Fic: No Power in the 'Verse, Part 17/18 (Firefly, River/Mal, PG-13)
Title: No Power in the 'Verse: XVII. The Sound of the Sun
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~2000
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes:Chapter title and cut text from I'm an Animal by Neko Case.
This was the first time I'd attempted to write a scene of this sort, which is why some of it came out exclusively in weird River-think.
XVII. The Sound of the Sun
Lying on her bed, River stares up at the metal ceiling, with all the 'verse shining in her eyes.
She's lost in the otherworld of memories - her own memories, real and recorded from each of her senses, playing over and over before her eyes, across her skin, against her lips.
So lost she doesn't hear the crackle of the com, doesn't even hear the door of her bunk open and close. Doesn't notice Mal until he's standing over her, hands on his hips.
She's on her feet in a single motion, memory switched off, present annoyance rising to the fore again, making her voice cool.
“Captain. Is there something you require?”
“Is, as a matter of fact. Which is why I asked you to come up to the bridge twice now. You wanna tell me why you're seein' fit to ignore me?” Mal crosses his arms, matching her defensiveness with his own.
Not wishing to admit I was lost in the memory of you and me and more, please god, give me more out loud, she falls into a half-truth instead.
“Wasn't sure of your intentions. Wouldn't want to disrupt any more of your plans, make you do things you didn't mean.” She turns away to keep her hands from reaching out, reliving. “And don't make faces,” she adds, as he rolls his eyes behind her.
“How do you- alright, first, I hate it when you do that, second, ain't kind to hold what a man says in a moment of surprise against him! 'Specially when you oughta know full well those words didn't mean a thing.”
“And you should have known mine didn't. On the job.”
“Could be I acted a mite foolish there,” he says. “But you gotta remember I can't go 'round hearing what's in your head. We ain't all like you.”
She keeps her back turned, knowing that's as close to an apology as she's likely to get, that to push him further is mere petulance, but unable to help herself. “Should trust me. You shouldn't have to know my thoughts to be able to admit your own.”
“And just what's that supposed to mean?”
“You're scared all the time. Hiding things. Don't want people to see what you feel. I don't want to be in your thoughts if you're just going to hide me away too.”
“River,” he says with a sigh, then abruptly changes course with a sharp laugh. “No. No, I am not havin' this conversation. I'll be more'n willing to talk to you when you're willing to listen, but for now, you'll kindly be giving me Lady Shen's necklace and I'll be on my way.”
The necklace. River had almost forgotten it, a cold bit of weight strapped to her thigh, under the skirts of the blue dress she has not yet removed. Now, as her mind cries out against the thought of Mal leaving her, curses their stubbornness for bringing them to this point, the weight brushes against her, a seductive whisper.
River hears, and turns, the trace of a smile on her face. “No.”
Mal's eyebrows raise. “Uh, 'scuse me? Don't think I can be hearing you right, cause-”
“I said no,” she says, cutting him off. “Want something done,” she continues, giving a dramatic sigh as she sits on her bed, “have to do it yourself.”
She'd be tempted to laugh, tell Mal his face was bound to stick that way if he kept up that expression, if only her blood wasn't rushing so fast she's gripping the edge of the bed just to stay steady.
He stares at her for a long moment before lowering himself to kneel at her feet, setting his hands to her ankle. “Don't try me, darlin',” he says, not taking his eyes off hers as his hands slide up, past her knee, into softer territory.
She's aware, dimly, that her breathing's grown more rapid, shallow breaths past her lips that leave her brain swimming. But most of her awareness is focused on the pressure of his fingers against her skin as he releases the catch, lets the necklace fall to the floor.
He doesn't move, and she's taken for a brief instant by the picture of them, his arms buried to the elbow in the sea of her dress, before instinct breathes in the back of her brain and she slides her legs apart, feels his fingers tighten on her thigh.
“Mal,” she whispers, leaning forward until her lips nearly touch his. “Said you were my husband for tonight. Act like it.”
***
He knows the second he puts his hands on her that he's lost whatever challenge was between them in this room, but he's finding it hard to care when losing feels so smooth and warm under his fingers.
He wants her, as he lets their stolen loot drop without a thought, bad enough to suffer any kind of hell. It's not just the softness of her skin, it's the pulse he can see in her neck, the way her eyes don't leave his even as she starts breathing quicker, losing control. There's trust there, and wanting, and something more he's still too much of a coward to name.
And when she parts her legs for him, whispers those words against his mouth, he loses control himself. Before he can barely form a thought he's kissing her hard, reaching out with one hand to pull her to the edge of the bed while the other slides further up, ridding her of her underclothes. It's only as he hears her gasp, breaking away from the kiss and biting her lip, that he comes back to himself, remembers where he is and who he's got under his hands.
As he stands up, offering her a hand to pull her to feet, he sees the confusion on her face, under the flush of color. “What's the matter?” she asks, reaching up to touch his face before he captures that hand too. “Wasn't I doing it right?”
“Were doin' just fine, darlin',” he says, turning her so her back's to him. “Doing all too well, in fact, making me forget myself.” He groans to himself, looking at the endless row of tiny buttons down the back of her dress, wonders why in hell women's clothes gotta be so impractical. “But I don't intend to be takin' you like a ruttin' animal. Not this time, at least.”
***
River stands silent, on the edge, fluttering with nerves. She can feel the quick pull and release of every button as Mal works his way down, past her ribs to the small of her back. Her breath is coming faster, and she feels she can barely stand, will surely collapse under the pressure he's adding with each small release. Turning her head slightly, eyes lowered, she watches the movement of his arm, and when he reaches the end of the row, she goes on standing there. She feels she will shatter if she doesn't touch him, but her instinct tells her to remain. So she does, listening to the rustle of fabric behind her announce Mal's movements, the quiet thumps of his shoes, the soft whisper of bit after bit of clothing hitting the floor.
She's standing there still when Mal reaches back up, his hands hovering just over her shoulders, leaving trails of anticipation trembling down her spine.
“You're sure you want this, River?” he says, his lips brushing against her ear.
She finds her throat too tight for words, needs to swallow before she can speak. “Please, Mal,” she says, her voice a bare whisper. “Don't stop.”
Slowly, he pulls the unbuttoned dress from her shoulders, slides it down her arms, his fingers leaving chills along her heated skin. And when his hands trace over the curves of her body, down to her waist before pushing the dress down over her hips, she shivers and laughs in pure delight, and feels his hands turning her, guiding her down to the bed.
***
River's thoughts have flown; she cannot control them, cannot control anything under Mal's hands, his lips, his tongue. She abandons herself to feeling, to flying through a storm of pleasure.
Amazing. Sliding, pushing, rising, yes, please god let me feel this always. Pulsing, rushing, more more - want this, drowning in all I've wanted, love -
And it's too much, leaves her gasping for breath; there's too much feeling and she reaches out, groping alongside until she touches metal, feels the solidness of Serenity beneath her palm, shares with her -
Higher, closer. More, Mal, more. Please, never knew. Felt but didn't know. This is life, this is sun, this is a new kind of flying. Desire, want, I believe, oh how I believe. More, yes.
Yes.
Love. Mal. Serenity.
River understands, and her hand, cool from the metal, slides over Mal's back, holding him close.
***
It is after, and the world is different for River, enough new to keep her mind occupied for weeks.
Mal is next to her, watching her face as she stares into the ceiling, watching her smile ebb and flow as her brain categorizes and reports and relives what has happened. “You gonna tell me what's in that head of yours, albatross?” he asks as her smile widens.
“Everything,” she says, not having the ability to formulate coherence just yet. “But nothing bad.” Her eyebrows draw together as she considers. “Will it get better? I've learned from Kaylee the first time isn't to be judged by, that it's supposed to get better.”
Mal grimaces, shifts uneasily. “Well now, darlin', you sure know how to rob a man of his confidence. Did I hurt you, that it was bad as all that?”
She turns to face him, eyes wide. “No, not bad at all. The pain was minimal. I just thought - if it gets even better, can we start right away?”
He laughs at this, tucks his arm under her shoulders, pulling her against him. “See there's certain things Kaylee didn't get to explaining. Gotta give a man a bit of time.”
“A poor design, I think.”
He chuckles again. “Promise I'll give you everything I can, soon as I'm able,” he says, and though she knows he is speaking physically, her mind catches on his, hears the echoes of emotionally behind it.
“Mal,” she says, laying her hand over his heartbeat, “emotions - just chemicals floating in the brain, pressing triggers. But they create our reality. Bond us to each other.” She shifts, looking up into his eyes. “I know what you feel, even if you don't. It's alright.”
“Do you now?” he says, eyebrows rising, and for a moment she thinks he will retreat back into flippancy, take cover again. “Be much obliged if you'd explain it to me, then. Never been too good at feeling things, much less talking 'bout 'em.”
“But you are good at feeling. So good at it you feel for everyone on the ship, hold us all together.” She thinks for a moment, arranging the fragments to suit her purpose. “Shepherd Book told you to believe. Didn't matter what, just to believe. What do you think you chose to believe in?”
He doesn't answer, and she touches his face, smiling. “Love, Mal,” she says, and knows from the look in his eyes before he kisses her that it's enough.
Part 16 - Master Post - Part 18
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~2000
Pairing: River/Mal, mentions of Kaylee/Simon
Notes:Chapter title and cut text from I'm an Animal by Neko Case.
This was the first time I'd attempted to write a scene of this sort, which is why some of it came out exclusively in weird River-think.
XVII. The Sound of the Sun
Lying on her bed, River stares up at the metal ceiling, with all the 'verse shining in her eyes.
She's lost in the otherworld of memories - her own memories, real and recorded from each of her senses, playing over and over before her eyes, across her skin, against her lips.
So lost she doesn't hear the crackle of the com, doesn't even hear the door of her bunk open and close. Doesn't notice Mal until he's standing over her, hands on his hips.
She's on her feet in a single motion, memory switched off, present annoyance rising to the fore again, making her voice cool.
“Captain. Is there something you require?”
“Is, as a matter of fact. Which is why I asked you to come up to the bridge twice now. You wanna tell me why you're seein' fit to ignore me?” Mal crosses his arms, matching her defensiveness with his own.
Not wishing to admit I was lost in the memory of you and me and more, please god, give me more out loud, she falls into a half-truth instead.
“Wasn't sure of your intentions. Wouldn't want to disrupt any more of your plans, make you do things you didn't mean.” She turns away to keep her hands from reaching out, reliving. “And don't make faces,” she adds, as he rolls his eyes behind her.
“How do you- alright, first, I hate it when you do that, second, ain't kind to hold what a man says in a moment of surprise against him! 'Specially when you oughta know full well those words didn't mean a thing.”
“And you should have known mine didn't. On the job.”
“Could be I acted a mite foolish there,” he says. “But you gotta remember I can't go 'round hearing what's in your head. We ain't all like you.”
She keeps her back turned, knowing that's as close to an apology as she's likely to get, that to push him further is mere petulance, but unable to help herself. “Should trust me. You shouldn't have to know my thoughts to be able to admit your own.”
“And just what's that supposed to mean?”
“You're scared all the time. Hiding things. Don't want people to see what you feel. I don't want to be in your thoughts if you're just going to hide me away too.”
“River,” he says with a sigh, then abruptly changes course with a sharp laugh. “No. No, I am not havin' this conversation. I'll be more'n willing to talk to you when you're willing to listen, but for now, you'll kindly be giving me Lady Shen's necklace and I'll be on my way.”
The necklace. River had almost forgotten it, a cold bit of weight strapped to her thigh, under the skirts of the blue dress she has not yet removed. Now, as her mind cries out against the thought of Mal leaving her, curses their stubbornness for bringing them to this point, the weight brushes against her, a seductive whisper.
River hears, and turns, the trace of a smile on her face. “No.”
Mal's eyebrows raise. “Uh, 'scuse me? Don't think I can be hearing you right, cause-”
“I said no,” she says, cutting him off. “Want something done,” she continues, giving a dramatic sigh as she sits on her bed, “have to do it yourself.”
She'd be tempted to laugh, tell Mal his face was bound to stick that way if he kept up that expression, if only her blood wasn't rushing so fast she's gripping the edge of the bed just to stay steady.
He stares at her for a long moment before lowering himself to kneel at her feet, setting his hands to her ankle. “Don't try me, darlin',” he says, not taking his eyes off hers as his hands slide up, past her knee, into softer territory.
She's aware, dimly, that her breathing's grown more rapid, shallow breaths past her lips that leave her brain swimming. But most of her awareness is focused on the pressure of his fingers against her skin as he releases the catch, lets the necklace fall to the floor.
He doesn't move, and she's taken for a brief instant by the picture of them, his arms buried to the elbow in the sea of her dress, before instinct breathes in the back of her brain and she slides her legs apart, feels his fingers tighten on her thigh.
“Mal,” she whispers, leaning forward until her lips nearly touch his. “Said you were my husband for tonight. Act like it.”
***
He knows the second he puts his hands on her that he's lost whatever challenge was between them in this room, but he's finding it hard to care when losing feels so smooth and warm under his fingers.
He wants her, as he lets their stolen loot drop without a thought, bad enough to suffer any kind of hell. It's not just the softness of her skin, it's the pulse he can see in her neck, the way her eyes don't leave his even as she starts breathing quicker, losing control. There's trust there, and wanting, and something more he's still too much of a coward to name.
And when she parts her legs for him, whispers those words against his mouth, he loses control himself. Before he can barely form a thought he's kissing her hard, reaching out with one hand to pull her to the edge of the bed while the other slides further up, ridding her of her underclothes. It's only as he hears her gasp, breaking away from the kiss and biting her lip, that he comes back to himself, remembers where he is and who he's got under his hands.
As he stands up, offering her a hand to pull her to feet, he sees the confusion on her face, under the flush of color. “What's the matter?” she asks, reaching up to touch his face before he captures that hand too. “Wasn't I doing it right?”
“Were doin' just fine, darlin',” he says, turning her so her back's to him. “Doing all too well, in fact, making me forget myself.” He groans to himself, looking at the endless row of tiny buttons down the back of her dress, wonders why in hell women's clothes gotta be so impractical. “But I don't intend to be takin' you like a ruttin' animal. Not this time, at least.”
***
River stands silent, on the edge, fluttering with nerves. She can feel the quick pull and release of every button as Mal works his way down, past her ribs to the small of her back. Her breath is coming faster, and she feels she can barely stand, will surely collapse under the pressure he's adding with each small release. Turning her head slightly, eyes lowered, she watches the movement of his arm, and when he reaches the end of the row, she goes on standing there. She feels she will shatter if she doesn't touch him, but her instinct tells her to remain. So she does, listening to the rustle of fabric behind her announce Mal's movements, the quiet thumps of his shoes, the soft whisper of bit after bit of clothing hitting the floor.
She's standing there still when Mal reaches back up, his hands hovering just over her shoulders, leaving trails of anticipation trembling down her spine.
“You're sure you want this, River?” he says, his lips brushing against her ear.
She finds her throat too tight for words, needs to swallow before she can speak. “Please, Mal,” she says, her voice a bare whisper. “Don't stop.”
Slowly, he pulls the unbuttoned dress from her shoulders, slides it down her arms, his fingers leaving chills along her heated skin. And when his hands trace over the curves of her body, down to her waist before pushing the dress down over her hips, she shivers and laughs in pure delight, and feels his hands turning her, guiding her down to the bed.
***
River's thoughts have flown; she cannot control them, cannot control anything under Mal's hands, his lips, his tongue. She abandons herself to feeling, to flying through a storm of pleasure.
Amazing. Sliding, pushing, rising, yes, please god let me feel this always. Pulsing, rushing, more more - want this, drowning in all I've wanted, love -
And it's too much, leaves her gasping for breath; there's too much feeling and she reaches out, groping alongside until she touches metal, feels the solidness of Serenity beneath her palm, shares with her -
Higher, closer. More, Mal, more. Please, never knew. Felt but didn't know. This is life, this is sun, this is a new kind of flying. Desire, want, I believe, oh how I believe. More, yes.
Yes.
Love. Mal. Serenity.
River understands, and her hand, cool from the metal, slides over Mal's back, holding him close.
***
It is after, and the world is different for River, enough new to keep her mind occupied for weeks.
Mal is next to her, watching her face as she stares into the ceiling, watching her smile ebb and flow as her brain categorizes and reports and relives what has happened. “You gonna tell me what's in that head of yours, albatross?” he asks as her smile widens.
“Everything,” she says, not having the ability to formulate coherence just yet. “But nothing bad.” Her eyebrows draw together as she considers. “Will it get better? I've learned from Kaylee the first time isn't to be judged by, that it's supposed to get better.”
Mal grimaces, shifts uneasily. “Well now, darlin', you sure know how to rob a man of his confidence. Did I hurt you, that it was bad as all that?”
She turns to face him, eyes wide. “No, not bad at all. The pain was minimal. I just thought - if it gets even better, can we start right away?”
He laughs at this, tucks his arm under her shoulders, pulling her against him. “See there's certain things Kaylee didn't get to explaining. Gotta give a man a bit of time.”
“A poor design, I think.”
He chuckles again. “Promise I'll give you everything I can, soon as I'm able,” he says, and though she knows he is speaking physically, her mind catches on his, hears the echoes of emotionally behind it.
“Mal,” she says, laying her hand over his heartbeat, “emotions - just chemicals floating in the brain, pressing triggers. But they create our reality. Bond us to each other.” She shifts, looking up into his eyes. “I know what you feel, even if you don't. It's alright.”
“Do you now?” he says, eyebrows rising, and for a moment she thinks he will retreat back into flippancy, take cover again. “Be much obliged if you'd explain it to me, then. Never been too good at feeling things, much less talking 'bout 'em.”
“But you are good at feeling. So good at it you feel for everyone on the ship, hold us all together.” She thinks for a moment, arranging the fragments to suit her purpose. “Shepherd Book told you to believe. Didn't matter what, just to believe. What do you think you chose to believe in?”
He doesn't answer, and she touches his face, smiling. “Love, Mal,” she says, and knows from the look in his eyes before he kisses her that it's enough.
Part 16 - Master Post - Part 18