fic: eight times river dreamed/spoke/rhymed in color and two times mal understood her [3/8]
Title: Eight Times River Dreamed/Spoke/Rhymed in Color and Two Times Mal Understood Her (3/8)
Author: wildalyss
Claim: 1: River & Mal
Prompts: #03: purple (theme02), #03: liar (gen09), #05: brown (theme02), #05: early (gen09)
Rating: PG
Summary: River and Mal have a series of discussions while aboard Serenity.
Disclaimer: Firefly is property of Joss Whedon.
Author Notes: A Gen fic, about River and Mal ; Haven’t written Firefly in so long but here it goes. Feedback is helpful! Let me know what you guys think
The first time Mal feels sleep come for him it's early in the 'verse. He dreams in that semi-awake, semi-sleep state in only purple. Bright fluorescent purple that makes him wish he wasn’t asleep at all.
“Liar” he hears behind him. In the reflection of space he sees River behind him.
“You said you were sleeping.” She glides over and sits in the chair next to him, right at the helm of space.
“No rest for the wicked.” He mutters as his eyes close again. No more purple, now sepia like those old movies he saw as a kid about Earth-That-Was.
“But you aren’t wicked.” She defends him against himself. “Wash said you were like Robin, only you didn’t wear tights or practice archery.”
Wash, always telling stories.
“That I don’t, little girl, that I don’t”
Author: wildalyss
Claim: 1: River & Mal
Prompts: #03: purple (theme02), #03: liar (gen09), #05: brown (theme02), #05: early (gen09)
Rating: PG
Summary: River and Mal have a series of discussions while aboard Serenity.
Disclaimer: Firefly is property of Joss Whedon.
Author Notes: A Gen fic, about River and Mal ; Haven’t written Firefly in so long but here it goes. Feedback is helpful! Let me know what you guys think
The first time Mal feels sleep come for him it's early in the 'verse. He dreams in that semi-awake, semi-sleep state in only purple. Bright fluorescent purple that makes him wish he wasn’t asleep at all.
“Liar” he hears behind him. In the reflection of space he sees River behind him.
“You said you were sleeping.” She glides over and sits in the chair next to him, right at the helm of space.
“No rest for the wicked.” He mutters as his eyes close again. No more purple, now sepia like those old movies he saw as a kid about Earth-That-Was.
“But you aren’t wicked.” She defends him against himself. “Wash said you were like Robin, only you didn’t wear tights or practice archery.”
Wash, always telling stories.
“That I don’t, little girl, that I don’t”