Vestigial Valentines: A Firefly Fanfic
Vestigial Valentines
Rating: PG
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 1,214
Note: For the challenge at scifiland . Valentine's Day on Serenity. Who's Cupid? (Old-fashioned Valentine's cards herein.)
Even though, as River had noted, the concept of “days” and “months” was irrelevant to Life in the Black (or, as she put it, "a vestigial mode of time measurement based on solar cycles … not applicable"), there was always someone that kept them on some version of an Old Earth calendar, bringing in the half-remembered holidays from multiple cultures like faded photographs, memories in bits and pieces.
So, as it got closer to what they thought would be February 14th, it was so declared to celebrate the day of Saint Valentine, whose history and provenance were unknown, but whose legacy survived, somewhat. From their diverse and collective memory, they conjured up a list that included: chocolate, heart-shaped bits of paper, fat naked babies with wings and mysteriously inclined bows and arrows, and romance.
Kaylee proposed to fashion protein paste into a heart-shaped semblance of a chocolate cake; Inara brought red and gold silks for the table and secretly dug out cinnamon sweets given to her by a past admirer. Mal approved of spending some coin on fresh vegetables for Book to make a celebratory feast. Nothing could be done about the bits of paper, as paper was too rare, and anyway no-one seemed to know what was done with those. Likewise the fat naked babies, though Jayne offered up a couple of bow-and-arrow sets for post-dinner Valentine hijinks of an unexplained nature. As for the romance, they all turned to Wash and Zoe as the sole onboard representatives of such a luxury, though Jayne seriously considered the benefits of bringing a hunk of chocolatey protein cake to any one of his dirtside lady friends, and Kaylee found herself looking longingly through her eyelashes at Simon, oblivious at his end of the table.
As the big day dawned (or, rather, the onboard timekeeper clicked over to a new cycle), Wash dragged himself from Zoe’s warm, sleeping embrace and readied himself for his shift at the helm. Stopping by the kitchen for a snack, he nodded blearily at Mal, who was just coming off duty, and clambered up the ladder and across the catwalk to the Bridge. He sat down, flipped off auto-pilot, scanned the skies, and tried to will himself awake. Something caught his eye; under T Rex’s plastic feet was a blur of red. He picked it up, a card of heavy paper, adorned with hearts and a cartoon couple in an old prop plane. “With my sweetheart as my guide, I’ll surely enjoy an aeroplane ride.” He fingered the card, savoring the unusual sense of the fibers, as the image arose of a childhood museum trip, and the display of old Earth customs-a glass case, full of small cards like this, worn and faded, with sweet images and fanciful sayings. He remembered being puzzled about a culture that would produce such items; a feeling that was replicated now as it occurred to him to wonder where, and who, and when--the HELL this had come from.
From his seat at the kitchen table, cradling a cup of tea, Mal watched Wash pass through and waited for the slight surge as Serenity went off autopilot before heading down for a bit of shut-eye. As he neared the hatch to his cabin, something penetrated his fog of worry about the next job-a flash of red and white on the door. He jerked warily, neared cautiously, and saw a card with an image of a kid in an ancient astronaut suit, peering out of a space capsule from the dawn of the space age. “You put me in orbit, Valentine.” Whaaa?
Zoe strode into the sitting area where she’d left her gun-cleaning kit. Opening the leather case, she spotted a card with a picture of a … gun? On a red heart? “I aim to please you.” Nonplussed, she stared at the image, trying to decide if it was a threat, or some kind of flirtation. Surely Wash couldn’t have obtained something like this. Her brow furrowed as she stared, tapping the card as her mind raced over the possibilities.
Humming a lilting tune, Kaylee bounded into the engine room. To most, the tangle of metal and litter of tools was a chaotic mess, but Kaylee knew every bit of flotsam, every moving shining part, so she immediately noticed something unfamiliar stuck in the hammock net. Plucking it out, she blinked at the image of a boy and girl, a green vehicle, and the words “I’d be happy ‘fuel’ be my valentine.” She mouthed the phrase a few times, light dawning and eyes glowing, and, sliding it into the pocket of her coveralls, set one part of her mind to checking the compression coil, while the other wove fantasies of her secret admirer-no doubt someone of wealth and privilege, who else could afford such a rarity?
Inara drifted into the kitchen and went to the cabinet with her stock of tea and spices. Propped next to the little iron teapot was a worn card picturing two faded teacups: “You suit me to a tea, Valentine!” Her lips curved in a surprised smile, and she tucked the card in her décolletage.
Book opened his Bible for morning devotions, and something tumbled out. Bending to pick it up, he was startled by a picture of a child in a uniform, bursting from a red heart with a sign saying “Police Be Mine.” His eyes darted around the room and he felt a clutch of fear. Could this be a warning from someone in his past? But how could anyone have intruded…someone already on Serenity? A spy? Or….just a harmless prank from one of his crewmates? For Valentine’s Day. That must be it.
River glided into the Infirmary, startling Simon, who was leaning against the counter staring at what looked like a hand of Tall Card. He looked puzzled, so she moved closer to see what he held. “I believe this one is yours,” he said with a slight smile, handing her a picture of a little girl: “We’ll dance along if you’ll be mine.” She stared at it silently, then raised her eyes to his. He flipped the other card for her to see a boy holding an antique thermometer, with the words “Valentine, I’ve got a bad case of you.” He shrugged quizzically. She fingered her card, then said, “He knows us better than we think.” She gave her brother a long look, and wandered out again. Simon stared, shook his head, and went back to counting bandages.
Grinning ferociously, Jayne kicked back on his bunk and rubbed the little card picturing a pin-up girl on a silky heart. Some of these old-fashioned ideas were worth keepin’ up. He looked idly at the heap of worn and torn, colorful cards on the blanket. Good thing Ma got those to him in time; he’d been thinking since last year’s celebration of the box that had been in the trunk in the Cobb attic for generations. Had took him some time to pick through the bunch, finding one for each. “Hope they like 'em,” he muttered to himself, “keep ‘em guessing for sure.” Mentally patting himself on the back, he levered himself to his feet and headed up the ladder to the party.
Rating: PG
Fandom: Firefly
Words: 1,214
Note: For the challenge at scifiland . Valentine's Day on Serenity. Who's Cupid? (Old-fashioned Valentine's cards herein.)
Even though, as River had noted, the concept of “days” and “months” was irrelevant to Life in the Black (or, as she put it, "a vestigial mode of time measurement based on solar cycles … not applicable"), there was always someone that kept them on some version of an Old Earth calendar, bringing in the half-remembered holidays from multiple cultures like faded photographs, memories in bits and pieces.
So, as it got closer to what they thought would be February 14th, it was so declared to celebrate the day of Saint Valentine, whose history and provenance were unknown, but whose legacy survived, somewhat. From their diverse and collective memory, they conjured up a list that included: chocolate, heart-shaped bits of paper, fat naked babies with wings and mysteriously inclined bows and arrows, and romance.
Kaylee proposed to fashion protein paste into a heart-shaped semblance of a chocolate cake; Inara brought red and gold silks for the table and secretly dug out cinnamon sweets given to her by a past admirer. Mal approved of spending some coin on fresh vegetables for Book to make a celebratory feast. Nothing could be done about the bits of paper, as paper was too rare, and anyway no-one seemed to know what was done with those. Likewise the fat naked babies, though Jayne offered up a couple of bow-and-arrow sets for post-dinner Valentine hijinks of an unexplained nature. As for the romance, they all turned to Wash and Zoe as the sole onboard representatives of such a luxury, though Jayne seriously considered the benefits of bringing a hunk of chocolatey protein cake to any one of his dirtside lady friends, and Kaylee found herself looking longingly through her eyelashes at Simon, oblivious at his end of the table.
As the big day dawned (or, rather, the onboard timekeeper clicked over to a new cycle), Wash dragged himself from Zoe’s warm, sleeping embrace and readied himself for his shift at the helm. Stopping by the kitchen for a snack, he nodded blearily at Mal, who was just coming off duty, and clambered up the ladder and across the catwalk to the Bridge. He sat down, flipped off auto-pilot, scanned the skies, and tried to will himself awake. Something caught his eye; under T Rex’s plastic feet was a blur of red. He picked it up, a card of heavy paper, adorned with hearts and a cartoon couple in an old prop plane. “With my sweetheart as my guide, I’ll surely enjoy an aeroplane ride.” He fingered the card, savoring the unusual sense of the fibers, as the image arose of a childhood museum trip, and the display of old Earth customs-a glass case, full of small cards like this, worn and faded, with sweet images and fanciful sayings. He remembered being puzzled about a culture that would produce such items; a feeling that was replicated now as it occurred to him to wonder where, and who, and when--the HELL this had come from.
From his seat at the kitchen table, cradling a cup of tea, Mal watched Wash pass through and waited for the slight surge as Serenity went off autopilot before heading down for a bit of shut-eye. As he neared the hatch to his cabin, something penetrated his fog of worry about the next job-a flash of red and white on the door. He jerked warily, neared cautiously, and saw a card with an image of a kid in an ancient astronaut suit, peering out of a space capsule from the dawn of the space age. “You put me in orbit, Valentine.” Whaaa?
Zoe strode into the sitting area where she’d left her gun-cleaning kit. Opening the leather case, she spotted a card with a picture of a … gun? On a red heart? “I aim to please you.” Nonplussed, she stared at the image, trying to decide if it was a threat, or some kind of flirtation. Surely Wash couldn’t have obtained something like this. Her brow furrowed as she stared, tapping the card as her mind raced over the possibilities.
Humming a lilting tune, Kaylee bounded into the engine room. To most, the tangle of metal and litter of tools was a chaotic mess, but Kaylee knew every bit of flotsam, every moving shining part, so she immediately noticed something unfamiliar stuck in the hammock net. Plucking it out, she blinked at the image of a boy and girl, a green vehicle, and the words “I’d be happy ‘fuel’ be my valentine.” She mouthed the phrase a few times, light dawning and eyes glowing, and, sliding it into the pocket of her coveralls, set one part of her mind to checking the compression coil, while the other wove fantasies of her secret admirer-no doubt someone of wealth and privilege, who else could afford such a rarity?
Inara drifted into the kitchen and went to the cabinet with her stock of tea and spices. Propped next to the little iron teapot was a worn card picturing two faded teacups: “You suit me to a tea, Valentine!” Her lips curved in a surprised smile, and she tucked the card in her décolletage.
Book opened his Bible for morning devotions, and something tumbled out. Bending to pick it up, he was startled by a picture of a child in a uniform, bursting from a red heart with a sign saying “Police Be Mine.” His eyes darted around the room and he felt a clutch of fear. Could this be a warning from someone in his past? But how could anyone have intruded…someone already on Serenity? A spy? Or….just a harmless prank from one of his crewmates? For Valentine’s Day. That must be it.
River glided into the Infirmary, startling Simon, who was leaning against the counter staring at what looked like a hand of Tall Card. He looked puzzled, so she moved closer to see what he held. “I believe this one is yours,” he said with a slight smile, handing her a picture of a little girl: “We’ll dance along if you’ll be mine.” She stared at it silently, then raised her eyes to his. He flipped the other card for her to see a boy holding an antique thermometer, with the words “Valentine, I’ve got a bad case of you.” He shrugged quizzically. She fingered her card, then said, “He knows us better than we think.” She gave her brother a long look, and wandered out again. Simon stared, shook his head, and went back to counting bandages.
Grinning ferociously, Jayne kicked back on his bunk and rubbed the little card picturing a pin-up girl on a silky heart. Some of these old-fashioned ideas were worth keepin’ up. He looked idly at the heap of worn and torn, colorful cards on the blanket. Good thing Ma got those to him in time; he’d been thinking since last year’s celebration of the box that had been in the trunk in the Cobb attic for generations. Had took him some time to pick through the bunch, finding one for each. “Hope they like 'em,” he muttered to himself, “keep ‘em guessing for sure.” Mentally patting himself on the back, he levered himself to his feet and headed up the ladder to the party.