Two Lines Challenge
Title: Chasing Colors
Fandom: Firefly
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Objects In Space”
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Mal/River
A/N: This was written for the “Two Lines” challenge. My first attempt on a Firefly fiction.
I saw color and I chased it in the sky
A piece of yesterday has caught me in the eye
- Naked, The Color Decays
”You ain't supposed to be here, girl.”
He can hear River’s irratic breath and the soft sound of her bare feet on the floor. Within a few seconds she stands next to the couch, watching him with wide eyes. She’s probably had another nightmare.
“Can’t sleep” It’s almost a whisper and for a second Mal wonders if he has only imagined it.
He runs a hand over his hair and blows out a long breath, his mouth opening and closing in indecision before he finally reaches out and touches the place next to him on the couch, telling her to sit down. Even though he knows it’s wrong, he can’t resist.
Sometimes he looks at River and sees himself. Cold and frightened, hiding in dark places from feelings he thought he'd forgotten. And the realization that he watches her too often, lately, hits him hard.
The girl just looks at him, slightly shaking her head. It doesn’t surprise him. It’s been a rough day for everyone, especially her and her words still echo in his mind.
I'll be your bounty, Jubal Early
He knows it was a part of her plan, but the way she said it makes him wonder, if deep down that’s what she wanted. There’s no doubt that she knows about the conversation they had earlier, and even though River was the one who saved his crew, she’s still a crazy girl.
Can’t be controlled, can’t be trusted
His head tells him so and Mal knows he shouldn’t let his heart take over.
But now when he sees River alive and safe, that just hammers it home. He cares about her, cares about her enough to let himself get hurt and forget how dangerous she could be.
"Permission to come aboard?"
"You know, you ain't quite right."
"It's the popular theory."
No, she isn't quite right and may never be right.
Little River, only seventeen, a kid. A kid, who is able to read minds. A kid who is standing in front of him in a dress that is entirely too tempting. He can hardly meet her eyes.
Just a seventeen year-old girl, and whichever way you put it, he isn’t going to be responsible for stealing whatever innocence she might have has left. He isn’t worth much, but he can be better than that.
Maybe he’s known this would happen since the day he’d discovered her curled up nacked in the box. He can sometimes hear her screaming in his sleep. The frightened look on her face when she woke up haunts him at night. He had known her for hardly a day and he’d felt something fiercly protective shoot through him at the thought that someone had done something horrible to this fragile girl.
It is something he’s never felt for another person before and he doesn’t like it. Something that had filled him with a kind of rage he’d never known when her brother told the story. And he knew he couldn’t deal with it. Because that moment he knew he was going to take care of her, make sure nobody would ever hurt her again.
That is part of his problem. Malcolm Reynolds is not this guy. It is not his job to look after a crazy girl. A girl, not woman, who probably never recovers from what happened to her.
"You're alone...that's why you're so sad."
Her soft voice catches his attention, and he turns his head towards her, his eyes blank of all emotion. River's smile brightens, just for a split second, and she reaches a bare hand to his face, stopping only an inch before him. Mal can't say anything as he stares at her, watching River's eyes fall shut, a sweet smile slipping onto her lips.
“Everyone’s alone,” he tells her and shakes his head. Despite her crazyness she always manages to make him think.
Out of the corner of his eyes he can see her face cloud over at his caustic tone, and her lips thin ever so slightly. He looks down at the cup in his hand, and takes a small sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. The sad look on her face makes him almost regret his words.
“You like being alone. No feelings. No regrets. No weakness. You’re lost in the woods, enjoying the pain. You’re afraid you could..”
“Jien tah du guai! You better stop this, nien ching duh. You got no gorram idea what you're talkin' 'bout,” he tells her, his tone dead serious.
When he looks up again, she’s stll standing in front of him, wide eyes staring in astonishment at him, frowning. She takes a few steps closer at him and inhales sharply. Her expression hardens. “Know more than people think,” she whispers, and her voice is so familiar and so... different all at the same time. So cold and angry.
He snorts softly. “I’m sure you do.” Sometimes even he forgets what she is. A reader. The sudden rage he’s feeling makes him want to punch something, someone and all he can do is clench his fists. Because what she says is true and the realization feels like someone stabbed him in the guts.
So much loneliness. So many secrets.
"I'm alone. It's hard, being alone in your own head. Everybody else ain’t, but you're not, you're alone, too.”
"Don't read my mind, River," Mal mutters, wiping his hand against his forehead. It’s late and he’s too tired to deal with this right now.
Suddenly he feels her body sitting next to him on the couch. He can feel her breath coming out in short gasps, slowly turning into little sobs. The sudden rush of panic he’s felt before comes back. He can deal with dangerous men, who carry big guns, but watching a girl cry is pure torture.
“You okay, girl?”
Her eyes catch him unexpectedly, a flash of lightning on the edge of a horizon. She swipes at the tears with the back of her hand and sniffles. Then she shakes her head, a rare patient smile softening her mouth. Mal can’t help but notice how beautiful she is.
He smiled a little. “Good. That’s good. You should go back to bed,” he murmurs, unsure if he wants her to leave yet.
“You saw it, the light. Saw it leaving you and flying into the sky. And you wanted it yourself. All these shiny colors, leaving you behind. But you got Serenity and followed them. Remind you of who you are, who you were.”
Her words are making him uncomfortable and he shifts in place. Someone else may have thought it was another of her crazy talks, but he knows what she tries to tell him. The past and the reason why he got Serenity, his new home. His dream. But he doesn’t want her to remind him, doesn’t want the girl to invade his privacy.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says through clenched teeth as his hand tightens around his cup.
Mal almost jumps, when a small hand, cool and smooth, touches his face. He can't think, can't move. Just stare at the young woman’s pale and beautiful face. She has such a scary mind, but at the same time, she's so gentle, and full of love. Mal can read it in her eyes and for several seconds all they do is stare at each other.
He can see something else in her eyes, something that gives him hope. Something that makes him reach out and touch her cheek. But the moment he does it, River stiffens and closes her eyes.
"No touching," she repeats in that child-like way, like she had hours before.
She starts shaking and Mal shushes her softly, one hand reaching out gently to touch her hair.
"I won't hurt you," he promises. And he’ll make sure no one else does, too. He’s made a decision. One that’ll influence his whole life, but he’s willing to change something. Because he has found the color he was chasing after.
River shivers, pulling a whimper back into herself. "I know."
She lets him touch her face, stroke her cheek in slow motion, before she finally pulls away. One of her slender fingers trails the outline of his right brow, and she sighs, standing up. To his surprise her face shows something he’s never seen on her before, happyness.
The dark haired girl turns around and walks away, but Mal can hear her turning to him again before she leaves the room. He can feel her eyes on his back and it makes him shiver.
“I won’t be seventeen forever.”
He can’t help, but grin at her words and their full meaning. It’s still wrong. He’s too old and she ain't quite right.
But she makes him capable of love when he’d thought he’d cut that part out of himself during the war. He can see her becoming an amazing woman, more than every fantasy he’s had.
All she needs is time.
~Fin~
Fandom: Firefly
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be.
Spoilers: Takes place after “Objects In Space”
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Mal/River
A/N: This was written for the “Two Lines” challenge. My first attempt on a Firefly fiction.
I saw color and I chased it in the sky
A piece of yesterday has caught me in the eye
- Naked, The Color Decays
”You ain't supposed to be here, girl.”
He can hear River’s irratic breath and the soft sound of her bare feet on the floor. Within a few seconds she stands next to the couch, watching him with wide eyes. She’s probably had another nightmare.
“Can’t sleep” It’s almost a whisper and for a second Mal wonders if he has only imagined it.
He runs a hand over his hair and blows out a long breath, his mouth opening and closing in indecision before he finally reaches out and touches the place next to him on the couch, telling her to sit down. Even though he knows it’s wrong, he can’t resist.
Sometimes he looks at River and sees himself. Cold and frightened, hiding in dark places from feelings he thought he'd forgotten. And the realization that he watches her too often, lately, hits him hard.
The girl just looks at him, slightly shaking her head. It doesn’t surprise him. It’s been a rough day for everyone, especially her and her words still echo in his mind.
I'll be your bounty, Jubal Early
He knows it was a part of her plan, but the way she said it makes him wonder, if deep down that’s what she wanted. There’s no doubt that she knows about the conversation they had earlier, and even though River was the one who saved his crew, she’s still a crazy girl.
Can’t be controlled, can’t be trusted
His head tells him so and Mal knows he shouldn’t let his heart take over.
But now when he sees River alive and safe, that just hammers it home. He cares about her, cares about her enough to let himself get hurt and forget how dangerous she could be.
"Permission to come aboard?"
"You know, you ain't quite right."
"It's the popular theory."
No, she isn't quite right and may never be right.
Little River, only seventeen, a kid. A kid, who is able to read minds. A kid who is standing in front of him in a dress that is entirely too tempting. He can hardly meet her eyes.
Just a seventeen year-old girl, and whichever way you put it, he isn’t going to be responsible for stealing whatever innocence she might have has left. He isn’t worth much, but he can be better than that.
Maybe he’s known this would happen since the day he’d discovered her curled up nacked in the box. He can sometimes hear her screaming in his sleep. The frightened look on her face when she woke up haunts him at night. He had known her for hardly a day and he’d felt something fiercly protective shoot through him at the thought that someone had done something horrible to this fragile girl.
It is something he’s never felt for another person before and he doesn’t like it. Something that had filled him with a kind of rage he’d never known when her brother told the story. And he knew he couldn’t deal with it. Because that moment he knew he was going to take care of her, make sure nobody would ever hurt her again.
That is part of his problem. Malcolm Reynolds is not this guy. It is not his job to look after a crazy girl. A girl, not woman, who probably never recovers from what happened to her.
"You're alone...that's why you're so sad."
Her soft voice catches his attention, and he turns his head towards her, his eyes blank of all emotion. River's smile brightens, just for a split second, and she reaches a bare hand to his face, stopping only an inch before him. Mal can't say anything as he stares at her, watching River's eyes fall shut, a sweet smile slipping onto her lips.
“Everyone’s alone,” he tells her and shakes his head. Despite her crazyness she always manages to make him think.
Out of the corner of his eyes he can see her face cloud over at his caustic tone, and her lips thin ever so slightly. He looks down at the cup in his hand, and takes a small sip, grimacing at the bitter taste. The sad look on her face makes him almost regret his words.
“You like being alone. No feelings. No regrets. No weakness. You’re lost in the woods, enjoying the pain. You’re afraid you could..”
“Jien tah du guai! You better stop this, nien ching duh. You got no gorram idea what you're talkin' 'bout,” he tells her, his tone dead serious.
When he looks up again, she’s stll standing in front of him, wide eyes staring in astonishment at him, frowning. She takes a few steps closer at him and inhales sharply. Her expression hardens. “Know more than people think,” she whispers, and her voice is so familiar and so... different all at the same time. So cold and angry.
He snorts softly. “I’m sure you do.” Sometimes even he forgets what she is. A reader. The sudden rage he’s feeling makes him want to punch something, someone and all he can do is clench his fists. Because what she says is true and the realization feels like someone stabbed him in the guts.
So much loneliness. So many secrets.
"I'm alone. It's hard, being alone in your own head. Everybody else ain’t, but you're not, you're alone, too.”
"Don't read my mind, River," Mal mutters, wiping his hand against his forehead. It’s late and he’s too tired to deal with this right now.
Suddenly he feels her body sitting next to him on the couch. He can feel her breath coming out in short gasps, slowly turning into little sobs. The sudden rush of panic he’s felt before comes back. He can deal with dangerous men, who carry big guns, but watching a girl cry is pure torture.
“You okay, girl?”
Her eyes catch him unexpectedly, a flash of lightning on the edge of a horizon. She swipes at the tears with the back of her hand and sniffles. Then she shakes her head, a rare patient smile softening her mouth. Mal can’t help but notice how beautiful she is.
He smiled a little. “Good. That’s good. You should go back to bed,” he murmurs, unsure if he wants her to leave yet.
“You saw it, the light. Saw it leaving you and flying into the sky. And you wanted it yourself. All these shiny colors, leaving you behind. But you got Serenity and followed them. Remind you of who you are, who you were.”
Her words are making him uncomfortable and he shifts in place. Someone else may have thought it was another of her crazy talks, but he knows what she tries to tell him. The past and the reason why he got Serenity, his new home. His dream. But he doesn’t want her to remind him, doesn’t want the girl to invade his privacy.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he says through clenched teeth as his hand tightens around his cup.
Mal almost jumps, when a small hand, cool and smooth, touches his face. He can't think, can't move. Just stare at the young woman’s pale and beautiful face. She has such a scary mind, but at the same time, she's so gentle, and full of love. Mal can read it in her eyes and for several seconds all they do is stare at each other.
He can see something else in her eyes, something that gives him hope. Something that makes him reach out and touch her cheek. But the moment he does it, River stiffens and closes her eyes.
"No touching," she repeats in that child-like way, like she had hours before.
She starts shaking and Mal shushes her softly, one hand reaching out gently to touch her hair.
"I won't hurt you," he promises. And he’ll make sure no one else does, too. He’s made a decision. One that’ll influence his whole life, but he’s willing to change something. Because he has found the color he was chasing after.
River shivers, pulling a whimper back into herself. "I know."
She lets him touch her face, stroke her cheek in slow motion, before she finally pulls away. One of her slender fingers trails the outline of his right brow, and she sighs, standing up. To his surprise her face shows something he’s never seen on her before, happyness.
The dark haired girl turns around and walks away, but Mal can hear her turning to him again before she leaves the room. He can feel her eyes on his back and it makes him shiver.
“I won’t be seventeen forever.”
He can’t help, but grin at her words and their full meaning. It’s still wrong. He’s too old and she ain't quite right.
But she makes him capable of love when he’d thought he’d cut that part out of himself during the war. He can see her becoming an amazing woman, more than every fantasy he’s had.
All she needs is time.
~Fin~