Fic: No Power in the 'Verse, Part 13/18 (Firefly, River/Mal, PG-13)
Title: No Power in the 'Verse: XIII. Take Away the Divine
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~950
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title and cut text from The Shore by Basia Bulat
XIII. Take Away the Divine
Though River still curses its poor timing, the wave has led them to a job, and she more than welcomes the prospects that it's brought about.
“Goin' to a fancy party! And with the Cap'n, too. You're a lucky one,” Kaylee says, winking at River, her grin bright as Serenity's full burn.
They are in River's bunk, Kaylee filling it with delighted chatter as she helps button River into a long, dark blue dress. “Course, when I went to a shiny party with him, I got hauled back here by Badger 'n his goons, but I'm sure you'll have a much better time. And the job'll be simple, with you along.”
River is a hundred different things at once, pinning herself together by hanging on Kaylee's words, but mostly she is excited. Excited to be allowed on a job, excited to put her cursed talents to some use, and excited to be, at least for one night, on Mal's arm. Anticipation hums through her blood, nearly drowning out Kaylee.
“It's such a romantic story, ain't it? Lady Shen givin' her lover those jewels of hers so's he'd have something to remember her by.”
“Is it?” River tilts her head, trying to work this out. To her it seems that actions are more romantic than symbols, and the actions of Lady Shen's lover, one Alexander Barrett, scion of an old wealthy family, have taken this tale galaxies away from the romantic.
“Oh, sure. Givin' her most shiny bits of precious as a token of her love. I think it's sweet.” Kaylee's face has gone all dreamy, though her practicality reasserts itself as she finishes with the buttons, moves on to comb out River's hair. “Course, suppose it would've been more romantic if she'd given him something her husband wouldn't notice the loss of. And if her man'd just give 'em back 'stead of being all high-and-mighty 'bout it, make us do the work of getting hold of them.”
“Yes,” River says, though in truth she is grateful he has not, happy this job requires her reading in order to locate and reacquire the precious in question. “Should have given something with more meaning and less substance.” She wrinkles her nose, willing her hair to untangle ahead of the comb's tugging teeth. “Or shouldn't have given anything at all when she had a husband smart enough to catch her.”
Kaylee giggles. “Apparently he's an old fella, watches her like a hawk. Bad luck for her that he's got an urge to see this 'ticular necklace on her when she gets her portrait done. Now, what kinda style you want for your hair?”
River squirms a bit as her hair is pulled back and gathered up, memories of its confinement at her mother's hands rising. “Like it down. Safer. More freedom.”
“Well,” says Kaylee, making a face that usually speaks of elusive trouble in the engine, “that ain't quite proper for a fancy party like this one, but I was never any good with those beautiful styles Inara could do no how. What if we just pull it back like this?” she asks, fastening River's hair at the base of her neck.
She turns River to face the room's small mirror, and River sees a girl who is a woman, an almost-exactly-River. “It's not me,” she says. “But near enough to pass.”
“You look beautiful,” Kaylee says, handing her the hateful shoes she must wear. Her beloved boots have no place in a polished world.
“Beautiful enough to play the Captain's wife?” River asks, a grin big enough to match Kaylee's spreading over her face. That is part of tonight's wishful fiction, the false tickets providing their entree to the party coming with a matched pair of names.
“Oh honey, those boys won't know what to say, they see you lookin' like such a lady. Much too good for the likes of them. Though Cap'n does clean up nice, I admit.”
This is truth, River decides, emerging from her bunk to find the man himself waiting for her.
“Took you girls long enough,” he says, heading off down the passage with River at his side. “Was 'bout to climb down there, find out what in hell you two were playin' at.”
“Aw, Cap'n,” Kaylee protests, following them. “Ain't you even gonna tell a girl she looks nice?”
“You look gorgeous as ever, little Kaylee,” Mal says, grinning over his shoulder at his mechanic.
“Gee thanks, Captain!” she calls, leaving Mal and River to pass on through the galley and along the passage towards the shuttle alone.
River says nothing, concentrating on one step at a time, carefully reconciling herself with this almost-exactly-River woman she has become, fitting them together in the tight confines of her dress.
Even so, she has the attention to spare to notice Mal's eyes traveling her length, taking her in. “You look very fine too, albatross,” he says with just the hint of a smirk, just enough to make her breath catch and her cheeks warm.
Still, there is enough of herself to be flippant. “Look nice yourself, Captain Tightpants.”
“Don't go puttin' your attention where it oughtn't be now, darlin',” he says, but there's amusement under his voice.
Entering the shuttle, her stomach flutters; not just with nerves for the job to come, but because she can feel, warm against the small of her back, the slightest touch of his hand, guiding her into place.
Part 12 - Master Post - Part 14
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~950
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes: Chapter title and cut text from The Shore by Basia Bulat
XIII. Take Away the Divine
Though River still curses its poor timing, the wave has led them to a job, and she more than welcomes the prospects that it's brought about.
“Goin' to a fancy party! And with the Cap'n, too. You're a lucky one,” Kaylee says, winking at River, her grin bright as Serenity's full burn.
They are in River's bunk, Kaylee filling it with delighted chatter as she helps button River into a long, dark blue dress. “Course, when I went to a shiny party with him, I got hauled back here by Badger 'n his goons, but I'm sure you'll have a much better time. And the job'll be simple, with you along.”
River is a hundred different things at once, pinning herself together by hanging on Kaylee's words, but mostly she is excited. Excited to be allowed on a job, excited to put her cursed talents to some use, and excited to be, at least for one night, on Mal's arm. Anticipation hums through her blood, nearly drowning out Kaylee.
“It's such a romantic story, ain't it? Lady Shen givin' her lover those jewels of hers so's he'd have something to remember her by.”
“Is it?” River tilts her head, trying to work this out. To her it seems that actions are more romantic than symbols, and the actions of Lady Shen's lover, one Alexander Barrett, scion of an old wealthy family, have taken this tale galaxies away from the romantic.
“Oh, sure. Givin' her most shiny bits of precious as a token of her love. I think it's sweet.” Kaylee's face has gone all dreamy, though her practicality reasserts itself as she finishes with the buttons, moves on to comb out River's hair. “Course, suppose it would've been more romantic if she'd given him something her husband wouldn't notice the loss of. And if her man'd just give 'em back 'stead of being all high-and-mighty 'bout it, make us do the work of getting hold of them.”
“Yes,” River says, though in truth she is grateful he has not, happy this job requires her reading in order to locate and reacquire the precious in question. “Should have given something with more meaning and less substance.” She wrinkles her nose, willing her hair to untangle ahead of the comb's tugging teeth. “Or shouldn't have given anything at all when she had a husband smart enough to catch her.”
Kaylee giggles. “Apparently he's an old fella, watches her like a hawk. Bad luck for her that he's got an urge to see this 'ticular necklace on her when she gets her portrait done. Now, what kinda style you want for your hair?”
River squirms a bit as her hair is pulled back and gathered up, memories of its confinement at her mother's hands rising. “Like it down. Safer. More freedom.”
“Well,” says Kaylee, making a face that usually speaks of elusive trouble in the engine, “that ain't quite proper for a fancy party like this one, but I was never any good with those beautiful styles Inara could do no how. What if we just pull it back like this?” she asks, fastening River's hair at the base of her neck.
She turns River to face the room's small mirror, and River sees a girl who is a woman, an almost-exactly-River. “It's not me,” she says. “But near enough to pass.”
“You look beautiful,” Kaylee says, handing her the hateful shoes she must wear. Her beloved boots have no place in a polished world.
“Beautiful enough to play the Captain's wife?” River asks, a grin big enough to match Kaylee's spreading over her face. That is part of tonight's wishful fiction, the false tickets providing their entree to the party coming with a matched pair of names.
“Oh honey, those boys won't know what to say, they see you lookin' like such a lady. Much too good for the likes of them. Though Cap'n does clean up nice, I admit.”
This is truth, River decides, emerging from her bunk to find the man himself waiting for her.
“Took you girls long enough,” he says, heading off down the passage with River at his side. “Was 'bout to climb down there, find out what in hell you two were playin' at.”
“Aw, Cap'n,” Kaylee protests, following them. “Ain't you even gonna tell a girl she looks nice?”
“You look gorgeous as ever, little Kaylee,” Mal says, grinning over his shoulder at his mechanic.
“Gee thanks, Captain!” she calls, leaving Mal and River to pass on through the galley and along the passage towards the shuttle alone.
River says nothing, concentrating on one step at a time, carefully reconciling herself with this almost-exactly-River woman she has become, fitting them together in the tight confines of her dress.
Even so, she has the attention to spare to notice Mal's eyes traveling her length, taking her in. “You look very fine too, albatross,” he says with just the hint of a smirk, just enough to make her breath catch and her cheeks warm.
Still, there is enough of herself to be flippant. “Look nice yourself, Captain Tightpants.”
“Don't go puttin' your attention where it oughtn't be now, darlin',” he says, but there's amusement under his voice.
Entering the shuttle, her stomach flutters; not just with nerves for the job to come, but because she can feel, warm against the small of her back, the slightest touch of his hand, guiding her into place.
Part 12 - Master Post - Part 14