This is for B-chan. Finally.
At long last, I have written the fic for the challenge issued by byakuganchick (even though it wasn't issued to me in the first place).
Title: That Girl
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 1335
Pairings: Kaylee/Simon, Simon+River (platonic)
Note: I couldn't work in Marble Slab; it just didn't fit. I got everything else, though.
1.
Mongolian BBQ. It was Jayne’s idea. Normally they don’t go with Jayne’s ideas because they tend to involve a lot of ostentatious shooting of things, and that could get a person noticed. Arrested. But sometimes Jayne’s ideas are right useful, like when copious firearms use and not much subterfuge are called for, or they need somewhere to eat and he knows the town best.
“Don’t get soda,” he warns once they’re seated. Simon raises his eyebrows.
“Why not?”
Jayne looks consideringly at Simon for a moment. “Y’know what? Forget I said anything. You go ahead and get soda if you’re so set on it.” The doctor looks bemused.
“Well, I wasn’t, but now I’m curious.”
Simon orders soda. Everyone else orders tea.
Kaylee sits next to Simon. She notices he’s finished his drink; the food hasn’t even arrived yet. He notices her looking at his glass.
“It tasted fine; I don’t know why he warned us off.”
The first dish arrives. Shortly after everyone has begun to eat, there is a mad scramble for the teapot. Simon joins in, forgetting that he doesn’t have a teacup. His hand bumps Kaylee’s. She can’t help glancing at him. He can’t help glancing at her.
They look away immediately. Kaylee draws back her hand and drops her eyes, cheeks flushing. Jayne fills her teacup for her.
Simon pleads with the waitress, but her English is terrible and her Chinese nearly as bad, and she is implacable.
“No refill, no refill! Sorry!” Eventually he manages to persuade her to bring him a teacup.
* * *
2.
She’s been in the engine room all afternoon. Before dinner she goes to her room to change and wash up. On the way, she passes Simon in the corridor and smiles in greeting. He’s on his way to the infirmary; his shirt is pristine, deep slate blue accenting the grey-blue of his eyes; hair smooth, trousers creased.
She is instantly aware that her blouse and pants are covered with grease, her hair is everywhere except in the braids she put it in this morning, and her face is smudged.
He smiles back, but she’s looking at the floor now and doesn’t see it.
* * *
3.
It can’t be helped; Kaylee is a romantic. Truthfully, it’s her dearest charm. Impossible not to love her.
She doesn’t know that, of course. She’d be less charming if she knew, maybe. But she is innocent.
Impossible for her not to love.
She thinks about it sometimes, when she’s alone. What things would be like if she could be with Simon. No harm in just thinking.
It would help a bit, maybe, if they weren’t both wanted fugitives and could settle somewhere. Or maybe it wouldn’t. After all, that was the reason they met in the first place. And she doesn’t really mind wandering. They’ve been wandering for some while now, and she’s been happy, because she can be with Serenity and her crew and her captain.
She thinks she’d be happy if she could always be with Simon.
Then she’ll come out of her dreaming and go find him, and he will be with his sister.
The reason behind the reason.
Today, River is insisting that she has discovered the cause of gravity. She is vehement. Simon has her face in his hands and is explaining that oranges, being spherical, are not therefore necessarily relevant to the argument.
He is absorbed.
Kaylee turns in the doorway and goes to Inara’s shuttle instead.
* * *
4.
One misplaced comma is enough to set River off.
She suffers Jayne because he is crew, though she corrects his spelling and grammar on the notes he leaves on the fridge. The butchering of language by strangers, however, she will not countenance.
They are passing a sign that reads, “Mama’s Bakery: try our cannoli we know you will love them, they are delicious and cheap!” Her face hardens, brows drawing together, mouth settling into a displeased half-pout.
“Simon?” She plucks at his sleeve. “Simon, they’re abusing the comma.”
“What… where? Meimei, what are you talking about?” She points.
“That sign. It hurts. I can hear it screaming.” He’s facing the right way now; she edges behind his shoulder. “There should be a law. They shouldn’t be allowed.”
Kaylee watches with interest. She hadn’t really noticed that the sign was wrong. Simon turns toward his sister.
“Look, it’s just a comma. I don’t hear any screaming, River.” She gazes up at him, still troubled.
“But it isn’t just the comma,” she explains carefully, as to a slow pupil. “There has to be a period, and there’s a semicolon missing, too. It’s cruel, don’t you see?” Simon is at a loss. Her argument is running squiggly again, the way most of her logic does now. He isn’t sure what to say.
Then River smiles suddenly, that pure, impossibly sweet smile, and says, “I know where they went.” Laughing, the tortured punctuation abruptly forgotten, she runs ahead to catch up with the others. Kaylee watches her go. Even the way she runs is graceful, the lithe action of a born dancer. Her hair is loose, as it always is, and it streams out behind her, brown waves touched with deep gold in the bright sunlight.
Kaylee looks at Simon. He’s still watching his sister run, looking thoughtful.
He is absorbed.
* * *
5.
She could ask him to tea. There’s a nice shop here; she’s been there often, and the Chinese proprietress knows her and won’t be embarrassing if Kaylee comes to tea with a man.
It would be nice.
He’s been under a lot of strain lately. River has been worse than usual; he’s still adjusting medication, trying to stabilize, to retrieve. It’s been difficult. She can say she thought he might like to… what? Relax?
Get away from River?
It’s a cruel thing to put so bluntly. Especially because it sounds more like what she wants and less like what he wants.
Except that she loves River. It isn’t, truly, that she wants River away. River can be so bright, so captivating.
So much fun to play with.
So broken it hurts to listen to her. So torn she opens her eyes screaming and doesn’t wake. So bewilderingly, invisibly maimed.
River absorbs him.
Kaylee thinks that because Simon has given up everything for River, it’s right for River to be everything to him.
She forgets once in a while, though, when they’re laughing at the dinner table or talking in the lounge. She starts to wish she could laugh with Simon always.
She doesn’t ask him to tea.
* * *
6.
He’s dabbing disinfectant on his finger and hissing when she pokes her head into the infirmary.
“What happened?” she asks. He jumps and turns toward her, looking somehow guilty and shifting to more completely block the counter behind him.
“I, ah. I cut myself.” She waits. He does not elaborate. She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, I see. I never would’ve realised if you hadn’t told me.” She’s grinning to soften the sarcasm. “I can see you cut yourself, genius. What’d you cut yourself on?” She comes over to him and peers at his wound; he shifts again, slightly, to keep her from seeing the counter. “That’s a funny sort of a cut.” Awaiting a response, she looks up into his face, realizes how close she is standing, and takes a small step backward. He looks uncomfortable for a moment more before speaking.
“It was just… silly. They were right there, growing wild by the road, so I thought I… but there were thorns, of course, and I thought I could avoid them, but obviously I was mistaken.” He applies a bandage ruefully as he speaks. “And the thorns are unusually big,” he adds defensively, finally looking at her again.
She is patient. “Simon. What are you talking about?”
He closes his eyes briefly, then turns to retrieve the object on the counter.
“Here. I picked you a rose.”
The thorns aren’t so hard to avoid if you pay attention.
Title: That Girl
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 1335
Pairings: Kaylee/Simon, Simon+River (platonic)
Note: I couldn't work in Marble Slab; it just didn't fit. I got everything else, though.
1.
Mongolian BBQ. It was Jayne’s idea. Normally they don’t go with Jayne’s ideas because they tend to involve a lot of ostentatious shooting of things, and that could get a person noticed. Arrested. But sometimes Jayne’s ideas are right useful, like when copious firearms use and not much subterfuge are called for, or they need somewhere to eat and he knows the town best.
“Don’t get soda,” he warns once they’re seated. Simon raises his eyebrows.
“Why not?”
Jayne looks consideringly at Simon for a moment. “Y’know what? Forget I said anything. You go ahead and get soda if you’re so set on it.” The doctor looks bemused.
“Well, I wasn’t, but now I’m curious.”
Simon orders soda. Everyone else orders tea.
Kaylee sits next to Simon. She notices he’s finished his drink; the food hasn’t even arrived yet. He notices her looking at his glass.
“It tasted fine; I don’t know why he warned us off.”
The first dish arrives. Shortly after everyone has begun to eat, there is a mad scramble for the teapot. Simon joins in, forgetting that he doesn’t have a teacup. His hand bumps Kaylee’s. She can’t help glancing at him. He can’t help glancing at her.
They look away immediately. Kaylee draws back her hand and drops her eyes, cheeks flushing. Jayne fills her teacup for her.
Simon pleads with the waitress, but her English is terrible and her Chinese nearly as bad, and she is implacable.
“No refill, no refill! Sorry!” Eventually he manages to persuade her to bring him a teacup.
* * *
2.
She’s been in the engine room all afternoon. Before dinner she goes to her room to change and wash up. On the way, she passes Simon in the corridor and smiles in greeting. He’s on his way to the infirmary; his shirt is pristine, deep slate blue accenting the grey-blue of his eyes; hair smooth, trousers creased.
She is instantly aware that her blouse and pants are covered with grease, her hair is everywhere except in the braids she put it in this morning, and her face is smudged.
He smiles back, but she’s looking at the floor now and doesn’t see it.
* * *
3.
It can’t be helped; Kaylee is a romantic. Truthfully, it’s her dearest charm. Impossible not to love her.
She doesn’t know that, of course. She’d be less charming if she knew, maybe. But she is innocent.
Impossible for her not to love.
She thinks about it sometimes, when she’s alone. What things would be like if she could be with Simon. No harm in just thinking.
It would help a bit, maybe, if they weren’t both wanted fugitives and could settle somewhere. Or maybe it wouldn’t. After all, that was the reason they met in the first place. And she doesn’t really mind wandering. They’ve been wandering for some while now, and she’s been happy, because she can be with Serenity and her crew and her captain.
She thinks she’d be happy if she could always be with Simon.
Then she’ll come out of her dreaming and go find him, and he will be with his sister.
The reason behind the reason.
Today, River is insisting that she has discovered the cause of gravity. She is vehement. Simon has her face in his hands and is explaining that oranges, being spherical, are not therefore necessarily relevant to the argument.
He is absorbed.
Kaylee turns in the doorway and goes to Inara’s shuttle instead.
* * *
4.
One misplaced comma is enough to set River off.
She suffers Jayne because he is crew, though she corrects his spelling and grammar on the notes he leaves on the fridge. The butchering of language by strangers, however, she will not countenance.
They are passing a sign that reads, “Mama’s Bakery: try our cannoli we know you will love them, they are delicious and cheap!” Her face hardens, brows drawing together, mouth settling into a displeased half-pout.
“Simon?” She plucks at his sleeve. “Simon, they’re abusing the comma.”
“What… where? Meimei, what are you talking about?” She points.
“That sign. It hurts. I can hear it screaming.” He’s facing the right way now; she edges behind his shoulder. “There should be a law. They shouldn’t be allowed.”
Kaylee watches with interest. She hadn’t really noticed that the sign was wrong. Simon turns toward his sister.
“Look, it’s just a comma. I don’t hear any screaming, River.” She gazes up at him, still troubled.
“But it isn’t just the comma,” she explains carefully, as to a slow pupil. “There has to be a period, and there’s a semicolon missing, too. It’s cruel, don’t you see?” Simon is at a loss. Her argument is running squiggly again, the way most of her logic does now. He isn’t sure what to say.
Then River smiles suddenly, that pure, impossibly sweet smile, and says, “I know where they went.” Laughing, the tortured punctuation abruptly forgotten, she runs ahead to catch up with the others. Kaylee watches her go. Even the way she runs is graceful, the lithe action of a born dancer. Her hair is loose, as it always is, and it streams out behind her, brown waves touched with deep gold in the bright sunlight.
Kaylee looks at Simon. He’s still watching his sister run, looking thoughtful.
He is absorbed.
* * *
5.
She could ask him to tea. There’s a nice shop here; she’s been there often, and the Chinese proprietress knows her and won’t be embarrassing if Kaylee comes to tea with a man.
It would be nice.
He’s been under a lot of strain lately. River has been worse than usual; he’s still adjusting medication, trying to stabilize, to retrieve. It’s been difficult. She can say she thought he might like to… what? Relax?
Get away from River?
It’s a cruel thing to put so bluntly. Especially because it sounds more like what she wants and less like what he wants.
Except that she loves River. It isn’t, truly, that she wants River away. River can be so bright, so captivating.
So much fun to play with.
So broken it hurts to listen to her. So torn she opens her eyes screaming and doesn’t wake. So bewilderingly, invisibly maimed.
River absorbs him.
Kaylee thinks that because Simon has given up everything for River, it’s right for River to be everything to him.
She forgets once in a while, though, when they’re laughing at the dinner table or talking in the lounge. She starts to wish she could laugh with Simon always.
She doesn’t ask him to tea.
* * *
6.
He’s dabbing disinfectant on his finger and hissing when she pokes her head into the infirmary.
“What happened?” she asks. He jumps and turns toward her, looking somehow guilty and shifting to more completely block the counter behind him.
“I, ah. I cut myself.” She waits. He does not elaborate. She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, I see. I never would’ve realised if you hadn’t told me.” She’s grinning to soften the sarcasm. “I can see you cut yourself, genius. What’d you cut yourself on?” She comes over to him and peers at his wound; he shifts again, slightly, to keep her from seeing the counter. “That’s a funny sort of a cut.” Awaiting a response, she looks up into his face, realizes how close she is standing, and takes a small step backward. He looks uncomfortable for a moment more before speaking.
“It was just… silly. They were right there, growing wild by the road, so I thought I… but there were thorns, of course, and I thought I could avoid them, but obviously I was mistaken.” He applies a bandage ruefully as he speaks. “And the thorns are unusually big,” he adds defensively, finally looking at her again.
She is patient. “Simon. What are you talking about?”
He closes his eyes briefly, then turns to retrieve the object on the counter.
“Here. I picked you a rose.”
The thorns aren’t so hard to avoid if you pay attention.