Disclaimer: Joss owns "Buffy," he also owns "Firefly," I own my carry-on bag.
AN: This was written for MusesInspiration over at Paradise Lost as a Christmas present. Thank you RevDorothyL for betaing!
Buffy looked out over the vast field of stars from her seat in the co-pilot's chair, enjoying the relative peace away from the clamor of the rest of the crew, needing a moment to herself. It'd been a long day, between threatening to castrate Jayne for the umpteenth time, dodging bullets from yet another group of pissed-off wannabe bandits, arguing with Captain Tightpants over something stupid, and holding parts for Kaylee as she fixed the engine.
"What you thinking about, darlin'?" Huh. Speak of the Captain. She looked up at him and smiled tiredly, as he continued, "Missed you in the mess and wondered where you'd wandered off to."
"Just needed some time to be, Mal," she reassured him. "Long day, and all that. Dodging bullets is hard work, no matter what they keep telling me." His eyes, so unlike Caleb's that it made the resemblance slightly less on the uncanny side of things, crinkled with laughter, and he sat down on the floor next to her.
"Sorry 'bout that," he apologized, his hand running up and down the arm closest to him. "Won't let it happen again."
"Why don't I believe you?" Buffy asked, sliding out of the chair to join him and intertwining her hand with his. "Maybe it's because your mouth moved."
"I take offense at that remark, missy," he protested in mock-outrage, grabbing her and pulling her into his lap, partially facing him. "Not everything that comes out of this mouth is a lie."
"Like what?" Buffy challenged with a playful smile, snuggling further into his embrace.
"Well, uh... ," he answered, searching his brain. "When I think of something, I'll be sure to tell you." Buffy shook her head and they lapsed into silence. "Seriously, Buffy, is there any other reason why you've been keeping to yourself lately?" he asked, squeezing her hand slightly and using his free hand to turn her face towards his. She looked up at him, and wondered if she should tell him what had been on her mind all day.
"Just homesick, Mal, that's all," she answered. "I've been missing everyone more than most days." He squeezed her hand tighter, and kissed her forehead before capturing her lips in a soft kiss. She moaned slightly as he deepened it, his tongue gently teasing hers. They broke apart, each slightly breathless.
"I love you." The words slipped out before Buffy fully realized that they had even been forming in her brain, going straight to her mouth.
"What did you just say?" Mal asked, looking at her with an unreadable expression. Oh, shit, she really hadn't meant to say that. "Did you just say you loved me?"
"S-sorry, you must've heard me wrong," Buffy stammered out, trying to backtrack. Before Mal could say anything else, she broke free and retreated to her room. Collapsing onto her bed, she put her face in her hands and tried to calm herself down. What the hell, Buffy? she admonished herself. You can barely be in the same room with him without either screaming at him or making with the smoochies. Why the freaking hell did you say that? Things between her and Mal were complicated enough without her adding love into the mix. She had enough experience in that particular department to know that love and her were un-mixy things, and combining the two led to disasters of apocalyptic proportions.
She didn't sleep well that night, her mind too busy trying to come to terms with what had just happened. She woke up bleary-eyed and slightly irritable, not helped by the fact that River had somehow managed to get into her room again.
"What do you want?" she growled at the girl, running a hand tiredly through her hair. River didn't say anything at first, just studying Buffy. "Yes? Do I have something on my gorram face?"
"Everything leaves a stain," River told her solemnly. "No amount of paint can cover it up." Buffy rolled her eyes and quickly got ready. She wasn't looking forward to seeing Mal and the awkwardness that would inevitably ensue. To her surprise, however, Mal never showed up in the mess for breakfast, and he never came to the engine room while she was helping Kaylee to see how they were doing, like he did most days.
"Wash, have you seen the captain anywhere?" she asked the pilot later that day after not seeing Mal--not that she was really going looking for him.
"I think he was holed up with Zoe talking about a potential job, but that was a few hours ago," Wash answered, looking up from his toy dinosaurs. "Why? You need anything?"
"No, just wondering, that's all," she answered, not wanting to let the other man in. It wasn't that she didn't like Wash--he was her favorite person on this ship, after Kaylee--it was just she didn't want her personal business out to air like last week's dirty laundry.
Heaving a sigh of frustration, Buffy settled down on the catwalk overlooking the cargo bay, her feet dangling and her head resting against one of the support bars. Did I just monumentally screw things up with Mal? she wondered silently, staring at nothing in particular. Is he offended by me saying I was sorry last night? Was she sorry, though? Did she really mean what had just come shooting out of her mouth, or was it just a heat of the moment type thing? Groaning, she resisted the urge to bang her head against the crossbar and tried to sort out her feelings for Mal.
Finally making up her mind about what to do, she quietly got to her feet and went roaming Serenity, trying to locate the wayward captain. It was easier than she'd expected, given his relative absence throughout the day. It only took her around five minutes to find him in the mess, talking to Jayne.
Walking up to Mal and ignoring the fact that Jayne was also in the cramped room, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him down for a hard kiss. He was stunned for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her hands. "What was that for?" he demanded, studying her face.
"I unapologize," she told him bluntly.
"What?" he asked, an adorable confused expression on his face. She rolled her eyes.
"When I told you I was sorry last night," she explained, meeting his gaze. "I unapologize. I love you, Malcolm Reynolds, and if you can't deal with that... well, too bad for you!"
"That's what's been eatin' you up all day?" he asked, his face quickly changing from confused to amused. "You thought you by sayin' you were sorry, you went and alienated me from you?"
"Why else were you being big with the avoidance all day?" Buffy asked him, looking up at him.
"I figured you needed to work things out in that pretty little head of yours," he told her with a chuckle, pulling her closer to him, as Jayne left, muttering about them needing a room. "Hell, I've been needing to do some working out my own self, given what's been happening between the two of us."
"So, you weren't offended or anything when I said I was sorry?" she asked, trying to make sure.
"Darlin', I was just as surprised as you were that those words came flying out of your mouth," he reassured her, lowering his voice and resting his head against hers. "Not to say that I don't appreciate them or would mind hearing them again." Buffy let out a relieved laugh and wrapped her arms around him.
"I was just worried that I got you mad or something, and the awkwardness of it and..." Before she could continue her babbling, he gave her a good, long kiss that left her weak at the knees and erased any doubts she might still have about him being angry at her.
"Now, what do you say we take this back to my room, and you can show me just how unapologetic you really are?" he muttered into her ear. She gave a small shriek when he picked her up and started carrying her in that direction, but otherwise didn't protest.
Later that night, as Buffy was drifting off to sleep tangled up in Mal, she felt him gently kiss her cheek before whispering softly, "Love you, darlin'. And I ain't apologizing for saying it." Buffy smiled and moved further into his arms.
"And here I was thinking you'd be forgetting that," she murmured.
"Forget? Sweetheart, I'm never going to let you forget that unapology of yours," he told her, laughter in his voice. She opened her eyes and gave him a half-hearted glare.
"Whatever," she answered before closing her eyes again. "Just remember that when you find your favorite shirt dyed purple in the not too distant future."