Songvidfic Meme
"Bridge Over Troubled Water"
When you're weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I'm on your side.
"I just... I saw a notice that the doctors want to collect medical information from everyone. I don't intend on giving them anything. They say it's voluntary, but I worry about someone getting ideas. Trying to take from those who don't think it's any of their business."
River knew that anyone who might trouble her would have to deal with her Captain at some point, and that knowledge was comforting. She just didn't really want to deal with it at all.
"Doctors? Collectin' medical information? What sort of fèihuà is that?" Tensin' up, his grip on her hand tightened.
"They can't make us do nothin' here, River. You got that?" He didn't have t' ask what she was thinkin' 'bout; it was plain on her face. "If'n they was t' try, they'd be in for a world o' trouble from the likes o' me. Dong ma? Ain't no reason they need such information, n' we ain't givin' it t' them."
If'n the real Simon'd come back soon, they'd have their own doctor anyway, though he couldn't say as much t' River. Though they don't talk 'bout it, Mal knows how much it hurts her that the island took her brother.
"Nothin's goin' t' happen t' you. All right?"
She clung to his hand, her anchor. "They're not getting anything from me," she said, her chin setting in the stubborn manner she had when there was no chance of her backing down.
"I know they can't. I'm not -" That wasn't true. "I'm trying not to be too worried. I just don't like the way things could go. Why I hate the idea of the council even if I still trust Jim and Leoben and Veronica." She couldn't help but be troubled.
"Nothing's going to happen," she repeated doubtfully. She wanted to believe him, but things had happened, and she doubted anything could stop whatever else might happen. Not even Mal, though she knew he would try.
"Things could go wrong e'en without a council, though 'm thinkin' there's more o' a chance for wrongness with folks tryin' to put rules n' such on folk that ain't inclined t' follow 'em." Thinkin' back t' the time Kaylee'd nominated Mal for the council, he shook his head. He'd had t' give a speech n' e'erythin', n' what he'd said then he still felt now: gov'ment was not somethin' he believed in, not somethin' he'd have a part in.
"Nothin's goin' t' happen as long as we do our best t' make sure it don't," Mal said firm-like. "I'll do my best 'til my last breath's left me."
River just nodded. She knew all that, but she didn't much want to think on Mal having to fight like that, for her or anything else, ever again. She petted her puppy and held on to her Captain and decided that she was going to be all right.
"I want to go home," she said softly. "Will you take me home?"
A beat, n' then Mal reached o'er, brushin' his fingers 'gainst the line o' her jaw. Noddin', he said, "Let's go home, darlin'."
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
"So it is," she agreed, unconsciously leaning against him. "Peaceful. It's good."
She was quiet herself for a bit, uncertain what to say now that she finally had him to talk to without anyone to overhear.
"People have been disappearing at an alarming rate," she said finally. "My friend Richard, who wanted to show me the dinosaurs? The island sent him away, and he's an awful lot like me. He'll be hunted by the law at home. Killed, likely. I've been very worried about him. About being sent away myself. Not as consumed by it as I was for a while, but still. Afraid."
She felt better somehow, having confessed what had been troubling her. She didn't want Simon or anyone worrying over her, but Mal was different. He should know.
He listens t' her words in silence, breath hitchin' a time'r two, though he don't notice it so much on 'ccount o' starin' at her real careful. Island's taken folk before. It took Wash once n' brought him back 'gain. It took Inara, though it ain't brought her back yet. So far it ain't took folk River was close t' 'til now, folk she was used t' havin' round, folk that ain't left her 'fore.
It ain't a good feelin'. Mal knows that much.
Reachin' a hand out, he takes hold o' River's. Though he feels a mite strange 'bout it, considerin', he don't pull his hand 'way.
"If'n he's like you, ain't nothin' goin' t' hold him down."
River held tightly to Mal's hand. It was hard to be really afraid when she was with him.
"He doesn't have anyone, though. I have you. And Simon and the rest of the crew. Even if I went back to the black, I wouldn't be alone. It might not be the you that's here now, the one who knows me like this, but it would still be you. I'd rather go back and have you than stay here without you. Not that we get a choice in the matter."
A shudder went through her at the thought of either thing happening, but she had mostly made her peace with her helplessness. She didn't like it, but she could live with what she had to.
The notion that the island could take River 'way ain't one that's truly crossed Mal's mind 'fore. Sure, in the back o' his brainpan he's known it's likely, but for some reason he ain't thought it could actually happen.
That ugly thought, that notion, it grips him tight. Makes things dark.
Mal don't like the dark unless it's the black.
"We ain't got no choice 'bout the island takin' us, but we do got a choice in tryin' t' find folk."
Growin' silent, he watches River for a time, thinkin' on what he'd do if'n the island'd take her.
Reachin' a hand t'ward her face, he says quiet-like, "I'd find you. 'r die tryin'."
When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
"You can always count on the stars. They keep hangin' up there, stayin' n' bein' so the likes o' us can depend on 'em. They give light n' direction, n' they ne'er lie. Folk can count on 'em."
He watches the 'xpression on her face for a time, glad t' see the trouble he'd sensed fade. Duckin' his fingers out from under her chin, he touches one brief-like t' her nose.
"Just like you can count on me, dong ma?"
When darkness comes
And pains is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
"n' I wouldn't leave y', nor would I be puttin' a bullet t' y' 'less I had t'." Thinkin' back t' the Reavers n' that boy tryin' t' get back on the mule, Mal jerked his head t'ward the screen. "If'n there were Reavers'r some such, n' I'd be 'xpectin' y' t' do the same for the likes o' me, dong ma?"
River nodded solemnly, tears rising to the corners of her eyes. She didn't like this subject at all, but it had to be discussed, and now was as good a time as any. "And if I...." She nodded toward the screen, where she was locked up in the pantry while her crew decided what to do with her. "If I get like that again, if I'm hurting people and you can't stop it any other way, you stop it any way you can."
She was turned sideways in her seat, clutching Mal's arm tighter than ever as she looked at him intently. "Promise me."
Mal couldn't stand t' be lookin' at River when she was like she was, but he didn't look 'way. 'stead, he reached out, thumbs brushin' on either side o' her eyes, catchin' tears that ain't yet let out. She was so gorram sincere, n' so gorram intent that there weren't any way t' disregard her n' her pleadin'. Not that he would e'er do that an'way.
"I promise," he said, jaw settin' firm-like. "But it ain't goin' t' come t' that, not 'gain."
"Okay," she said after a moment. Mal had promised, so that was something she didn't have to worry about anymore. No one could promise that it wouldn't happen again, but if she got dangerous again he would take care of it. She didn't doubt him at all.
Sail on silvergirl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
It ain't just like flyin'; it is flyin', n' if'n he don't catch hold o' himself, he'll be flyin' himself right t' Shepherd Book's special hell.
Can't help it, though. Flyin's part o' him, n' he can deny it no more'n he can deny he is his momma's boy.
"It is flyin'," he says, n' he falls t' his knees like he did that day at the bottom o' the tree, hands slippin' from her hair t' glide o'er the slope o' her shoulders, down her arms, curvin' round the softness o' her hips. Leanin' in close, he breathes in the warm scent o' her neck n' lightly blows 'gainst the shallow dip at the base o' it. "Stars're in you."
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If'n he were a man o' honor, he'd stop this. Mal'd stop it before it went too far. Ain't proper.
He don't stop it. Can't stop it.
Man can't stop a star from burnin', from lightin', n' that's what she is. That's what she does t' him. "Y' put stars in m' belly," he murmurs 'gainst her skin, fingers patient n' fair as they slide down the column o' her throat, o'er her front.
"That's not where the stars belong," she whispered, moving away just enough to free her hands and drop that book onto the top of the trunk. "They're here."
She took his hand and pressed it firmly against her heart, so he could feel how her heart beat so fast, like she'd just danced straight through an entire ballet without stopping once.
"And here." Her other hand traced the planes of his face, guiding him back to kissing her.
"They're damned near e'erywhere," he breathes, hatin' t' stop tastin' her lips but needin' t' say it all the same.
Fingers flex n' rest 'gainst the place where her heart rests, n' he thinks his must be beatin' in time. Feels so.
He brings his other hand t' her waist, fingers curlin' 'round it. She's warm; he can feel it e'en through the thin fabric o' her dress.
"And here." Skatin' his hand slow-like o'er the slight, soft roundness o' her belly, his fingers slip between the placket, brushin' 'gainst the warm skin there.
Wo de ma. Wo de ma. My God.
"Shi a," River murmured. "Stars."
There was a fire under her skin where Mal touched her. Wasn't fair if he wasn't feeling it, too. Vaguely annoyed that she had to go to so much trouble, she pulled at his shirt to untuck it and slid her hand under it.
"Wo de ma," she said softly, his heart under her hand echoing her own. "Shiny."
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
She had her own for staying, beyond the fact that Serenity and Mal were home. As long as she had her Captain and her ship, River wasn't going to worry too much about what other folks did.
"Specific reasons don't matter as long as you have them. As long as you keep me," she murmured, tilting her face up for a proper kiss. "Wǒ de bǎo hù zhě."
He didn't like t' think on it, though River, o' course, was right. Mal n' Serenity were a part o' this island as much as anyone else here. He tended t' not get close t' any o' the other folks 'cause he knew, whether it be flyin' off with Serenity herself'r the island sendin' him 'way some time, he'd be leavin' 'em all b'hind one day.
"Ain't plannin' on gettin' rid o' you, wǒ de wēi xiǎo xìntiānwēng." Layin' a hand 'gainst her cheek, he leaned closer t' her. "Ain't plannin' it one bit," he promised, sealin' it with a proper kiss.
[Wǒ de bǎo hù zhě = My protector; Wǒ de wēi xiǎo xìntiānwēng = My little albatross]
When you're weary, feeling small,
When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all;
I'm on your side.
"I just... I saw a notice that the doctors want to collect medical information from everyone. I don't intend on giving them anything. They say it's voluntary, but I worry about someone getting ideas. Trying to take from those who don't think it's any of their business."
River knew that anyone who might trouble her would have to deal with her Captain at some point, and that knowledge was comforting. She just didn't really want to deal with it at all.
"Doctors? Collectin' medical information? What sort of fèihuà is that?" Tensin' up, his grip on her hand tightened.
"They can't make us do nothin' here, River. You got that?" He didn't have t' ask what she was thinkin' 'bout; it was plain on her face. "If'n they was t' try, they'd be in for a world o' trouble from the likes o' me. Dong ma? Ain't no reason they need such information, n' we ain't givin' it t' them."
If'n the real Simon'd come back soon, they'd have their own doctor anyway, though he couldn't say as much t' River. Though they don't talk 'bout it, Mal knows how much it hurts her that the island took her brother.
"Nothin's goin' t' happen t' you. All right?"
She clung to his hand, her anchor. "They're not getting anything from me," she said, her chin setting in the stubborn manner she had when there was no chance of her backing down.
"I know they can't. I'm not -" That wasn't true. "I'm trying not to be too worried. I just don't like the way things could go. Why I hate the idea of the council even if I still trust Jim and Leoben and Veronica." She couldn't help but be troubled.
"Nothing's going to happen," she repeated doubtfully. She wanted to believe him, but things had happened, and she doubted anything could stop whatever else might happen. Not even Mal, though she knew he would try.
"Things could go wrong e'en without a council, though 'm thinkin' there's more o' a chance for wrongness with folks tryin' to put rules n' such on folk that ain't inclined t' follow 'em." Thinkin' back t' the time Kaylee'd nominated Mal for the council, he shook his head. He'd had t' give a speech n' e'erythin', n' what he'd said then he still felt now: gov'ment was not somethin' he believed in, not somethin' he'd have a part in.
"Nothin's goin' t' happen as long as we do our best t' make sure it don't," Mal said firm-like. "I'll do my best 'til my last breath's left me."
River just nodded. She knew all that, but she didn't much want to think on Mal having to fight like that, for her or anything else, ever again. She petted her puppy and held on to her Captain and decided that she was going to be all right.
"I want to go home," she said softly. "Will you take me home?"
A beat, n' then Mal reached o'er, brushin' his fingers 'gainst the line o' her jaw. Noddin', he said, "Let's go home, darlin'."
When times get rough
And friends just can't be found,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
"So it is," she agreed, unconsciously leaning against him. "Peaceful. It's good."
She was quiet herself for a bit, uncertain what to say now that she finally had him to talk to without anyone to overhear.
"People have been disappearing at an alarming rate," she said finally. "My friend Richard, who wanted to show me the dinosaurs? The island sent him away, and he's an awful lot like me. He'll be hunted by the law at home. Killed, likely. I've been very worried about him. About being sent away myself. Not as consumed by it as I was for a while, but still. Afraid."
She felt better somehow, having confessed what had been troubling her. She didn't want Simon or anyone worrying over her, but Mal was different. He should know.
He listens t' her words in silence, breath hitchin' a time'r two, though he don't notice it so much on 'ccount o' starin' at her real careful. Island's taken folk before. It took Wash once n' brought him back 'gain. It took Inara, though it ain't brought her back yet. So far it ain't took folk River was close t' 'til now, folk she was used t' havin' round, folk that ain't left her 'fore.
It ain't a good feelin'. Mal knows that much.
Reachin' a hand out, he takes hold o' River's. Though he feels a mite strange 'bout it, considerin', he don't pull his hand 'way.
"If'n he's like you, ain't nothin' goin' t' hold him down."
River held tightly to Mal's hand. It was hard to be really afraid when she was with him.
"He doesn't have anyone, though. I have you. And Simon and the rest of the crew. Even if I went back to the black, I wouldn't be alone. It might not be the you that's here now, the one who knows me like this, but it would still be you. I'd rather go back and have you than stay here without you. Not that we get a choice in the matter."
A shudder went through her at the thought of either thing happening, but she had mostly made her peace with her helplessness. She didn't like it, but she could live with what she had to.
The notion that the island could take River 'way ain't one that's truly crossed Mal's mind 'fore. Sure, in the back o' his brainpan he's known it's likely, but for some reason he ain't thought it could actually happen.
That ugly thought, that notion, it grips him tight. Makes things dark.
Mal don't like the dark unless it's the black.
"We ain't got no choice 'bout the island takin' us, but we do got a choice in tryin' t' find folk."
Growin' silent, he watches River for a time, thinkin' on what he'd do if'n the island'd take her.
Reachin' a hand t'ward her face, he says quiet-like, "I'd find you. 'r die tryin'."
When you're down and out,
When you're on the street,
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you.
I'll take your part.
"You can always count on the stars. They keep hangin' up there, stayin' n' bein' so the likes o' us can depend on 'em. They give light n' direction, n' they ne'er lie. Folk can count on 'em."
He watches the 'xpression on her face for a time, glad t' see the trouble he'd sensed fade. Duckin' his fingers out from under her chin, he touches one brief-like t' her nose.
"Just like you can count on me, dong ma?"
When darkness comes
And pains is all around,
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down.
"n' I wouldn't leave y', nor would I be puttin' a bullet t' y' 'less I had t'." Thinkin' back t' the Reavers n' that boy tryin' t' get back on the mule, Mal jerked his head t'ward the screen. "If'n there were Reavers'r some such, n' I'd be 'xpectin' y' t' do the same for the likes o' me, dong ma?"
River nodded solemnly, tears rising to the corners of her eyes. She didn't like this subject at all, but it had to be discussed, and now was as good a time as any. "And if I...." She nodded toward the screen, where she was locked up in the pantry while her crew decided what to do with her. "If I get like that again, if I'm hurting people and you can't stop it any other way, you stop it any way you can."
She was turned sideways in her seat, clutching Mal's arm tighter than ever as she looked at him intently. "Promise me."
Mal couldn't stand t' be lookin' at River when she was like she was, but he didn't look 'way. 'stead, he reached out, thumbs brushin' on either side o' her eyes, catchin' tears that ain't yet let out. She was so gorram sincere, n' so gorram intent that there weren't any way t' disregard her n' her pleadin'. Not that he would e'er do that an'way.
"I promise," he said, jaw settin' firm-like. "But it ain't goin' t' come t' that, not 'gain."
"Okay," she said after a moment. Mal had promised, so that was something she didn't have to worry about anymore. No one could promise that it wouldn't happen again, but if she got dangerous again he would take care of it. She didn't doubt him at all.
Sail on silvergirl,
Sail on by.
Your time has come to shine.
It ain't just like flyin'; it is flyin', n' if'n he don't catch hold o' himself, he'll be flyin' himself right t' Shepherd Book's special hell.
Can't help it, though. Flyin's part o' him, n' he can deny it no more'n he can deny he is his momma's boy.
"It is flyin'," he says, n' he falls t' his knees like he did that day at the bottom o' the tree, hands slippin' from her hair t' glide o'er the slope o' her shoulders, down her arms, curvin' round the softness o' her hips. Leanin' in close, he breathes in the warm scent o' her neck n' lightly blows 'gainst the shallow dip at the base o' it. "Stars're in you."
All your dreams are on their way.
See how they shine.
If'n he were a man o' honor, he'd stop this. Mal'd stop it before it went too far. Ain't proper.
He don't stop it. Can't stop it.
Man can't stop a star from burnin', from lightin', n' that's what she is. That's what she does t' him. "Y' put stars in m' belly," he murmurs 'gainst her skin, fingers patient n' fair as they slide down the column o' her throat, o'er her front.
"That's not where the stars belong," she whispered, moving away just enough to free her hands and drop that book onto the top of the trunk. "They're here."
She took his hand and pressed it firmly against her heart, so he could feel how her heart beat so fast, like she'd just danced straight through an entire ballet without stopping once.
"And here." Her other hand traced the planes of his face, guiding him back to kissing her.
"They're damned near e'erywhere," he breathes, hatin' t' stop tastin' her lips but needin' t' say it all the same.
Fingers flex n' rest 'gainst the place where her heart rests, n' he thinks his must be beatin' in time. Feels so.
He brings his other hand t' her waist, fingers curlin' 'round it. She's warm; he can feel it e'en through the thin fabric o' her dress.
"And here." Skatin' his hand slow-like o'er the slight, soft roundness o' her belly, his fingers slip between the placket, brushin' 'gainst the warm skin there.
Wo de ma. Wo de ma. My God.
"Shi a," River murmured. "Stars."
There was a fire under her skin where Mal touched her. Wasn't fair if he wasn't feeling it, too. Vaguely annoyed that she had to go to so much trouble, she pulled at his shirt to untuck it and slid her hand under it.
"Wo de ma," she said softly, his heart under her hand echoing her own. "Shiny."
If you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind.
She had her own for staying, beyond the fact that Serenity and Mal were home. As long as she had her Captain and her ship, River wasn't going to worry too much about what other folks did.
"Specific reasons don't matter as long as you have them. As long as you keep me," she murmured, tilting her face up for a proper kiss. "Wǒ de bǎo hù zhě."
He didn't like t' think on it, though River, o' course, was right. Mal n' Serenity were a part o' this island as much as anyone else here. He tended t' not get close t' any o' the other folks 'cause he knew, whether it be flyin' off with Serenity herself'r the island sendin' him 'way some time, he'd be leavin' 'em all b'hind one day.
"Ain't plannin' on gettin' rid o' you, wǒ de wēi xiǎo xìntiānwēng." Layin' a hand 'gainst her cheek, he leaned closer t' her. "Ain't plannin' it one bit," he promised, sealin' it with a proper kiss.
[Wǒ de bǎo hù zhě = My protector; Wǒ de wēi xiǎo xìntiānwēng = My little albatross]