Fic: Intimacy [Firefly/BSG, PG, River/Leoben]
Title: Intimacy
Fandoms: Firefly, BSG
Characters/Pairings: River Tam, Leoben, River/Leoben, tiny mention of Kara Thrace.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda (...yes, this is another comment_fic one...)
Summary: fic #4 in my River/Leoben series (the Patterns 'verse), inspired/prompted by ravenspear.
This one is... wordier and probably weirder than the previous three. Er. Sorry?
Disclaimer: BSG is property of Ronald D Moore, Firefly is Joss Whedon's, no copyright infringement intended.
They had made no plans, when he first stepped aboard Serenity. There had been no ideas about how long he might stay or when he might leave or where he might go when he did. River had seen that he needed to be with people, that he needed not to be alone, and she had talked Captain Reynolds into letting him stay.
The first days and weeks, he had tried to be unobtrusive, spending most of his time with River. As time passed, however, he was drawn into conversations and began to know the crew better. They seem to accept him more, despite the looks he gets from River’s brother sometimes.
It was a month after his arrival when the Captain included him in the plan of action for the crew’s current job. River had glanced at him and smiled. The job went well. After that, he was part of the crew, odd looks or no odd looks.
(”Don’t worry about Simon,” Zoe tells him privately, “he’s just protective of her.” He understood that. He often felt a strong urge to protect River, though for different reasons. “Is the Captain not concerned about the doctor having issues with me?” he’d asked, concerned. Zoe had just laughed. The Captain didn’t like Simon that much himself, she told him. But as long as Simon was crew, he’d deal with it, she explained.)
He doesn’t jeopardise this new acceptance by telling them how he feels about River. It’s obvious that they care for her, but they would not understand. He doesn’t need to tell River herself, of course, because she already seems to know, with her ready acceptance of everything that he is and the strange, almost indescribable thing between them.
He hasn’t asked her to try putting it into words, because there are no words that could adequately describe this. So he contents himself with the one sure and certain piece of knowledge that he does have. He knows that he loves her.
Not in the fleeting, physical sense that the word most often means. This is deeper, more complete, acceptance and adoration of everything about her. The way she moves, the apparently random words she utters, the spark of something bright and sharp that he sees in her eyes.
(Sometimes, she will do, or say, or draw something that reminds him of Kara. Maybe it’s something about River, or something that she picked up from his own memories.)
He’s sitting on his bed, and River is next to him, resting against his shoulder. She takes his hand and grips it tightly. Without moving, without looking at him, she says quietly, “You love me.” She paused for a moment and added, “I love you, too.”
He pretends ignorance. “You do?”
“Of course. I can’t not. Since the first time I saw you.”
After their conversation, he realises that it is even more important not to let the crew - who he now thinks of as River’s family - know his true feelings. He doesn’t mind having to hide. This is theirs and theirs alone, why should anyone else have to be involved?
Fandoms: Firefly, BSG
Characters/Pairings: River Tam, Leoben, River/Leoben, tiny mention of Kara Thrace.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda (...yes, this is another comment_fic one...)
Summary: fic #4 in my River/Leoben series (the Patterns 'verse), inspired/prompted by ravenspear.
This one is... wordier and probably weirder than the previous three. Er. Sorry?
Disclaimer: BSG is property of Ronald D Moore, Firefly is Joss Whedon's, no copyright infringement intended.
They had made no plans, when he first stepped aboard Serenity. There had been no ideas about how long he might stay or when he might leave or where he might go when he did. River had seen that he needed to be with people, that he needed not to be alone, and she had talked Captain Reynolds into letting him stay.
The first days and weeks, he had tried to be unobtrusive, spending most of his time with River. As time passed, however, he was drawn into conversations and began to know the crew better. They seem to accept him more, despite the looks he gets from River’s brother sometimes.
It was a month after his arrival when the Captain included him in the plan of action for the crew’s current job. River had glanced at him and smiled. The job went well. After that, he was part of the crew, odd looks or no odd looks.
(”Don’t worry about Simon,” Zoe tells him privately, “he’s just protective of her.” He understood that. He often felt a strong urge to protect River, though for different reasons. “Is the Captain not concerned about the doctor having issues with me?” he’d asked, concerned. Zoe had just laughed. The Captain didn’t like Simon that much himself, she told him. But as long as Simon was crew, he’d deal with it, she explained.)
He doesn’t jeopardise this new acceptance by telling them how he feels about River. It’s obvious that they care for her, but they would not understand. He doesn’t need to tell River herself, of course, because she already seems to know, with her ready acceptance of everything that he is and the strange, almost indescribable thing between them.
He hasn’t asked her to try putting it into words, because there are no words that could adequately describe this. So he contents himself with the one sure and certain piece of knowledge that he does have. He knows that he loves her.
Not in the fleeting, physical sense that the word most often means. This is deeper, more complete, acceptance and adoration of everything about her. The way she moves, the apparently random words she utters, the spark of something bright and sharp that he sees in her eyes.
(Sometimes, she will do, or say, or draw something that reminds him of Kara. Maybe it’s something about River, or something that she picked up from his own memories.)
He’s sitting on his bed, and River is next to him, resting against his shoulder. She takes his hand and grips it tightly. Without moving, without looking at him, she says quietly, “You love me.” She paused for a moment and added, “I love you, too.”
He pretends ignorance. “You do?”
“Of course. I can’t not. Since the first time I saw you.”
After their conversation, he realises that it is even more important not to let the crew - who he now thinks of as River’s family - know his true feelings. He doesn’t mind having to hide. This is theirs and theirs alone, why should anyone else have to be involved?