Learning to Fly, Part V
HURRAY for the grand tradition of Nina posting her stories at Ungodly Hour of the Morning When She Has Stuff to Do Early the Next Day™! (Yes, it's taken awhile. I'm back at school and havin' a blast. Mostly.)
Title: Learning to Fly
Author: ninamazing, or Nina
Chapter: Five. Previous chapters located here.
Word Count: 1343.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 to light R.
Pairings/Characters: Mal/River. The OTP of Hot.
Spoilers: Large, for both Serenity and the River Tam Sessions.
Summary: River and Mal are truly, brutally, completely honest with each other. Also, River does fun things with a Chinese yo-yo!
Excerpt: "Thanks, Captain," she told him, smiling, sashaying in place a little bit with her hands twined behind her back. "But I understand. I'm a weapon. No touching."
He found her in the cargo bay, standing on top of a box with a Chinese yo-yo.
"Kaylee bought it for me," she explained even before he started down the stairs. He nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him yet, knowing she would understand.
As he approached her he found himself mesmerized by the hourglass-shaped piece of wood, balanced in a loop of string. Her hands danced in perfect rhythm, and her eyes were wide and fixed on the yo-yo. She twisted back the string if it fell forward, and forward if it fell back, keeping it evenly spinning. When it finally began to hum through its holes, her whole face lit up, and she whirled it even faster, the pitch of the noise rising almost imperceptibly. Mal had once been this good, as a ten-year-old, but he had always let it fall, and run off to do something else.
Not River. She let the tone ring out, and gradually slowed down the spin, letting her right hand whip less and less frequently until the yo-yo was moving gently enough for her to set on top of the box without making a sound.
River stepped down noiselessly, staring at Mal with her steady eyes. He reached his hands up for hers, and though he knew she didn't need them she grabbed them anyway.
"And so slippers of iron were prepared and heated until they were red-hot, and the Queen was forced to dance in them until she dropped dead," River told Mal. She was so solemn that he didn't dare embrace her, but every muscle in his body itched to.
It didn't register at first that she was talking nonsense, but once it did Mal was frightened. Her sense of whimsy didn't usually bother him, but the last time she had spoken shen mi was because he had hurt her. You betrayed her and you couldn't love her couldn't love her shot through his mind, and he swallowed, as if that would keep it all back -- wanted so badly to be worthy of her.
He dropped her hands, and found his voice. "River -- ah -- there's somethin' I've been meaning to say," he began, "just so's you know."
She looked up at him curiously. Once he spoke, she seemed lucid enough.
"I'd never," he said loudly, and corrected himself -- too strong. "I'd never hurt you. I ain't never planned on hurting you. Even if you --" He cleared his throat again. "It's crossed my mind, but not in a killin' way," he finished, "an' I'd never do it."
"Thanks, Captain," she told him, smiling, sashaying in place a little bit with her hands twined behind her back. "But I understand. I'm a weapon. No touching."
No, there is touching, lots of touching, and his hands and arms rushed forward so fast that he plugged them behind his back so that they couldn't move.
"Talked to Simon," she said, looking at the floor. "Said you're dangerous. Just makes you seem softer." She smiled up at him again, in that beguiling way. If he hadn't just seen it he could have sworn she didn't have a weakness.
"Your brother might have a point there, little one --"
"I'm not little and I'm not a one," River shot back. Mal almost backed away from her; he reckoned he'd been dead right when he told Simon she was gettin' good at speaking for herself.
"River, do you --" he began, not sure what he wanted to say. "Because I --"
He couldn't say anything, so he just stared at her, and she looked as confused as he did by what was in his mind. River's face was scrunched into a frown, but the rest of her body was taut, braced to spring. Did she ever relax? Mal found himself fighting off more urges, old visions and familiar dreams coming back: he wanted to smooth her hair, tell her stories, threaten to kill men for looking at her, and Mal was sick of fighting himself when he loved a woman and sick of holding all his happiness inside where it festered and did nobody any kind of good.
"I'm not reading, Captain," she said finally, her face now clear. Her eyes were impassive, and she was beautiful, Mal thought; they were in the cargo bay and she was beautiful, his ship was called Serenity and she was beautiful, something terrible had happened so many times but they had survived and she was beautiful, and she was beautiful, and she hadn't intended it or noticed it but a little wavy strand of dark and gorgeous hair had slipped loose and now it hung across her face, kissing her cheek; her fingers looked skilled and sexy like they always had, and everything about her glowed because he had snapped and given up and was now allowing himself to see.
"I can control myself. A little. I'm not reading," she repeated. Her eyes were looking straight at him, and he could face right back into them with his own. The last time it had been this electric one of his eyes was bleeding red and he was gorram sure he was gonna have to watch her get slaughtered by some niao shi de du gui Feds.
"I want you to tell me what you see," she continued in almost a whisper -- it was the first time she had showed that she was nervous, but Mal already knew.
"I think -- I --"
She waited.
"River, I sure as hell don't want to offer you anything you can't use, but I'm -- if you ever want to -- I could be with you," and finally it was out.
River Tam smiled at him, looking so much like the girl who had sat in her fancy Core university library studying physics papers, and at the same time the warrior with an empty room who wore borrowed clothes and was only happy when her feet were as grubby as a factory worker on Canton. She was the woman who had kept Mal and his crew alive and never questioned him, not once, always doing exactly what he needed even before he knew he needed it.
At this moment, she stood on his boots with her toes, and arched up her face until she fit perfectly below him, until it was stupid not to kiss her. Their mouths clung to each other and his arms crushed her lithe body into his weathered one, the sweetness overcoming them, their breath mingling into one relieved sigh. Mal was all at once more afraid than he'd ever been of anything or anyone, but he wanted to dance and laugh and he was pretty gorram sure he wouldn't even need booze to do it. He held her desperately, carefully, as if she might break; his every protective instict ballooned into one when he felt her against him and realized that this was the one serenity he needed to keep forever.
"Mal," she crooned, "Mal," and he felt a calm he hadn't sensed since the last time he'd kissed his cross. This woman was burying her face in his shirt, grabbing his suspenders; this woman was his; this woman was nuzzling his neck and using her tongue all of a sudden and for the first time in seven years his mind screamed God, God, God, what have I done that brought me this, what have I done.
Even River forgot that someone else might come, but God wouldn't abandon them that quickly. No one found them, and when they broke apart it was with much softening of kisses and whispered promises. Their hands touched. Nothing was wrong. They were co-pilots of a ship they loved and right there amid her cold steel gratings they had lapped each other up and completed the circle that began the day they met.
I'll do it, darlin'. This time I'll do it right. This time I ain't gonna fail.
It was a belief Mal was willing to die for.
Title: Learning to Fly
Author: ninamazing, or Nina
Chapter: Five. Previous chapters located here.
Word Count: 1343.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 to light R.
Pairings/Characters: Mal/River. The OTP of Hot.
Spoilers: Large, for both Serenity and the River Tam Sessions.
Summary: River and Mal are truly, brutally, completely honest with each other. Also, River does fun things with a Chinese yo-yo!
Excerpt: "Thanks, Captain," she told him, smiling, sashaying in place a little bit with her hands twined behind her back. "But I understand. I'm a weapon. No touching."
He found her in the cargo bay, standing on top of a box with a Chinese yo-yo.
"Kaylee bought it for me," she explained even before he started down the stairs. He nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him yet, knowing she would understand.
As he approached her he found himself mesmerized by the hourglass-shaped piece of wood, balanced in a loop of string. Her hands danced in perfect rhythm, and her eyes were wide and fixed on the yo-yo. She twisted back the string if it fell forward, and forward if it fell back, keeping it evenly spinning. When it finally began to hum through its holes, her whole face lit up, and she whirled it even faster, the pitch of the noise rising almost imperceptibly. Mal had once been this good, as a ten-year-old, but he had always let it fall, and run off to do something else.
Not River. She let the tone ring out, and gradually slowed down the spin, letting her right hand whip less and less frequently until the yo-yo was moving gently enough for her to set on top of the box without making a sound.
River stepped down noiselessly, staring at Mal with her steady eyes. He reached his hands up for hers, and though he knew she didn't need them she grabbed them anyway.
"And so slippers of iron were prepared and heated until they were red-hot, and the Queen was forced to dance in them until she dropped dead," River told Mal. She was so solemn that he didn't dare embrace her, but every muscle in his body itched to.
It didn't register at first that she was talking nonsense, but once it did Mal was frightened. Her sense of whimsy didn't usually bother him, but the last time she had spoken shen mi was because he had hurt her. You betrayed her and you couldn't love her couldn't love her shot through his mind, and he swallowed, as if that would keep it all back -- wanted so badly to be worthy of her.
He dropped her hands, and found his voice. "River -- ah -- there's somethin' I've been meaning to say," he began, "just so's you know."
She looked up at him curiously. Once he spoke, she seemed lucid enough.
"I'd never," he said loudly, and corrected himself -- too strong. "I'd never hurt you. I ain't never planned on hurting you. Even if you --" He cleared his throat again. "It's crossed my mind, but not in a killin' way," he finished, "an' I'd never do it."
"Thanks, Captain," she told him, smiling, sashaying in place a little bit with her hands twined behind her back. "But I understand. I'm a weapon. No touching."
No, there is touching, lots of touching, and his hands and arms rushed forward so fast that he plugged them behind his back so that they couldn't move.
"Talked to Simon," she said, looking at the floor. "Said you're dangerous. Just makes you seem softer." She smiled up at him again, in that beguiling way. If he hadn't just seen it he could have sworn she didn't have a weakness.
"Your brother might have a point there, little one --"
"I'm not little and I'm not a one," River shot back. Mal almost backed away from her; he reckoned he'd been dead right when he told Simon she was gettin' good at speaking for herself.
"River, do you --" he began, not sure what he wanted to say. "Because I --"
He couldn't say anything, so he just stared at her, and she looked as confused as he did by what was in his mind. River's face was scrunched into a frown, but the rest of her body was taut, braced to spring. Did she ever relax? Mal found himself fighting off more urges, old visions and familiar dreams coming back: he wanted to smooth her hair, tell her stories, threaten to kill men for looking at her, and Mal was sick of fighting himself when he loved a woman and sick of holding all his happiness inside where it festered and did nobody any kind of good.
"I'm not reading, Captain," she said finally, her face now clear. Her eyes were impassive, and she was beautiful, Mal thought; they were in the cargo bay and she was beautiful, his ship was called Serenity and she was beautiful, something terrible had happened so many times but they had survived and she was beautiful, and she was beautiful, and she hadn't intended it or noticed it but a little wavy strand of dark and gorgeous hair had slipped loose and now it hung across her face, kissing her cheek; her fingers looked skilled and sexy like they always had, and everything about her glowed because he had snapped and given up and was now allowing himself to see.
"I can control myself. A little. I'm not reading," she repeated. Her eyes were looking straight at him, and he could face right back into them with his own. The last time it had been this electric one of his eyes was bleeding red and he was gorram sure he was gonna have to watch her get slaughtered by some niao shi de du gui Feds.
"I want you to tell me what you see," she continued in almost a whisper -- it was the first time she had showed that she was nervous, but Mal already knew.
"I think -- I --"
She waited.
"River, I sure as hell don't want to offer you anything you can't use, but I'm -- if you ever want to -- I could be with you," and finally it was out.
River Tam smiled at him, looking so much like the girl who had sat in her fancy Core university library studying physics papers, and at the same time the warrior with an empty room who wore borrowed clothes and was only happy when her feet were as grubby as a factory worker on Canton. She was the woman who had kept Mal and his crew alive and never questioned him, not once, always doing exactly what he needed even before he knew he needed it.
At this moment, she stood on his boots with her toes, and arched up her face until she fit perfectly below him, until it was stupid not to kiss her. Their mouths clung to each other and his arms crushed her lithe body into his weathered one, the sweetness overcoming them, their breath mingling into one relieved sigh. Mal was all at once more afraid than he'd ever been of anything or anyone, but he wanted to dance and laugh and he was pretty gorram sure he wouldn't even need booze to do it. He held her desperately, carefully, as if she might break; his every protective instict ballooned into one when he felt her against him and realized that this was the one serenity he needed to keep forever.
"Mal," she crooned, "Mal," and he felt a calm he hadn't sensed since the last time he'd kissed his cross. This woman was burying her face in his shirt, grabbing his suspenders; this woman was his; this woman was nuzzling his neck and using her tongue all of a sudden and for the first time in seven years his mind screamed God, God, God, what have I done that brought me this, what have I done.
Even River forgot that someone else might come, but God wouldn't abandon them that quickly. No one found them, and when they broke apart it was with much softening of kisses and whispered promises. Their hands touched. Nothing was wrong. They were co-pilots of a ship they loved and right there amid her cold steel gratings they had lapped each other up and completed the circle that began the day they met.
I'll do it, darlin'. This time I'll do it right. This time I ain't gonna fail.
It was a belief Mal was willing to die for.