Firefly - Fairground Distraction
Title: Fairground Distraction
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine. They are Joss's. No infringement is intended and I'm not making any money from this story.
Summary: Mal finds River sitting pensive and idle one too many times.
Author's note: Here's another ficlet for my 10_hurt_comfort table. The prompt is "Lonely" and it's a friendship piece. Set some time after the movie. Huge hugs to geek_mama_2 for editing and suggestions and for always being there to kindly answer my many questions!
Fairground Distraction
by Hereswith
When Mal finds her sitting pensive and idle for the third time within an hour, he halts beside her and says, “Right. That’s it.”
Roused from her inertia, River shifts on the couch and gazes up at him. “What is?”
“Doc and Kaylee won’t be back before tomorrow evening at the earliest,” he replies, “and I’ll be gorramned if I’ll have you moping around ‘til then.”
“I’m not moping,” she protests, but it isn’t entirely true, and at his doubting look, she sighs, because it has only been a day since Simon whisked Kaylee away to that cosy inn in the town. “I miss him a little. It’s silly, isn’t it?”
“Not hardly,” he says, with a softer tone, “the two of you being so close. But it’s pretty natural they’d want to be alone together for a spell, romantic-like.”
She bites her lip, but nods, aware that what her brother has with Kaylee is theirs, private, no peeking, and not always for her to share. “I know.”
“You mentioned something about a fair, didn’t you?” he asks. “On the riverbank?”
She makes a face. “You don’t have to baby-sit me.”
He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m offering my company, is all, if you’ll have it.”
River studies him, frowning, but he doesn’t fidget a bit under her scrutiny. “Don’t you have things to do?”
“Not now I don’t. And I could use a break. Might be the others could, as well. What do you say?”
She gives it a thought, two, but that decides it. “Need to fetch my sweater.”
*
The din of the fairground flows and swells around them, like waves washing on a shore: the shouting and the laughter, and the blaring music from the rides. Jayne had come with them, but soon disappeared in the crowd, his sights set on a girl, so it’s just River and the captain, resting on a bench beside a striped tombola stall while she finishes her cotton candy, spun sugar melting on her tongue.
“Anything in particular you’d fancy doing?”
She discards the empty cone and carefully wipes her fingers clean. “Would you go with me on a ride?”
“Which one?” he replies. “The merry-go-round?”
She scoffs and points to the left instead, at the swing carousel whirling, coloured lights flashing in the gathering dusk, against the deepening blue of the sky.
His lips quirk. “Should’ve figured that’s what you’d pick.”
“Yes, you should,” she says. “The merry-go-round is dull. Too slow and flat on the ground.”
“Hmm.” He considers the swing carousel. “It tilts. And them seats go out over the water on one side.”
“That’s the fun part.” She eyes him sidelong. “Dare you.”
“You do, do you?” Amusement flickers through his gaze. “Well, that settles it.” He stands, stretching his back. “Where’s the line?”
River jumps to her feet at once, seizing on his agreement. “There.”
The wait is short, but the precautions take a while, the operator locking the lap bars and safety belts tight, and she glances over her shoulder at Mal, behind her in the single row of seats.
“Still here,” he says and adds, with a teasing smile, “Can’t be worse than the stunts you pulled flying week before last.”
She glares in mock affront. “Never lost control.”
“Didn’t imply otherwise,” he replies, and indicates the operator. “Let’s hope he’s got things in hand.”
“He isn’t nervous. Or drunk. And the probability of a malfunction is relatively slight,” she tells him, and it causes his smile to widen briefly.
The ride starts with a jolt, elevating as it rotates, putting an end to the conversation. With a thrill of excitement River turns forward, dangling her legs and taking in the views of the bustling fairground, the town beyond, and the broad ribbon of the river. Before long, the speed increases, faster and faster, until her hair whips around her and the seats swing out, high above the earth, above the water, then the top of the carousel tilts at a perfect angle and it’s like falling, soaring in the air, the wind and the world rushing past.
When it’s over, she’s bubbling and skipping, and Mal, who isn’t looking green or blanched, or terribly bored-she’s checked-shakes his head at her enthusiasm, but she grins and says, “You enjoyed it, too.”
“Wasn’t a complete waste of time,” he replies, then grows serious, his eyes focusing on something distant, far further off than the planet’s horizon. “They had one of those, a mite smaller, at this fair back on Shadow. Ain’t had much call to be on a carousel since.”
“I haven’t either,” she says. “Since before.”
He returns his attention to her. “You reckon that makes us a sorry pair, little one?”
“Carousel-deprived,” she concurs, in a sage manner. “It’s very sad. But it might be remedied by repeated exposure, don’t you think?”
He arches a brow. “Meaning you’d like to go again?”
“Yes.” She hesitates. Logically, it shouldn’t matter if he won’t, the seats are separate, not double. But she’d rather he would. “Could we?”
He’s silent, regarding her, then says, “Once more, then, if you-”
She could hug him, so she does-his arm, at least. “You’re the best of captains.”
He snorts a chuckle. “I’ll remind you of that next you complain my reasoning’s fallacious, shall I?”
She merely beams at him.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The characters and settings referred to here are not mine. They are Joss's. No infringement is intended and I'm not making any money from this story.
Summary: Mal finds River sitting pensive and idle one too many times.
Author's note: Here's another ficlet for my 10_hurt_comfort table. The prompt is "Lonely" and it's a friendship piece. Set some time after the movie. Huge hugs to geek_mama_2 for editing and suggestions and for always being there to kindly answer my many questions!
Fairground Distraction
by Hereswith
When Mal finds her sitting pensive and idle for the third time within an hour, he halts beside her and says, “Right. That’s it.”
Roused from her inertia, River shifts on the couch and gazes up at him. “What is?”
“Doc and Kaylee won’t be back before tomorrow evening at the earliest,” he replies, “and I’ll be gorramned if I’ll have you moping around ‘til then.”
“I’m not moping,” she protests, but it isn’t entirely true, and at his doubting look, she sighs, because it has only been a day since Simon whisked Kaylee away to that cosy inn in the town. “I miss him a little. It’s silly, isn’t it?”
“Not hardly,” he says, with a softer tone, “the two of you being so close. But it’s pretty natural they’d want to be alone together for a spell, romantic-like.”
She bites her lip, but nods, aware that what her brother has with Kaylee is theirs, private, no peeking, and not always for her to share. “I know.”
“You mentioned something about a fair, didn’t you?” he asks. “On the riverbank?”
She makes a face. “You don’t have to baby-sit me.”
He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m offering my company, is all, if you’ll have it.”
River studies him, frowning, but he doesn’t fidget a bit under her scrutiny. “Don’t you have things to do?”
“Not now I don’t. And I could use a break. Might be the others could, as well. What do you say?”
She gives it a thought, two, but that decides it. “Need to fetch my sweater.”
*
The din of the fairground flows and swells around them, like waves washing on a shore: the shouting and the laughter, and the blaring music from the rides. Jayne had come with them, but soon disappeared in the crowd, his sights set on a girl, so it’s just River and the captain, resting on a bench beside a striped tombola stall while she finishes her cotton candy, spun sugar melting on her tongue.
“Anything in particular you’d fancy doing?”
She discards the empty cone and carefully wipes her fingers clean. “Would you go with me on a ride?”
“Which one?” he replies. “The merry-go-round?”
She scoffs and points to the left instead, at the swing carousel whirling, coloured lights flashing in the gathering dusk, against the deepening blue of the sky.
His lips quirk. “Should’ve figured that’s what you’d pick.”
“Yes, you should,” she says. “The merry-go-round is dull. Too slow and flat on the ground.”
“Hmm.” He considers the swing carousel. “It tilts. And them seats go out over the water on one side.”
“That’s the fun part.” She eyes him sidelong. “Dare you.”
“You do, do you?” Amusement flickers through his gaze. “Well, that settles it.” He stands, stretching his back. “Where’s the line?”
River jumps to her feet at once, seizing on his agreement. “There.”
The wait is short, but the precautions take a while, the operator locking the lap bars and safety belts tight, and she glances over her shoulder at Mal, behind her in the single row of seats.
“Still here,” he says and adds, with a teasing smile, “Can’t be worse than the stunts you pulled flying week before last.”
She glares in mock affront. “Never lost control.”
“Didn’t imply otherwise,” he replies, and indicates the operator. “Let’s hope he’s got things in hand.”
“He isn’t nervous. Or drunk. And the probability of a malfunction is relatively slight,” she tells him, and it causes his smile to widen briefly.
The ride starts with a jolt, elevating as it rotates, putting an end to the conversation. With a thrill of excitement River turns forward, dangling her legs and taking in the views of the bustling fairground, the town beyond, and the broad ribbon of the river. Before long, the speed increases, faster and faster, until her hair whips around her and the seats swing out, high above the earth, above the water, then the top of the carousel tilts at a perfect angle and it’s like falling, soaring in the air, the wind and the world rushing past.
When it’s over, she’s bubbling and skipping, and Mal, who isn’t looking green or blanched, or terribly bored-she’s checked-shakes his head at her enthusiasm, but she grins and says, “You enjoyed it, too.”
“Wasn’t a complete waste of time,” he replies, then grows serious, his eyes focusing on something distant, far further off than the planet’s horizon. “They had one of those, a mite smaller, at this fair back on Shadow. Ain’t had much call to be on a carousel since.”
“I haven’t either,” she says. “Since before.”
He returns his attention to her. “You reckon that makes us a sorry pair, little one?”
“Carousel-deprived,” she concurs, in a sage manner. “It’s very sad. But it might be remedied by repeated exposure, don’t you think?”
He arches a brow. “Meaning you’d like to go again?”
“Yes.” She hesitates. Logically, it shouldn’t matter if he won’t, the seats are separate, not double. But she’d rather he would. “Could we?”
He’s silent, regarding her, then says, “Once more, then, if you-”
She could hug him, so she does-his arm, at least. “You’re the best of captains.”
He snorts a chuckle. “I’ll remind you of that next you complain my reasoning’s fallacious, shall I?”
She merely beams at him.