to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites. firefly/serenity. river tam/malcolm reynolds. post-bdm. they're like comets, except they travel by two. title from death cab for cutie's passenger seat.
"You up early, little one." He's rubbing his face tiredly as he comes up on the bridge, instantly noticing the small figure huddled on the co-pilot's seat.
"Is it morning time already?" she asks. "I got lost watching a star fade away." She cranes her neck and he sees the exhaustion look in her wide eyes, pupils dilated, darkening her gaze.
River looks as lost as he is, two aimless comets drifting away in the black, but traveling side by side – but given the choice to leave her there lying in the middle of the bar so he could go his own way, he'd pick her up in his arms do it all over again.
He trails his fingers along the delicate line of her jaw. "Go and get some sleep."
His voice is rough from sleep and all she wants to do is bury her face against his neck so he can hum and she can feel the vibrations of his vocal folds.
"It's okay."
"Don't want you nodding off while flying. You don't want to crash her, don't you?"
Her brows furrow. "That would be problematic."
He smiles, eyes twinkling in the dim light. "That's my little albatross."
When she rises to her feet, he can't help but slide an arm around her shoulders and bring her close. He doesn't know why he does that – he sees her and just wants her close for a little while. (maybe because they need that, having someone pressed against them, to know that they're not really drifting away, and that despite feeling lost, they're not alone.)
His lips are warm against her forehead; it makes her smile. "Night, River."
"Morning, Mal," and his chest rumbles against her as he laughs.
She leaves quietly and tiptoes back to her room. She's asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow; she dreams of stars fading into the black, and comets traveling side by side. They dance around each other without ever touching, delicate and endless.
