Fic: Beyond the Stars (Firefly AU, PG)
Title: Beyond the Stars
Author: sheryden
Fandoms: Firefly
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mal/Inara, Wash/Zoe
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 832
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I'm just having fun with them.
Summary: Present Day AU. Mal Reynolds and his wife Inara are headed to a barbeque at the Washburne house. Mal is a little down, because he feels trapped by his suburban existence.
Author's Notes: This was written for au_bingo for the prompt "Other: Mundane."
Mal Reynolds sat in his den, putting the finishing touches on his Sopwith Camel model airplane. He’d been working on the thing for weeks, and he was finally ready to display it. A satisfied grin spreading over his features, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the finished product. It was a damn fine piece of craftsmanship, if he did say so himself.
“My husband and his toys.”
When he glanced up, he saw Inara lounging in the doorway. She was wearing a soft peach sundress and white sandals, and her purse was flung over her shoulder like she was planning to go out.
“This isn’t a toy,” Mal said fondly. “It’s a work of art.”
“It’s plastic and paint. And we have to be at the Washburnes in half an hour. You should change your shirt.”
He petted his threadbare Van Halen t-shirt. “What’s wrong with it? Is there a dress code at this particular barbecue? Come on, it’s Wash and Zoe.”
“Mal,” Inara sighed, cocking her head to one side.
Dutifully, Mal climbed the stairs and wrenched a pale yellow sports shirt out of the closet. He had far better things to do today than drag himself to another neighborhood mixer. It wasn’t that he disliked the Washburnes. He liked them quite fine, as a matter of fact. They were hisfriends, not Inara’s. But a man could only stand so much potato salad and meaningless chit chat.
Once he had changed, he and Inara walked a block over to the Washburne house. It looked pretty much like their own home, but Wash’s telltale “hippie van” in the driveway-the neighbors called it an eyesore-gave the place its own unique vibe.
They walked around the back of the house and found that the party was already well underway. Zoe was charging around the backyard, arranging chairs and making sure there was enough cold beer and soda in the coolers. She tended to handle social functions the way she handled everything else-like a soldier charging up a hill toward an enemy bunker. Mal considered it part of her charm.
After he spotted Wash over by the grill, Mal nodded to Inara and meandered over to hang out with him for a while. Wash was a little eccentric, but from where Mal was standing, that made him the best company at this shindig. “Hey,” he said as he approached.
Wash glanced up and grinned. His Hawaiian shirt was already stained with mustard and barbeque sauce, and his nose and cheeks were sunburned. “I see Inara dragged you away from your model.”
“As a matter of fact, I finished it,” he said with a triumphant grin. “One of my finest creations.”
“Well, why don’t you get yourself a victory beer out of the cooler?” Wash said. “And while you’re at it, get me one, too. I feel the need to celebrate with you.”
Mal retrieved a couple of beers, and handed one to Wash. He stood there for a while, while Wash flipped burgers and burnt hot dogs. Mal chatted with him on and off, but eventually, he went silent, and his gaze fell on Inara, who was surrounded by a little circle of people. She was chatting and laughing and patting neighbors on the arms-she called it networking.
After a while, Mal took a sip of his beer and turned to Wash. “You ever daydream?”
Wash glanced up and arched an eyebrow. “Mal, I play with plastic dinosaurs, and I have a Star Trek uniform hanging in my closet. I think it’s safe to say that yes, I daydream.”
Smiling slightly, Mal folded his arms across his chest. “You ever dream about being somewhere else?”
“I have a lovely wife, a class full of bright third graders, and a van that pisses off the neighbors. Where else would I want to be?”
Mal kicked at the ground. “I’m just being stupid.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m feeling a little smothered by suburbia is all. Sometimes, I wonder what else is out there.”
“You’re not thinking about having an affair, are you? Because I can’t lie to cover you. Zoe will know.”
Grimacing at Wash, Mal sat his beer bottle down on the grass next to his feet. “I’m not gonna have an affair,” he snapped.
“Well good.”
“Sometimes, I just wonder what it would be like to fly. To have a little freedom, you know? To wear an old Van Halen t-shirt.” Mal let out a breath. “Instead, I just sit in my den and make models of things I’ll never be able to touch.”
After a moment, an uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Mal regretted opening his mouth. Standing up straight and flashing a fake smile, he said, “Ah, never mind. I’m just cranky today. I’m gonna grab us a couple more beers.” Before Wash had a chance to argue, Mal walked toward the cooler.
Eyes skyward as he walked, he dreamed of a world beyond the stars.
Author: sheryden
Fandoms: Firefly
Rating: PG
Pairing: Mal/Inara, Wash/Zoe
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 832
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me. I'm just having fun with them.
Summary: Present Day AU. Mal Reynolds and his wife Inara are headed to a barbeque at the Washburne house. Mal is a little down, because he feels trapped by his suburban existence.
Author's Notes: This was written for au_bingo for the prompt "Other: Mundane."
Mal Reynolds sat in his den, putting the finishing touches on his Sopwith Camel model airplane. He’d been working on the thing for weeks, and he was finally ready to display it. A satisfied grin spreading over his features, he leaned back in his chair and gazed at the finished product. It was a damn fine piece of craftsmanship, if he did say so himself.
“My husband and his toys.”
When he glanced up, he saw Inara lounging in the doorway. She was wearing a soft peach sundress and white sandals, and her purse was flung over her shoulder like she was planning to go out.
“This isn’t a toy,” Mal said fondly. “It’s a work of art.”
“It’s plastic and paint. And we have to be at the Washburnes in half an hour. You should change your shirt.”
He petted his threadbare Van Halen t-shirt. “What’s wrong with it? Is there a dress code at this particular barbecue? Come on, it’s Wash and Zoe.”
“Mal,” Inara sighed, cocking her head to one side.
Dutifully, Mal climbed the stairs and wrenched a pale yellow sports shirt out of the closet. He had far better things to do today than drag himself to another neighborhood mixer. It wasn’t that he disliked the Washburnes. He liked them quite fine, as a matter of fact. They were hisfriends, not Inara’s. But a man could only stand so much potato salad and meaningless chit chat.
Once he had changed, he and Inara walked a block over to the Washburne house. It looked pretty much like their own home, but Wash’s telltale “hippie van” in the driveway-the neighbors called it an eyesore-gave the place its own unique vibe.
They walked around the back of the house and found that the party was already well underway. Zoe was charging around the backyard, arranging chairs and making sure there was enough cold beer and soda in the coolers. She tended to handle social functions the way she handled everything else-like a soldier charging up a hill toward an enemy bunker. Mal considered it part of her charm.
After he spotted Wash over by the grill, Mal nodded to Inara and meandered over to hang out with him for a while. Wash was a little eccentric, but from where Mal was standing, that made him the best company at this shindig. “Hey,” he said as he approached.
Wash glanced up and grinned. His Hawaiian shirt was already stained with mustard and barbeque sauce, and his nose and cheeks were sunburned. “I see Inara dragged you away from your model.”
“As a matter of fact, I finished it,” he said with a triumphant grin. “One of my finest creations.”
“Well, why don’t you get yourself a victory beer out of the cooler?” Wash said. “And while you’re at it, get me one, too. I feel the need to celebrate with you.”
Mal retrieved a couple of beers, and handed one to Wash. He stood there for a while, while Wash flipped burgers and burnt hot dogs. Mal chatted with him on and off, but eventually, he went silent, and his gaze fell on Inara, who was surrounded by a little circle of people. She was chatting and laughing and patting neighbors on the arms-she called it networking.
After a while, Mal took a sip of his beer and turned to Wash. “You ever daydream?”
Wash glanced up and arched an eyebrow. “Mal, I play with plastic dinosaurs, and I have a Star Trek uniform hanging in my closet. I think it’s safe to say that yes, I daydream.”
Smiling slightly, Mal folded his arms across his chest. “You ever dream about being somewhere else?”
“I have a lovely wife, a class full of bright third graders, and a van that pisses off the neighbors. Where else would I want to be?”
Mal kicked at the ground. “I’m just being stupid.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m feeling a little smothered by suburbia is all. Sometimes, I wonder what else is out there.”
“You’re not thinking about having an affair, are you? Because I can’t lie to cover you. Zoe will know.”
Grimacing at Wash, Mal sat his beer bottle down on the grass next to his feet. “I’m not gonna have an affair,” he snapped.
“Well good.”
“Sometimes, I just wonder what it would be like to fly. To have a little freedom, you know? To wear an old Van Halen t-shirt.” Mal let out a breath. “Instead, I just sit in my den and make models of things I’ll never be able to touch.”
After a moment, an uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Mal regretted opening his mouth. Standing up straight and flashing a fake smile, he said, “Ah, never mind. I’m just cranky today. I’m gonna grab us a couple more beers.” Before Wash had a chance to argue, Mal walked toward the cooler.
Eyes skyward as he walked, he dreamed of a world beyond the stars.