Firefly shortfic
I should really get myself a Firefly icon at some point, maybe.
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, not mine. Whedon's, and other peoples'.
TITLE: Pumpkins and Glass
AUTHOR: Icepixie
SPOILERS: "Shindig"
RATING: G
PAIRING: G for gen! Man, I never write genfic. Awesome.
SUMMARY: Kaylee and the dress.
NOTES: Thanks to tarzanic, my enabler, for the beta!
* * *
I.
Kaylee is contemplating what horrible thing to put in Mal's food at dinner when the man himself comes into her engine room.
"I'm not speaking to you, Captain," she tells him, sticking some wires back into place.
"Got no need to speak. Come on. Got a job for you," he replies, obviously expecting her to hop to.
Kaylee thinks about ignoring him, but her good side wins out, as it always does. She gets out from under the engine and meets Mal at the entrance to the room. She crosses her arms and does not speak.
Mal puts on his conciliatory face. Kaylee recognizes it from many missions gone wrong. "Kaylee, you and I have...well, we haven't exactly been 'invited,' but close enough to...anyway, there's a big, fancy party down on Persephone tonight, and we're going."
The squeal is out of her mouth before she remembers she's not speaking to him. "A big party with dancin' and everything? Really?"
Mal is enjoying at her excitement. "Yes, Kaylee, a real big shindig."
Kaylee claps her hands together once and bounces on the balls of her feet. A sly smile begins to cross her face. "But Cap'n...I don't have anything to wear to a fancy party."
He sees right through her, and for once, he's powerless in the face of her revenge. He makes a face. Kaylee's smile grows wider. "You sure pink and frilly is really what you want?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighs. "All right. Go on and get it." She's way ahead of him. He calls to her retreating back, "Be ready to go by seven thirty!"
* * *
The dress shop is cool and dark after the dust and hot sun of mid-afternoon on Persephone. Kaylee stands still a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimness.
"May I help you?" a voice asks from her right in the cultured accent of the Core worlds. Kaylee turns to find an thin, middle-aged woman in an impeccably tailored skirt and blouse standing a few feet away. She feels the tiniest bit out of her element here but forges on ahead. "I'd like to try on the pink dress you have in the window."
The woman smiles and nods. "Right this way." She leads Kaylee further into the depths of the store, to a rack holding at least a dozen of the pink dresses. Kaylee's mouth drops open at the multitude. Her mother made almost all of her clothing at home, barring a few imports the Walters' store sometimes got in stock, and Kaylee hasn't had much money for clothes since she left.
"What size, miss?" The woman has to ask twice before Kaylee hears.
She flounders a bit. "Oh, I, um, I'm not real sure if these sizes are the same as worksuits--what would you recommend?"
The woman's face is carefully neutral. She selects one of the dresses and carefully lays it in Kaylee's outstretched arms. "Why don't you try this one?"
* * *
She skips dinner to get ready, which her stomach reminds her might not be the best idea, but maybe there'll be food at the party. Zoe helps put her hair up with the pink ribbon Kaylee bought today along with the dress, and loans her a dying tube of lipstick--she says it's not her color, but it'll have to do. Kaylee doesn't even notice what color it is; she is too caught up in feeling like a princess as she rustles across the floor in all that silk. The fabric brushes whisper-soft against her skin, sending little shivers up her back. Zoe pronounces her adorable, then leads the way out of the mess. (Even Kaylee had to admit there was no way she was getting up the ladder from her room in that dress.)
She has a little trouble fitting through the door in that skirt, but the metal structure underneath is surprisingly flexible, and she makes it through the ship without any mishaps.
Kaylee arrives at the cargo bay at exactly seven thirty. The whole crew is there to greet her and Mal. Audible gasps of appreciation rise up when she enters, most especially from Simon, Kaylee notes. Jayne gets out half a catcall before Mal's hand is over his mouth. He says something Kaylee doesn't catch, but Jayne seems to take it to heart: he merely gives her what passes for a non-lecherous grin, from him, instead of making any vocal remarks. Book comes up to her and kisses her on the cheek. "You look lovely, sweetheart," he says.
Even River seems to like Kaylee's dress. As Kaylee moves further into the group to get to Mal's side, she reaches out a tentative hand and fingers the stiff tulle and sleek silk. "Pretty," she murmurs.
When she reaches Mal, he's already wearing his soft paternal smile. He strokes her cheek gently. "My girl cleans up good," he says.
She can't resist teasing him. "So you don't think I look like a sheep up on my hind legs, then?"
"Kaylee, I--" he breaks off when he sees the gleam in her eyes. "Okay, I suppose I deserved that." He snorts softly. "You should know not to pay me no nevermind when I say things like that, anyway." She grins at him, and all is forgiven.
Mal speaks to the rest of the crew. "Well, this lovely lady and myself have a party to get to. So don't get into any trouble while we're gone, and with any luck, we'll come back with a some cargo."
"Hope so," someone says, and everyone wishes them a good night. Kaylee takes Mal's arm, and they walk out into the warm night.
* * *
II.
The party is bigger and more elaborate than she ever could have imagined. The revolving chandelier is only the first of many pretties that catch her eye. As she had hoped, there *is* food at the party, and so much of it! Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers that they're here to meet up with someone who will, theoretically, pay them money, but it's easy to convince Mal that the buffet table needs "questioning." The strawberries need an especially thorough interrogation.
With the exception of the snooty girls she runs into at first, Kaylee has a better time than she can remember having in a long time. She's never been able to wear a beautiful dress, listen to fancy music, eat strawberries, *and* talk about her beloved engines to people who were truly interested all at once before, and she hopes it takes Mal a good long time to find this Warrick fellow.
When the punching and shouting starts, she knows without looking who's behind it, and she mentally says goodbye to her evening at the fancy ball. There was some Earth That Was tale about this kind of situation, she remembers...something about a pumpkin and a glass shoe, but the result was the same. She knows Mal undoubtedly had a good reason to hit the arrogant-looking young man currently laying on the floor, but she can't help but feel a little regretful that she didn't even get to dance.
* * *
III.
The day after the party, Kaylee comes to the conclusion that the dress just will not fit into what passes for a closet in her quarters. She's going to have to find some place to stow it, though, where it won't get messed up.
Kaylee briefly holds the dress up to her body and does a few tiny, experimental twirls in the cramped space of her room. On the one hand, she would have liked to be part of the swirling river of color on the ballroom floor. On the other...well, she only knows one or two steps from the waltzes and minuets everyone was dancing. Maybe she should study up before her next big party. Maybe her captain could teach her; Mal is apparently quite the dancer, she thinks, giggling a bit as she remembers the glimpses she got of him dancing with Inara, both of them looking so intent on each other.
The dress truly is the prettiest thing she's ever owned, and she'd like to just...bask in it for at least a few more days. She comes to a stop facing the wall above the foot of her bed, and the blank space there gives her an idea.
She asked Book earlier about the story she remembered, and he gave her the gist of it. The parallels were still there, but Kaylee is no Cinderella--after all, she gets to keep the dress. Gorramed if it didn't stay just as pretty as ever, and that's good enough for her.
Fin
DISCLAIMER: Yeah, not mine. Whedon's, and other peoples'.
TITLE: Pumpkins and Glass
AUTHOR: Icepixie
SPOILERS: "Shindig"
RATING: G
PAIRING: G for gen! Man, I never write genfic. Awesome.
SUMMARY: Kaylee and the dress.
NOTES: Thanks to tarzanic, my enabler, for the beta!
* * *
I.
Kaylee is contemplating what horrible thing to put in Mal's food at dinner when the man himself comes into her engine room.
"I'm not speaking to you, Captain," she tells him, sticking some wires back into place.
"Got no need to speak. Come on. Got a job for you," he replies, obviously expecting her to hop to.
Kaylee thinks about ignoring him, but her good side wins out, as it always does. She gets out from under the engine and meets Mal at the entrance to the room. She crosses her arms and does not speak.
Mal puts on his conciliatory face. Kaylee recognizes it from many missions gone wrong. "Kaylee, you and I have...well, we haven't exactly been 'invited,' but close enough to...anyway, there's a big, fancy party down on Persephone tonight, and we're going."
The squeal is out of her mouth before she remembers she's not speaking to him. "A big party with dancin' and everything? Really?"
Mal is enjoying at her excitement. "Yes, Kaylee, a real big shindig."
Kaylee claps her hands together once and bounces on the balls of her feet. A sly smile begins to cross her face. "But Cap'n...I don't have anything to wear to a fancy party."
He sees right through her, and for once, he's powerless in the face of her revenge. He makes a face. Kaylee's smile grows wider. "You sure pink and frilly is really what you want?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighs. "All right. Go on and get it." She's way ahead of him. He calls to her retreating back, "Be ready to go by seven thirty!"
* * *
The dress shop is cool and dark after the dust and hot sun of mid-afternoon on Persephone. Kaylee stands still a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimness.
"May I help you?" a voice asks from her right in the cultured accent of the Core worlds. Kaylee turns to find an thin, middle-aged woman in an impeccably tailored skirt and blouse standing a few feet away. She feels the tiniest bit out of her element here but forges on ahead. "I'd like to try on the pink dress you have in the window."
The woman smiles and nods. "Right this way." She leads Kaylee further into the depths of the store, to a rack holding at least a dozen of the pink dresses. Kaylee's mouth drops open at the multitude. Her mother made almost all of her clothing at home, barring a few imports the Walters' store sometimes got in stock, and Kaylee hasn't had much money for clothes since she left.
"What size, miss?" The woman has to ask twice before Kaylee hears.
She flounders a bit. "Oh, I, um, I'm not real sure if these sizes are the same as worksuits--what would you recommend?"
The woman's face is carefully neutral. She selects one of the dresses and carefully lays it in Kaylee's outstretched arms. "Why don't you try this one?"
* * *
She skips dinner to get ready, which her stomach reminds her might not be the best idea, but maybe there'll be food at the party. Zoe helps put her hair up with the pink ribbon Kaylee bought today along with the dress, and loans her a dying tube of lipstick--she says it's not her color, but it'll have to do. Kaylee doesn't even notice what color it is; she is too caught up in feeling like a princess as she rustles across the floor in all that silk. The fabric brushes whisper-soft against her skin, sending little shivers up her back. Zoe pronounces her adorable, then leads the way out of the mess. (Even Kaylee had to admit there was no way she was getting up the ladder from her room in that dress.)
She has a little trouble fitting through the door in that skirt, but the metal structure underneath is surprisingly flexible, and she makes it through the ship without any mishaps.
Kaylee arrives at the cargo bay at exactly seven thirty. The whole crew is there to greet her and Mal. Audible gasps of appreciation rise up when she enters, most especially from Simon, Kaylee notes. Jayne gets out half a catcall before Mal's hand is over his mouth. He says something Kaylee doesn't catch, but Jayne seems to take it to heart: he merely gives her what passes for a non-lecherous grin, from him, instead of making any vocal remarks. Book comes up to her and kisses her on the cheek. "You look lovely, sweetheart," he says.
Even River seems to like Kaylee's dress. As Kaylee moves further into the group to get to Mal's side, she reaches out a tentative hand and fingers the stiff tulle and sleek silk. "Pretty," she murmurs.
When she reaches Mal, he's already wearing his soft paternal smile. He strokes her cheek gently. "My girl cleans up good," he says.
She can't resist teasing him. "So you don't think I look like a sheep up on my hind legs, then?"
"Kaylee, I--" he breaks off when he sees the gleam in her eyes. "Okay, I suppose I deserved that." He snorts softly. "You should know not to pay me no nevermind when I say things like that, anyway." She grins at him, and all is forgiven.
Mal speaks to the rest of the crew. "Well, this lovely lady and myself have a party to get to. So don't get into any trouble while we're gone, and with any luck, we'll come back with a some cargo."
"Hope so," someone says, and everyone wishes them a good night. Kaylee takes Mal's arm, and they walk out into the warm night.
* * *
II.
The party is bigger and more elaborate than she ever could have imagined. The revolving chandelier is only the first of many pretties that catch her eye. As she had hoped, there *is* food at the party, and so much of it! Somewhere in the back of her mind, she remembers that they're here to meet up with someone who will, theoretically, pay them money, but it's easy to convince Mal that the buffet table needs "questioning." The strawberries need an especially thorough interrogation.
With the exception of the snooty girls she runs into at first, Kaylee has a better time than she can remember having in a long time. She's never been able to wear a beautiful dress, listen to fancy music, eat strawberries, *and* talk about her beloved engines to people who were truly interested all at once before, and she hopes it takes Mal a good long time to find this Warrick fellow.
When the punching and shouting starts, she knows without looking who's behind it, and she mentally says goodbye to her evening at the fancy ball. There was some Earth That Was tale about this kind of situation, she remembers...something about a pumpkin and a glass shoe, but the result was the same. She knows Mal undoubtedly had a good reason to hit the arrogant-looking young man currently laying on the floor, but she can't help but feel a little regretful that she didn't even get to dance.
* * *
III.
The day after the party, Kaylee comes to the conclusion that the dress just will not fit into what passes for a closet in her quarters. She's going to have to find some place to stow it, though, where it won't get messed up.
Kaylee briefly holds the dress up to her body and does a few tiny, experimental twirls in the cramped space of her room. On the one hand, she would have liked to be part of the swirling river of color on the ballroom floor. On the other...well, she only knows one or two steps from the waltzes and minuets everyone was dancing. Maybe she should study up before her next big party. Maybe her captain could teach her; Mal is apparently quite the dancer, she thinks, giggling a bit as she remembers the glimpses she got of him dancing with Inara, both of them looking so intent on each other.
The dress truly is the prettiest thing she's ever owned, and she'd like to just...bask in it for at least a few more days. She comes to a stop facing the wall above the foot of her bed, and the blank space there gives her an idea.
She asked Book earlier about the story she remembered, and he gave her the gist of it. The parallels were still there, but Kaylee is no Cinderella--after all, she gets to keep the dress. Gorramed if it didn't stay just as pretty as ever, and that's good enough for her.
Fin