Disclaimer: Don't own Firefly or Mal or River or Simon—and let me tell you, I cry over it all the time. Oh, I don't own Shakespeare either.
A/N: This doesn't have any spoilers, and maybe it doesn't have any plot either, but I'll be damned if I love the idea any less. Sure someone out there could have written it better, someone who doesn't actively struggle with the idea of happiness…Anyway, Mal PoV, Post-BDM, Mal/Inara implied. All quotes from Hamlet said by Ophelia. Shutting up now.
Read, enjoy, let me know what you think.
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Mal knew something was off the morning River started throwin' flowers at him.
Looking up from his bowl of protein, which was currently pretending to be some kind of soup, he fixed her with a captain-y stare.
"Don't mind me askin' little witch, but what in the hell do you think you're doin'?"
River threw another handful of flowers in his face and he coughed when, what he figured to be, a violet landed too close to his mouth. After another wave of petals (which he had the growing suspicion might just be one and the same with the flowers the doc had bought his mechanic on their last stop dirt side) he pushed away from the table and stood, looking down at his resident reader and co-pilot. The girl beat him 'fore he could even get a word out.
"'Thought and affliction, passion, hell itself, she turns to favor and to prettiness…'"
"Huh?"
River visibly rolled her eyes before she threw another fistful of crinkled petals at him.
"Hey, stop that!"
The flowers persisted and the girl started skipping around him.
"'Pray let's have no words of this, but when they ask you what it means, you say this: Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's Day.'"
"No it ain't."
The girl kept raining flowers down on him and his hand reached for his gun more than once—not that it would do him much good realistically, since she could probably snap his arm in half before he even touched the trigger, but it did make him feel a little better. Though not by much.
"River darlin' you need me to be fetch your brother?"
The girl came to a halt in front of him and cocked her head to the side. "'Let in the maid.'" She said with a small smile that barely passed the corners of her mouth. She started backing away. "'Never departed more.'"
"Dummy talk lil' albatross—"
But she was already half out of the mess, a trail of flowers following her steps.
"I was talking to you!" Mal started to follow. "And don't think you ain't cleaning this up."
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The trail ended right at 'Nara's door and the girl was no where in sight.
"No what in gorra—"
"Language Captain." He spun in place and found himself face-to-face with possibly the last person he'd ever want to be found standing ankle deep in flower petals by.
"Now what have I told you about sneaking around my boat. Ain't safe, 'Nara, I might of—"
"Hit me with a daisy?" the corners of her mouth twitched in a smile, just like the one River had worn right before she'd made her get away.
"Very funny, but I didn't do this." He motioned to the mess they were standing in.
"Why Captain, there's no need to be embarrassed. I rather like it. I think Serenity deserves a more feminine motif." The smile spread further and he could almost venture to call it a real-and-true smile.
He stared at her silently for half second, debating whether he should walk away now with her in a good mood or wait till she sent him away screaming.
"Have you seen River?" It seemed like a safe middle for the time being.
"Yes, she was in the bay with Jayne."
"Was she throwin' flowers?"
The smile faded somewhat in light of her barely contained confusion. "What?"
He decided against recounting this morning's run in with the girl and settled instead for taking his leave.
Walking away he heard her as she entered her shuttle, tryin' to ignore River's words.
'Let in the maid…Never departed more.' Whatever the hell that was s'pose to mean.
He heard a crunch under his foot just as he was turning back into the whole of Serenity, one that didn't match that of the dozen petals and plant parts pervious to it. Looking down he noted the white piece of paper sticking out from under his boot.
Bending, he looked around, looking for some trace of the crazy girl, and when he found none he devoted his attention back to the paper in his hands.
"Ask her to stay."
And in the following silence that was cancelled out some by the roaring in his ears he could almost swear he heard the word 'boob'.
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The End
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