A/N: Just two random ficlets. May or may not be connected, but for some reason I thought they went well together. Thanks to my friend Samantha (thewolfmistress on LJ) for being the greatest beta ever in the 'verse. Srsly.
ENJOY!
1
Mal briefly wonders how in gorram hell Simon has managed to get completely soaked, before his mind loses control to his nether regions and he starts thinkin' on things he shouldn't. Like how that crisp, white button-down is now clinging to well-formed muscles, pale skin. How that black hair ain't so neat and held together anymore, and now the wet strands are all over the place. Makes Simon look natural, not so wound up. And Mal is hard-pressed to find a reason to not like what he's seeing. Then he notices that the Doc's avoidin' his eyes, lookin' anywhere but at him. Can't fathom what, exactly, that means; but now that pale, pretty face of his has a blush to it. Mal thinks for a minute that he's finally lost it.
When River comes bounding into the room, laughin' like crazy, Mal tears his gaze away from his medic. It takes him a minute to notice the plastic gun in her hand, and he almost panics before he realises it's filled with water. He doesn't even get to put on his 'give me answers, now' look before the young girl rolls her eyes at him, and explains as though he was slow, "Got it planetside. Water guns are insufficient for causing harm." She looks at it like it's gorram candy, and continues, "A gun that does not hurt...I find it to be quite enjoyable." And before he can reprimand her, she's off like a rocket and grinning like a maniac. Probably goin' to find some other target.
Mal looks up at Simon again, only to find his mind getting muddled once more. He thinks it ain't right the man addles his brain so. But he does, and there ain't no gettin' around that. Opens his mouth to talk, and Simon gives a shy smile and cuts him off. "I'd better go stop her before she finds her next victim." He gestures loosely to his own soaked clothes. Mal swallows back his lust, thick like syrup, and nods curtly.
And as Simon leaves the common room, Mal can't help but close his eyes and fall onto the couch. Thinks maybe he'll chalk it all up to space madness.
2
Simon sighs down at Mal, sprawled as he is on the infirmary bed. It was supposed to be a quick drop-off. Of course, the idiot would go and get himself shot. Extracting the bullet is easy, and Simon's hands are steady. But inside he's shaken like nothing before. Wants so badly to tremble. Once the Captain's nice and bandaged and stable, the room slowly clears out, until only he, Inara, and Mal are left. She's looking pale and drawn, and looking down at Mal as though waiting for a miracle.
"It's not that bad," he finds himself saying. When she looks up at him, he can see the unshed tears in her eyes. "He'll be fine. It might be a while until he wakes up. You should go rest for a bit; you look exhausted."
"I could say the same for you." And there's a hardness in her eyes, like maybe she can tell. What he's thinking, what he's feeling. Simon smiles tiredly.
"You'll be the first to know when he wakes up. I promise." And as they stare at each other, something is understood. She backs down, nods, and walks out of the room.
And Simon feels like a selfish ass, wanting Malcolm Reynolds all to himself. Especially when the man's laying there with a bullet hole in him. That's when the tears come. Mal's still asleep from the meds, so Simon takes his hand in his. Feels the calluses like he's touching earth, feeling something real on his skin after so long just wondering. Truth be told, the wound had been pretty bad. If it had been an inch to the left, the bullet would've punctured his lung. Tears are coming slowly, and he speaks through them, voice trembling, "You're a moron, Malcolm Reynolds."
He nearly jumps out of his own skin when the older man squeezes his hand, and mumbles sleepily, "Don't I know it." And Simon almost starts to laugh while he's crying, still holding onto Mal's hand. Yeah; definitely a moron.