Title: Seven Sins of Malcolm Reynolds Author: Obsidiana Girl Feedback: obsidianagirl@yahoo.com

Disclaimer: Sorry not mine, because if it were I would have found more reasons for Nathan Fillion to get nekkid…LOL…As it is I’m an unemployed chef with way too much time on my hands. So, suing would get you nothin’ but lint. Joss Whedon is the brain child who came up with the show…Ain’t he great?

Rating: AO as in ADULTS ONLY Summary: Mal’s slippery slope.

Author’s Note: I’ll give a Nathan Mal clone to the first person that can tell me which literary work I pay homage to in this piece.

Mal was the first to admit he was a fan of all seven deadly sins, but really, at the time it had just been talk. That crazy, stupid thing you said to get the other fella’ riled up, but as he contemplated his resent slide toward damnation visiting each of the seven with increasing ardor he realized just how much he actually did enjoy all seven.

The first time could have been considered an accident, a mistake that shouldn’t be repeated, but Malcolm Reynolds had moved past the accidental and moved firmly into the wickedly, premeditated.

He actively sought out the road and then purchased the map, just to be sure he wouldn’t wander off the path on his way to the special hell that was River Tam. There were seven stops on that road to hell and it was paved with lost buttons, torn panties, and the commingled sweat of their two bodies.

The first step onto that road was PRIDE and though it doesn’t seem like such a horrible sin Malcolm Reynolds knew different. Pride did indeed come before the fall. It happened that day when they told the world about Miranda. Those blast doors opened and there she stood chest heaving and body glistening with sweat and he had been scared, relieved, aroused, and not just a little proud that she’d kicked some major Reaver ass. She made him proud and his fall was imminent and almost laughably quick.

When it was all said and done, he and the remaining bits of his crew were far too busy rebuilding their home for him to realize that he spent an inordinate amount of time with her on his mind…the image of her chest heaving and sweat slicking her body.

In fact, he made it all the way to the second stop on his personal map to hell before he figured it out. Then he found himself trying to control the ENVY he felt because Simon was allowed to hold her and touch her and make her smile. He finally started to see how far down the road to hell he’d actually traversed.

It wasn’t until Jayne took it into his head that maybe little River could teach him a thing or two in the hand to hand arena, that Mal careened down into WRATH at break neck speed. Not knowing about the hand to hand practice, Mal hit the ceiling when he found River nursing a black eye. Jayne had learned a few things from River, but Mal had anger on his side. Afterwards of course he felt like a gorram horse’s ass. He’d hit that stop so fast he knew there was no going back now, besides his momentum carried him to the fourth stop…

Malcolm Reynolds was a scavenger, however he had never been particularly greedy, but with one deep, penetrating kiss his AVARICE was born. They’d just gotten back aboard after a heist gone wrong in which he’d been grazed by a bullet. He tried to pass off his reaction to the medications the Doc had pumped into him while he stitched him up. The truth was that when he watched her raise first one knee and then the other onto his bed in the infirmary and crawl slowly up his body with animal like grace, he was a goner. Staring him deep in the eye before claiming his mouth in a kiss so deep he was sure she’d found his soul and he’d found heaven. That was convenient since she was damning him to hell with each slide of her tongue and every scrape of her teeth against his lips.

The last three stops on his special map were just a hop, skip and a jump from each other, so he didn’t have far to travel to reach his destination and damn, if he didn’t enjoy every step he took on his way to hell.

It wasn’t long before LUST reared its randy head and he was finished. He found himself planning and scheming different ways to possess her and that is how they came to be here at the bottom of his bunk ladder. Her back was pressed to the wall, legs around his waist with one foot braced against the ladder and the other pressed tight to his ass, as he buried himself inside her repeatedly.

She was beautiful, her breasts heaving and her body glistening with the sweat he put there. Leaning in he devoured her breasts, sucking her hardened nipples and scraping gently with his teeth.

She was pure sunshine on a rainy day and he was starving for light. Her moans sent a shiver down his spine and he knew he would never get enough of her.

It was GLUTTONY the way he took her at every opportunity. In the kitchen bent over the counter from behind, laid out over the dining room table, pinned to the cargo bay floor, his face buried between her thighs on the catwalk, and here in his bunk against the wall. He felt her start to shudder and shake and he knew that all he had to do was nibble her neck in just the right way and she would fall apart around him. Putting theory into practice, he proceeded to make her scream his name as first she came and then dragged him over the edge with her.

“Do you think we’ll make it to a bunk one day?” Mal gasped as he collapsed back against the steps of the ladder. “I’m so tired I think I could sleep for a week.

“Then I guess your last stop to our special hell will indeed be SLOTH.” She laughed as she slithered down his body and gracefully walked over to his bed, draping her self there before giving him a wicked come-hither smile. “Come on, Mal, there are seven circles of hell and I want to explore every one of them before the others get back from the market.”

“Yes, ma’am…” he said as he slowly crawled into the bunk and sprawled on top of her. “I love the hell out of you!” He murmured right before they slipped into dreamless sleep in the seventh circle of their own special hell.