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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
Okay, I couldn't wait any longer ... Mal & Freya! Feedback is brilliant, and I look forward to hearing what you think!
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1858 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
“Does this taste okay?” Freya held out the spoon she’d been using to stir the stew with. Kaylee tentatively took a lick.
“Tastes good,” she said, somewhat surprised. Freya didn’t cook often enough to get much practice, but she had offered to arrange this evening’s meal, mainly to take her mind off Mal.
“I never can tell,” the older woman admitted, smiling.
“So how are you and the captain getting along?” Kaylee asked, pulling plates from a cupboard.
“Me and Mal?”
“You having sex again yet?”
Freya laughed. Kaylee had never seen the need to be embarrassed by sex, or anything to do with it. “I think it’s accurate to say you’re getting one hundred percent more than I am.”
Kaylee nodded, almost distracted. She hugged the plates to herself, then said quietly: “You get on really well with Simon.”
Freya looked at her, surprised by the wistful tone. “Little Kaylee, do I hear a touch of jealousy there?”
“Well, you do.” Kaylee was on the defence.
Freya sighed and turned to face the young woman. “Yes, we get on well. Something to do with being born into the same circle, maybe. I like him. And I can see why you like him.”
“More than like,” Kaylee muttered.
“I know,” Freya said kindly. “But that’s it. There’s nothing more. There’s no attraction.” She patted Kaylee on the arm, squeezing gently. “And if there was I wouldn’t do anything about it. I’d never hurt you, xiao mei-mei, nor put you in a position to be hurt. So don’t let a little jealousy complicate things.”
Kaylee looked into her friend’s face. “It’s already complicated.”
“What do you mean?”
Freya stared. “Wha …?” She closed her mouth, taking a moment to let it sink in. “Does Simon know?”
Kaylee shook her head. “No. I ain’t told him.”
“Then maybe you might not –“
Kaylee interrupted. “I seen a doctor on Persephone. There’s no mistake.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“No. Only you.” Kaylee hung her head a little. “Freya, can you tell him?”
“Who?” Freya asked, although she had an idea who Kaylee meant, and her heart sank.
Yep, there it was. “Oh, Kaylee. I don’t know.”
Kaylee looked up. “Please, Freya. I don’t think I can face him.”
Freya looked into those pleading eyes, and felt her heart melt. “Okay. Okay, I’ll tell him.” She looked round at the sound of someone entering the dining area. It was Jayne, always early for a meal. “After we eat.”
Kaylee visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Freya. I seriously owe you.”
“Believe me, you do.”
Freya was pushing her stew around her plate, not listening to the conversation going on at the table. It wasn’t until Mal touched her gently on the arm, making her jump, that she realised she’d been spoken to. “Oh, sorry,” she said, smiling at him. “Miles away.”
“I asked who your contact is on Beaumonde,” Mal said, returning the smile. “Although if you have better daydreams to consider than where your next meal is coming from, I can understand.”
Freya laughed. “No, I think my daydreams can stay that way. His name’s Fairfax. He’s a scum and a low life, but …”
“Is he trustworthy?”
“As much as low life scum ever are. About as far as I can spit.”
“You … spit? I never knew that about you,” Mal teased gently.
“Okay, maybe not. How about as far as Jayne can spit?”
“That I can believe more readily.”
“Hey!” The man in question, looked up, aware he was being insulted, but taking it in his stride like he mostly did. It happened too much to fight over it every time.
Mal went on, “We’ll see what he has to offer – we need cash, and I’m not feeling too particular about how we get it.”
The meal broke up and Freya began to clear the dishes. Mal picked up some plates and followed her into the kitchen area. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I'm fine,” Freya said, surprised, taking the plates from him.
“Seems to me you’re a mite distracted.”
Freya gazed at him, then began, “Mal –“
Hank’s voice came over the internal system. “Mal, Badger’s on the vid.”
“Freya?” Mal looked at her in query.
She smiled. “It’ll keep.”
Mal sat on the edge of his bunk and pulled off his boots, shrugging his braces from his shoulders so they hung around his hips. Unbuttoning and stripping off his shirt, he began to undo his pants when he heard the door to his room opening.
“Mal?” Freya’s voice filtered in. “Can I come down?”
“Ain’t going to stop you.” Mal went to pick up his shirt again, but stopped. She’d seen him wearing a lot less a lot more often than this. Not recently, he admitted to himself, but he had never been personally shy. Still, he did up the buttons on his pants again.
Freya climbed down the ladder and faced him.
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“Mal …” Freya took a deep breath. “Mal … I need to … there’s something …” She ground to a halt.
“Freya?” Mal was surprised, and slightly apprehensive. To see Freya lost for words was so unusual as to be almost unheard of. He stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”
Freya gazed at him, her brown eyes wary, not quite knowing where to start. So, all on one breath, she said, “What would you say if I said I was pregnant?”
“Tah muh duh!” The look of shock on Mal’s face was echoed by the shove he gave as he released Freya’s shoulders. He stepped back, unbalanced. He stared at her, then said, “I’d say which hwoon-dahn is responsible? Then I’d be as like to kill him!” His anger was sudden and intense.
“Right.” Freya, amazed and, if she were honest, somewhat gratified by his reaction, added, “I’m not, by the way.” She moved slightly to be between Mal and the ladder.
Mal paused in his action of reaching for his gun. He turned to stare at her, perplexed and confused. “Wha … you’re not?”
“Kaylee is, though.”
Mal’s jaw actually dropped at this bombshell, his blue eyes wide. This time he grabbed his gun, saying, “Ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng!” He crossed the cabin in two strides.
“Oh, no!” Freya interrupted. “You are not going to shoot Simon!”
“You ain’t going to be able to give me a compelling enough reason why I shouldn’t!” Mal was livid, but Freya pushed him in the chest with both hands so powerfully that he staggered back. She forced him to his bunk, and his momentum made him sit. She looked down into his face, her hands still on his shoulders.
“Because Simon doesn’t know,” she said softly.
Mal looked at her in surprise. Then hope dawned. “Maybe she –“
“I asked her that, and she said she’d seen a doctor already.”
Hope died and Mal’s eyes became hard. He couldn’t sit – he had to move, had to do something. Sure that he wasn't going to continue in his impulse to separate Simon from his life, Freya let him stand, and she watched him pace the floor.
“How did this happen?” he asked, almost to himself.
“If I have to explain the mechanics to you, I think you’ve been on your own way too long,” Freya joked.
“I ain’t in the mood.” Mal raised his arms, making Freya wince slightly as he waved his gun about. “How could she be so stupid to let this happen?”
Freya sat down out of the way on the bunk. “I don’t reckon she’s thinking like that.”
“Well, she damn well should have been!”
“Actually she doesn’t seem that upset by it at all.”
“Who else knows?” Mal asked, fixing her with his blue eyes.
“We’re it,” Freya said. “She wanted you to know first. I figure she knew what your reaction might be, which is why she asked me to tell you.”
“She afraid of what I might say?”
“Or what you might do.”
“She planning on keeping it? Can’t quite picture my mechanic with a papoose on her back.”
Freya sighed. “I'm not sure she’s actually thought about it.” She looked at Mal. “I'm not even sure she intends to tell Simon.”
Mal raised his eyebrows. “I thought she was smitten.”
“She is. But it occurs to me she’s not quite so sure of his reaction.”
Mal stopped pacing. “He ain’t going to leave Kaylee if she wants to keep him.”
“You were going to shoot him a minute ago,” Freya pointed out, indicating the gun he still held.
He looked at the weapon as if he had forgotten he was holding it. “Well, I’d probably’ve gotten out of the impulse by the time I got there.”
Freya raised an eyebrow at him. “Or you’d have saved the bullet and thrown him out of the airlock.”
“Most like.” Mal dropped his gun back on the table and sat down next to her. “So what now?” he asked.
“I think you’d better go see Kaylee.”
“I guess you’re right.” Mal sighed and nudged her with his elbow. “I wouldn’t really have killed him, I'm sure you’re glad to know.”
“Just wounded him a little?”
“Oh, quite probably,” Mal said firmly.
“Kaylee,” Mal called as he entered the engine room.
“Captain?” Kaylee looked over the edge of her hammock.
Mal stepped closer and looked down at her. Inwardly he sighed. She was so young. He'd never had a sister, but Kaylee was as close as he could get. A little sister, who despite her skills and talents, despite her undeniable ability to look after herself, he still felt the need to protect. Like the rest of his crew, his family.
Kaylee looked into his blue eyes, past the stern expression, and into his soul. She saw the good man he was, and the struggle he had sometimes. And she also saw the concern for her there.
“Freya told you,” she said in a small voice.
“That she did.” He shook his head. “And what would your plans be concerning this here child?”
Kaylee dropped her eyes to her hands, stained as so often with engine grease. “Not rightly sure, Cap’n.”
“Do you want it?”
She looked back up. “I think so. It’s mine and Simon’s – I can’t think of …” She didn’t finish.
Mal took hold of one of her hands in his and squeezed gently. “Little Kaylee, whatever you want to do, I’ll be there to make sure it happens.” He gave a half-smile. “Still, I think you’d better tell the proud father-to-be. He surely has a right to know.”
Kaylee nodded. “I’ll do it now.” She rolled from her hammock and left the engine room, encountering Freya just outside. They hugged briefly then Kaylee hurried on. Freya, in the meantime, stepped over the sill and saw Mal standing staring at Serenity’s engine, the spinning seeming to calm him.
“I'm proud of you,” she said, coming up to him and putting her arm around him.
“You handled that real well.”
He glanced at her. “I still feel like seeing if that young man can breathe space,” he admitted.
“Yes. So do I. But we haven’t.”
“The night ain’t over yet,” Mal said darkly.
Simon was in with River, admiring the fine dress she’d bought for herself on Persephone. River was pirouetting, smiling widely, when all of a sudden she stopped, caught her balance, and stared at the open door.
“River?” Simon asked, moving forward on the bunk.
“Baby,” River said quietly.
Before her brother could react, Simon heard his name being called. It was Kaylee. “In here,” he responded.
Kaylee appeared in the doorway, her normally cheerful face solemn and somewhat drawn.
“What is it?” Simon asked, immediately concerned. “Don’t you feel well?” He got off the bed and took her by the arm, leading her inside.
“Baby,” River repeated, as if that was all that needed to be said.
Simon looked from his sister to his girlfriend, unable to make the connection. Then it exploded in his brain. “Kaylee?” he whispered.
“I shoulda known you’d know,” Kaylee said to River, the younger girl grinning widely.
Simon tightened his grip on Kaylee’s arm. “You’re … pregnant?”
Kaylee gave a brief smile. “Sure am. And you’re hurting a little.”
“Sorry.” Simon released her, backing away.
“And it’s yours, in case you were wondering,” Kaylee added quickly. “I wouldn’t be with another man.”
Simon nodded quickly. “I know. It’s not that.”
Kaylee stuck out her chin defiantly. “Then what?”
“You’re so young …” he said lamely.
“My momma had me before she was my age. And two brothers. It ain’t unnatural, Simon.”
“But you’re –“
“Contraception can go wrong,” River put in. “It’s a well documented and historical fact.” She smiled. “I like babies.”
Kaylee, while not surprised at how he was taking this, wished his reaction was different. She felt tears poking hotly at her eyes. “Don’t worry, Simon,” she said. “I'm not going to be asking you to marry me. What I do is … well, my decision.” She turned and hurried out, not wanting to let him see her cry.
“You’re a dummy,” River said flatly to her brother, shaking her head sadly.
“What?” Simon was staring at the door.
“Go after her.”
Simon glanced at his sister. “I handled that badly, didn’t I?”
“Go after her,” River repeated. “Tell her properly.”
Simon nodded and River watched him run from the cabin. She shook her head again. He could be such a boob at times, so difficult to look after. Like all the rest of the crew.
Heading through the cargo bay Simon encountered Mal, who glared at him with such ferocity he just knew the captain knew. Oh God. That would mean one of their little ‘chats’, when he always felt a hair’s breadth away from a bullet. “Later,” he called, running towards and up the stairs.
Mal glowered after him. That young man was heading for trouble, one way or the other.
Kaylee’s door was firmly shut, but he’d come this far. He pushed and the metal hatch slid back, and he heard crying from inside. His heart contracted as he stepped onto the rungs, climbing down.
Kaylee was sitting on her bunk, her legs drawn up, her back to him.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean … I'm sorry.” He felt so awkward.
“No need, Dr Tam,” Kaylee said, not turning. “You just stay out of it. I’ll deal.”
He moved a little closer, releasing his hold on the ladder. “I don’t want to stay out. This is my baby too.”
“Don’t sound like it.”
“Kaylee …” He touched her shoulder. She turned to look at him, her normal happy demeanour for once submerged under despair.
“What? What, Simon? I know you weren’t lookin’ for this – me neither. But it’s happened. If you’re not interested then I will deal.”
He sat down on the bunk next to her. “It was a shock, I can’t deny that.” He reached up and wiped the tears from her cheek, smiling tentatively. “But any baby of yours is going to be so pretty.”
“And smart. Your smarts.” Her tears had stopped, dammed by Simon’s gentleness.
“Yours too. Our baby could be a genius.”
“Ours?” Kaylee swallowed.
“Ours,” Simon asserted, moving forward and taking her into his arms. “Even if you won’t marry me, I'm not going anywhere.”
Kaylee wrapped her arms around him, and they held each other tightly. “Ain’t lookin’ for marriage,” she said quietly. “Not yet. Not if …”
Simon smiled and kissed the top of her head. “We have time to talk about that.” He moved her away enough so he could look into her eyes. “I’d better examine you, though. Check everything’s okay.”
“Whatever you say, Simon.” She snuggled back into his embrace. “Whatever you say.”
“And we’ll have to decide when we tell the rest of the crew,” Simon went on. “If River hasn’t done already.”
“She won’t,” Kaylee asserted, smiling again. “She knows it’s something we should do together.”
“Can you imagine what Jayne’s going to say?” Simon added quietly, almost to himself, appalled at the thought.
“If he starts to get rough, just let me deal with him,” Kaylee said firmly.
“Like you deal with everything?” he asked, looking down at her.
“Don’t have to do that on my lonesome anymore,” she said, lifting her lips to be kissed. “Got me a good man.”
“A family man,” Simon said softly. “And that’s going to take a little getting used to.”
“Like you said, we got plenty of time.”
Freya entered the dining area and headed for the kitchen. She had an old pair of Mal’s flannel trousers on, drawn tight around her waist with a heavy leather belt, a shirt that wasn’t tucked in, and bare feet. She also had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Taking a metal cup from a cupboard she checked the temperature of the water in the pot, turning it up to heat. From a drawer she took a silver sachet and pulled the tab, tipping the contents into the cup and topping it up with hot water. She stirred the resulting concoction and went to sit down.
“Can’t sleep?” Mal said from the doorway. Freya turned her head to look at him. He also wore his trousers and boots, but nothing else.
“Seems to have been a bit busy this evening,” Freya said, watching as he crossed to fill a cup of coffee. “And that won’t help you either.”
“What’re you drinkin’?”
Mal made a face but put the cup back. Instead he poured a glass of cider from the flagon on the counter, and joined Freya at the table. “Does it seem a mite cold in here to you?” he asked as he sat down. “Think the life support might be on the fritz?”
Freya smiled and pulled the blanket from her shoulders. “Here,” she said.
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Believe me, your need is greater than mine.” She put the blanket around him, trying to avoid touching his flesh simply because she wasn't sure she could stand the intensity of feeling it brought out in her.
“So what’s keeping you awake?” Mal asked, settling the warmed blanket more securely, unaware of the effect he was having. “Specifically, I mean.”
“I was just trying to imagine a child running around Serenity.”
Mal sighed. “Yeah, me too.”
“We’d be second guessing all the time. Making sure everything was safe. Ship wouldn’t be ours.”
“Don’t seem natural, somehow, does it?” He sipped his cider. “How do you think the doctor took it?”
“Well, we haven’t heard screaming, or gunshots, and Kaylee hasn’t … I think it probably went well. Eventually.”
“Think she pole-axed him?”
“He may well feel like that.” Freya laughed.
Mal smiled. He liked to hear her laugh, and it seemed like it didn’t happen so much these days. Probably his fault. “So, are we ever going to have kids?”
“What?” Freya stared at him, her mouth open.
“Better close up: there’s a train coming,” he added, sipping his cider.
“Well …” Freya began, then took a deep breath and licked her lips. “I guess that would depend on whether we ever sleep together again. You banned me from your bed, remember?”
“Well, I'm thinking I may have been a little over-hasty in that regard.” He looked serious.
“Yeah. I've been meaning to figure a way round it, though.”
“Have you, now.”
Mal looked into her brown eyes, seeing more than a little amusement there. “Aw, hell, Frey, it’s cold. You coming to bed or not?”
Freya bit her lip in mock consternation. “Well, I don’t know …”
Mal leaned forward, the light catching his eyes, warming their blue tones. “My body’s missed you.”
“Only your body?”
“Well, I guess I can’t have you getting frost-bite. The rest of the crew might talk,” Freya said. “So I guess I’ll just have to sleep with you out of sympathy.”
Mal smiled. “As neither of us are very sleepy I wasn’t thinkin’ of there being a whole lot of actual sleeping going on.”
They walked towards the bunks, Mal letting her go first, watching her hips move under the shirt, her bare feet on the metal of the floor. He even opened the hatch for her, allowing her down before him. At that point, however, all restraint went out into the black. As Mal reached the floor, Freya pushed him back to the wall, pressing herself against him, her mouth seeking and finding his. Passion took over, and he grabbed her face, kissing her deeply. She reached down and undid the buttons on his trousers, and he unbuckled her belt. Her pants slid off her hips, and she quickly stepped out of them. The feel of her naked flesh on his was too much for Mal; he lifted her up, turning so that she was leaning on the bulkhead. Wrapping her thighs around his hips, her eyes widened and her lips made an ‘o’ as he slid inside her, and she took a sharp breath.
They paused, almost afraid of the feelings roaring through them, gazing blue eyes into brown, before Mal began to move, stroking inside her. It was over quickly as they sated the immediate need. After a long moment, Mal let her slide to the floor, and they kissed gently, not wanting to break the spell they had created. Now they took the time to undress each other, renewing acquaintance with each other’s bodies.
Freya gently touched the scars on Mal’s chest, while Mal ran his fingers down her tattoo. She too had scars, and he tenderly touched the one on her belly that went all the way through to the back. He remembered that one all too well, having seen the blade go through her, and having been totally unable to do anything about it. He had a similar scar, and when Freya found it he felt a frisson of passion spread through him again, restoring his arousal.
Naked now, they moved to his bunk, taking time with their lovemaking, enjoying the feel of flesh on flesh. Their skins dampened with sweat, touching and tasting, before Freya straddled him, taking him into her and moving slowly, certainly, seductively, not losing eye contact as he stroked every inch of her skin.
This time, when they finally came deeply together, the room pulsing with their intensity, Serenity seemed to sigh, settling into herself, as if she was complete once more.
Later, that night, Mal watched her sleep. She’d put a spell on him, and he was loving every minute of it. He knew the whole crew had wanted this, and he could imagine their faces when they found out, particularly River’s. She was going to act like it was all her idea. But that wasn't why he’d finally taken her back into his bed. He wanted her. So badly he could taste it.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead, moving a lock of hair from her eyes. She smiled in her dreams and leaned into him more. His arm around her tightened.
He’d been so scared to let her back in, afraid if she left him again it would be the death of him. Even River saying she’d never go unless he told her wasn’t enough. But seeing her sitting there, her bare feet curled around the legs of the chair, her hair mussed from where she’d been trying to relax enough to sleep … he couldn’t help himself. And now he was luxuriating in the feeling of her in his arms, laying against him, her flesh against his. Tomorrow they would move her stuff back in with his, and her incense burner would nestle snugly against his shaving equipment again, where it should be.
He didn’t pray, hadn’t done in a long while, and he didn’t now, but he thanked whatever might be out there for his good fortune in finding her again. She turned slightly, her breast rubbing against his chest, and he wondered if it was against the rules to wake her up so he could make love to her again.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006 4:10 AM
Tuesday, October 10, 2006 9:13 AM
Sunday, April 20, 2008 7:48 AM
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