FIC: Oases (Kaylee/Kennedy/Serenity, PG-13)
TITLE: Oases
RATING: PG-13
FANDOM: BtVS/AtS, Firefly
PAIRING: Kaylee/Kennedy/Serenity
SPOILERS: Post-Chosen; post-Objects in Space
SUMMARY: So really, this is all Mal’s fault.
PROMPT: Written for alixtii for femslash_minis’ Round 30. Requested was: a sports bra, intemperately hot engine room, and dirt/grease smudges.
NOTES: Many thanks to escritoireazul for her beta. It is probably of interest that Carla wanted me to extol how/why Kennedy was in the future with the Serenity crew, and I completely ignored her. So blame me for that.
The ventilation system’s blower motor died almost two weeks ago, and Mal’s too cheap to buy a new one until Fanty and Mingo cough up the credits they owe him for the Paquin job. Until then, no matter how much Kaylee begs, the engine room is going to be hotter than Bellerephons’ deserts. The ones on the sun side.
So really, this is all Mal’s fault.
***
Salt crystals and engine grease coat Kennedy’s mouth. You’re my favorite flavor, she thinks, drunk on come dream logic. She giggles against the concave plane of Kaylee’s belly.
From the flat of her back, Kaylee watches Serenity’s engine working, the parts moving in their familiar cadence, sliding smoothly against each other. The constant, beautiful dance.
It is so hot that her vision wavers; to her fallible human eyes, every view might contain an oasis.
***
Serenity is Kaylee’s best girl, and Kaylee has a way with her, but her inner workings are big and metal and stronger than a dozen wild mustangs, so sometimes Kaylee needs a little help. Muscular help. Before, she’d have Mal or Jayne help her, but now that Kennedy’s here, it’s nice to have her help. She doesn’t get so flustered with all the mechanical jargon, and it’s nice to spend time with another girl for a change. You know, a girl who’s girly, and who’s all there upstairs. Girl talk of that sort’s pretty much been slim pickin’s since Inara left.
“It’s hot in here,” Kennedy says. “Damn hot.”
She picks up a twenty pound wrench one handed, swings it up above her head to reach a bolt high up on the trace compression block. Sweat courses over the curves of her bronzed muscles, makes her look, in the wavering heat vision, shining, golden. It mats her hair, wets her clothing to her like a second skin.
“Yeah,” Kaylee says. “You get used to it, I guess. Part of the job.”
Without any further comment, Kennedy drops her wrench and pulls her tank top off over her head. The muscles of her back bunch and extend beneath her bronzed flesh, sliding smoothly against each other. She is wearing a smaller kind of vest or shirt over her breasts; it, too, is wet with sweat; it lies like a shadow over the lovely curves of her breasts, nipples.
Kaylee approaches her.
“What is that?”
Kennedy freezes, bent in picking up the wrench again.
“Huh?”
“That thing you’re wearing. What is it?”
Kennedy straightens. She looks oddly at Kaylee.
“This?” she asks. She snaps the strap of the little vest. “It’s a sports bra. You don’t have sports bras in the future?”
“No!” Kaylee says. “It looks . . . it looks like such a good idea! So much comfier than what we wear.”
“What do you wear?”
Without thinking, Kaylee removes her own shirt, to show Kennedy what kind of underwear they have in the future.
At first, Kaylee thinks Kennedy finds her bra odd-looking, she looks at her so long, so long without speaking. So she feels awkward and embarrassed, ashamed of being so eager and unassuming. And then Kennedy wets her lips, and she steps toward Kaylee, looking at her with her dark, unwavering gaze.
“You’re really beautiful,” Kennedy says, her usually brash voice a mere whisper, a gentle rasp.
And then Kaylee is feeling really far from awkward and embarrassed.
***
Kennedy’s tongue circles Kaylee’s navel. Kaylee’s flesh trembles, shaking with laughter. The vibrations quake into Kennedy’s mouth like the rocking of Serenity’s engine vibrate into her flesh. Her whole body is alive with borrowed vibration.
Her body hums.
Her body hums, completing the harmony.