaces, she loops thick strings of green around for vines, adding buds and flowers at their sides.
When River comes, she pads around barefoot, touching every inch of the ship. Kaylee notices her lingering when she sees color against the steely grays and blacks. The infirmary is cold and sterile; Kaylee can't imagine it being a comforting place for someone so young and scared. She don't think Simon would let her do anything to it, but when he's asleep, she hides pretty scraps of fabric in some of the drawers.
"Flowers didn't grow there," River says. Kaylee knows exactly what she means, feels a chill down her spine. "But they grow here."
Firefly; Kaylee and River; pg; 200 words
Kaylee can't imagine it being a comforting place for someone scared.
Written for trialia for halfamoon, and for the occasion of her birthday.
~*~
Serenity's a beauty, that's for sure, but she needs a lot of work, and not just on the engine and nav system. After a job that goes as well as Mal could've hoped, Kaylee picks up some curtains-soft pastel colors-then spies these little pots of paint.
She hangs the curtains in everyone's bunks: blue for Wash and Zoe, buttercup for the captain (yellow's a happy color, and he could use more of that), an orange-sherbet for Jayne. In the kitchen, and on the cold metal surfaces, she loops thick strings of green around for vines, adding buds and flowers at their sides.
When River comes, she pads around barefoot, touching every inch of the ship. Kaylee notices her lingering when she sees color against the steely grays and blacks. The infirmary is cold and sterile; Kaylee can't imagine it being a comforting place for someone so young and scared. She don't think Simon would let her do anything to it, but when he's asleep, she hides pretty scraps of fabric in some of the drawers.
"Flowers didn't grow there," River says. Kaylee knows exactly what she means, feels a chill down her spine. "But they grow here."