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whiskeycoffee2006-09-19 09:28 pm
mjules.livejournal.com) wrote in whiskeycoffee2006-09-19 09:28 pm
Entry tags:
FIC: "Broke" (Firefly, 1/1, Mal/Kaylee, Mal/River)
Title: Broke
Author: m.jules
Disclaimer: Joss’s. No money. Just love.
Spoilers: Series only.
Summary: "Sometimes something gets broke, it can't be fixed."
Timeline: After “Objects In Space” - before the comics/movie.
Pairing(s): Mal/Kaylee, with some mention of Mal/River and Mal/Inara.
Author’s Notes: This got started from watching “Out of Gas” and “Ariel” back to back. I’m still not sure how happy I am with the story on the whole, but I like my concepts. I just don’t know if I’ve woven them together well enough. This goes out to Molly, who wanted some Mal/Kaylee.
BROKE
He thought about Kaylee at times like this. Thought about how glad he was that she was onboard Serenity -- how much he loved that she loved the ship, how damn embarrassingly grateful he was that she loved him.
Of all the things he had to worry about going wrong, he never worried about Kaylee doing anything that would cause trouble. That was why, when he found out what Jubal Early had done to her, he’d sworn that if the man survived his safari through deep space that River had so kindly arranged, he wouldn’t survive his next meeting with Mal.
Kaylee was innocent. She wasn’t naive and she sure as hell wasn’t a virgin, but she was pure in her own way. To harm, injure, or frighten Kaylee was to commit an unpardonable sin, and Mal was sure that even the Shepherd wouldn’t speak any words over Jubal’s mutilated corpse. Mal couldn’t stand thinking about what would have happened to him if he’d lost Kaylee and he spent a great deal of time awake in the dining room, cleaning his guns, avoiding the mental image of her corpse, and detailing various ways to torture and kill that sonofabitch bounty hunter.
He was certain enough that nobody on board the ship, with the possible exception of Zoe, knew what things had been like between him and Kaylee when he first found her. He didn’t know if it had something to do with the situation she’d been in the first time he’d seen her, or if it was the way she handled his ship -- her hands on that engine and the look in her eyes when she was mechanic-ing would make a man trust her with every inch of his body -- but he’d known from the electric moment he’d invited her onboard with a throaty, half-suggestive “Wanna?” that they’d end up where they had.
She was sweet in a way he wasn’t used to having but liked very much. For all her good girl ways and appearance, she was unbridled in bed, and he liked the way her shapely lips opened wide in laughing delight when he nipped at her collarbone. He liked how she pulled his head up in a way that wasn’t gentle but wasn’t rough and kissed him with such utter joy that he wondered for a moment if he tasted like something other than flesh, something sweet and fresh that made her moan like that.
He’d taken her into his bed more than once, and he remembered one time that Zoe and Wash had been planet-side and he and Kaylee had stayed behind to fine-tune Serenity when the dining room table had been too much of a temptation for them, but he’d never invaded the privacy of her bunk and he’d never taken her in the engine room. He wasn't going to be Bester's encore.
He was grateful for that at certain moments, because he could live with the ghost of her smiles and her softness in his own bunk, where he had nothing besides shadows and memories to keep him warm anyhow, but he couldn’t stand the thought of lingering in her space or having some phantom pain haunt him in the heart of Serenity.
Their falling apart hadn’t been dramatic or painful; it had slipped up on them like a sunrise and the first time he’d stopped kissing her because she wasn’t laughing anymore, they’d met each other’s eyes and known. She’d kissed him chastely, in apology, and he’d smiled with tired honesty.
“I don’t wanna hurt you--” she’d whispered, and he’d stopped her with two fingers laid across her lips, unable to bring himself to kiss her again, though he’d had the impulse.
“S’all right,” he’d assured her quietly. “Everything ends somehow.”
“I don’t like the thought of breakin’ your heart,” she’d insisted, and he’d seen the truth of it in her eyes. It was the only thing that kept him from laughing.
“My heart was broke long before you, little Kaylee. Can’t do what’s already been done.” It was true; it didn’t hurt to lose Kaylee like this. He hadn’t expected it to be more than it had been, and it was ending. Didn’t mean he’d like having her on board any less just ‘cause she wasn’t warming his bed.
Her fingers had traced over his face tenderly, and she’d gotten a hopeful look as she said, “Maybe somebody can fix it someday.”
He’d felt his expression close off; he’d been as much as widowed in the war when the Alliance had crushed them at Serenity Valley and he’d never love a woman as much as he loved his bygone freedom. His ongoing affair with independence was what kept him alive, and as much as he enjoyed Kaylee and appreciated her, she hadn’t taken that place.
She’d frowned at the serious look that had come over his face and insisted, “It could happen, maybe.”
He’d sighed and moved off of her, sitting up in his bunk and making room for her to do the same. “Some things get broke, they can’t be fixed,” he’d shrugged, and she’d looked incredibly sad as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
She’d tied up the back of her blouse as she left his bunk, looping the arms of her coveralls around her waist, and when she’d reached the top of his ladder, she’d poked her head back in and said quietly, “Good night, Captain. Sweet dreams.”
“G’nght, Kaylee,” he’d returned fondly, and that had been the end of their affair, though she’d kept a familiar intimacy with him that he had never minded. Kaylee’s hands were like feeling sunlight on his face after a month in the cold black, and he didn’t plan on ever complaining about that. She hadn’t taken to anyone else until Simon; he admitted to having watched to see if she had gone off with anyone at the ports they docked in. He wasn’t jealous, but he was protective.
When Jayne had come on board, he’d seen the interest in the dark man’s eyes and had instinctively moved between his new mercenary and his genius mechanic, but after a few short moments of watching the two together, Mal had decided that Kaylee could hold her own with the man. He knew Jayne was taken with her, but he never knew if Kaylee took Jayne into her bed. He didn’t particularly care to know.
When Inara had come on board, Kaylee had inquired candidly if he was planning on starting anything with the beautiful courtesan. He’d told her no, and he meant it. No matter how much he might be attracted to her, it was clear that she was as guarded as he was. His affair with Kaylee was the exception to a long standing rule of his that shipboard romances complicated things -- and if it had been anyone but Kaylee, he imagined things would have gotten more complicated than anyone wanted to think about. Inara was a woman who avoided complications even more religiously than Mal himself, and he knew that no matter what might be possible between them, it would always only be a possibility.
It wasn’t until River that things started shifting for him, and he hated the way that had happened. He understood River in a way that frightened him -- needed to protect her in a way he hadn’t known he could need something. It had quickly come to the point that someone hurting River was like someone hurting Kaylee -- it wouldn’t be done around Mal and be gotten away with. Kaylee had seen it right off, maybe even quicker than Mal himself had known.
Waking up in the infirmary, half-dazed with drugs and pain, she’d looked from Mal to the sleeping River and whispered, “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?”
River might be the reader, but Kaylee knew him.
After Ariel, after Simon had told him that he thought he could help River, the sad-eyed girl had sought him out, standing like a ghost in the doorway, and told him clearly, “Some things get broke, they can’t be fixed.”
He’d looked up at her with sharp suspicion, and she’d shrugged. “That’s just what you think,” she’d whispered. “But you’re right. Sometimes, to fix the broken thing you have to get something new. Like the engine. It runs now but it needed a new part.” She’d tilted her head and smiled sadly. “You can’t fix something with something that’s broken.”
She’d turned as if to go but paused to look over her shoulder and promise him shyly, “I’m trying to get better. Maybe soon I won’t be broken anymore.”
Then she’d disappeared, and he’d been left with more confusion than he’d started with, but he hadn’t been able to keep from wondering what Kaylee would think about River trying to fix him. Somehow, he had the feeling she’d approve.
The End
Author: m.jules
Disclaimer: Joss’s. No money. Just love.
Spoilers: Series only.
Summary: "Sometimes something gets broke, it can't be fixed."
Timeline: After “Objects In Space” - before the comics/movie.
Pairing(s): Mal/Kaylee, with some mention of Mal/River and Mal/Inara.
Author’s Notes: This got started from watching “Out of Gas” and “Ariel” back to back. I’m still not sure how happy I am with the story on the whole, but I like my concepts. I just don’t know if I’ve woven them together well enough. This goes out to Molly, who wanted some Mal/Kaylee.
BROKE
He thought about Kaylee at times like this. Thought about how glad he was that she was onboard Serenity -- how much he loved that she loved the ship, how damn embarrassingly grateful he was that she loved him.
Of all the things he had to worry about going wrong, he never worried about Kaylee doing anything that would cause trouble. That was why, when he found out what Jubal Early had done to her, he’d sworn that if the man survived his safari through deep space that River had so kindly arranged, he wouldn’t survive his next meeting with Mal.
Kaylee was innocent. She wasn’t naive and she sure as hell wasn’t a virgin, but she was pure in her own way. To harm, injure, or frighten Kaylee was to commit an unpardonable sin, and Mal was sure that even the Shepherd wouldn’t speak any words over Jubal’s mutilated corpse. Mal couldn’t stand thinking about what would have happened to him if he’d lost Kaylee and he spent a great deal of time awake in the dining room, cleaning his guns, avoiding the mental image of her corpse, and detailing various ways to torture and kill that sonofabitch bounty hunter.
He was certain enough that nobody on board the ship, with the possible exception of Zoe, knew what things had been like between him and Kaylee when he first found her. He didn’t know if it had something to do with the situation she’d been in the first time he’d seen her, or if it was the way she handled his ship -- her hands on that engine and the look in her eyes when she was mechanic-ing would make a man trust her with every inch of his body -- but he’d known from the electric moment he’d invited her onboard with a throaty, half-suggestive “Wanna?” that they’d end up where they had.
She was sweet in a way he wasn’t used to having but liked very much. For all her good girl ways and appearance, she was unbridled in bed, and he liked the way her shapely lips opened wide in laughing delight when he nipped at her collarbone. He liked how she pulled his head up in a way that wasn’t gentle but wasn’t rough and kissed him with such utter joy that he wondered for a moment if he tasted like something other than flesh, something sweet and fresh that made her moan like that.
He’d taken her into his bed more than once, and he remembered one time that Zoe and Wash had been planet-side and he and Kaylee had stayed behind to fine-tune Serenity when the dining room table had been too much of a temptation for them, but he’d never invaded the privacy of her bunk and he’d never taken her in the engine room. He wasn't going to be Bester's encore.
He was grateful for that at certain moments, because he could live with the ghost of her smiles and her softness in his own bunk, where he had nothing besides shadows and memories to keep him warm anyhow, but he couldn’t stand the thought of lingering in her space or having some phantom pain haunt him in the heart of Serenity.
Their falling apart hadn’t been dramatic or painful; it had slipped up on them like a sunrise and the first time he’d stopped kissing her because she wasn’t laughing anymore, they’d met each other’s eyes and known. She’d kissed him chastely, in apology, and he’d smiled with tired honesty.
“I don’t wanna hurt you--” she’d whispered, and he’d stopped her with two fingers laid across her lips, unable to bring himself to kiss her again, though he’d had the impulse.
“S’all right,” he’d assured her quietly. “Everything ends somehow.”
“I don’t like the thought of breakin’ your heart,” she’d insisted, and he’d seen the truth of it in her eyes. It was the only thing that kept him from laughing.
“My heart was broke long before you, little Kaylee. Can’t do what’s already been done.” It was true; it didn’t hurt to lose Kaylee like this. He hadn’t expected it to be more than it had been, and it was ending. Didn’t mean he’d like having her on board any less just ‘cause she wasn’t warming his bed.
Her fingers had traced over his face tenderly, and she’d gotten a hopeful look as she said, “Maybe somebody can fix it someday.”
He’d felt his expression close off; he’d been as much as widowed in the war when the Alliance had crushed them at Serenity Valley and he’d never love a woman as much as he loved his bygone freedom. His ongoing affair with independence was what kept him alive, and as much as he enjoyed Kaylee and appreciated her, she hadn’t taken that place.
She’d frowned at the serious look that had come over his face and insisted, “It could happen, maybe.”
He’d sighed and moved off of her, sitting up in his bunk and making room for her to do the same. “Some things get broke, they can’t be fixed,” he’d shrugged, and she’d looked incredibly sad as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.
She’d tied up the back of her blouse as she left his bunk, looping the arms of her coveralls around her waist, and when she’d reached the top of his ladder, she’d poked her head back in and said quietly, “Good night, Captain. Sweet dreams.”
“G’nght, Kaylee,” he’d returned fondly, and that had been the end of their affair, though she’d kept a familiar intimacy with him that he had never minded. Kaylee’s hands were like feeling sunlight on his face after a month in the cold black, and he didn’t plan on ever complaining about that. She hadn’t taken to anyone else until Simon; he admitted to having watched to see if she had gone off with anyone at the ports they docked in. He wasn’t jealous, but he was protective.
When Jayne had come on board, he’d seen the interest in the dark man’s eyes and had instinctively moved between his new mercenary and his genius mechanic, but after a few short moments of watching the two together, Mal had decided that Kaylee could hold her own with the man. He knew Jayne was taken with her, but he never knew if Kaylee took Jayne into her bed. He didn’t particularly care to know.
When Inara had come on board, Kaylee had inquired candidly if he was planning on starting anything with the beautiful courtesan. He’d told her no, and he meant it. No matter how much he might be attracted to her, it was clear that she was as guarded as he was. His affair with Kaylee was the exception to a long standing rule of his that shipboard romances complicated things -- and if it had been anyone but Kaylee, he imagined things would have gotten more complicated than anyone wanted to think about. Inara was a woman who avoided complications even more religiously than Mal himself, and he knew that no matter what might be possible between them, it would always only be a possibility.
It wasn’t until River that things started shifting for him, and he hated the way that had happened. He understood River in a way that frightened him -- needed to protect her in a way he hadn’t known he could need something. It had quickly come to the point that someone hurting River was like someone hurting Kaylee -- it wouldn’t be done around Mal and be gotten away with. Kaylee had seen it right off, maybe even quicker than Mal himself had known.
Waking up in the infirmary, half-dazed with drugs and pain, she’d looked from Mal to the sleeping River and whispered, “She’s a real beauty, isn’t she?”
River might be the reader, but Kaylee knew him.
After Ariel, after Simon had told him that he thought he could help River, the sad-eyed girl had sought him out, standing like a ghost in the doorway, and told him clearly, “Some things get broke, they can’t be fixed.”
He’d looked up at her with sharp suspicion, and she’d shrugged. “That’s just what you think,” she’d whispered. “But you’re right. Sometimes, to fix the broken thing you have to get something new. Like the engine. It runs now but it needed a new part.” She’d tilted her head and smiled sadly. “You can’t fix something with something that’s broken.”
She’d turned as if to go but paused to look over her shoulder and promise him shyly, “I’m trying to get better. Maybe soon I won’t be broken anymore.”
Then she’d disappeared, and he’d been left with more confusion than he’d started with, but he hadn’t been able to keep from wondering what Kaylee would think about River trying to fix him. Somehow, he had the feeling she’d approve.
The End