Standard Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Firefly characters, settings or concepts. This is not a challenge to any copyright.

This is also kind of graphic. Yeah.

Shared with the express permission of the one that this story was written for. Love ya, dork. ;)

Valleys

Ten minutes. That was how long he'd been on this overcrowded di yu of a station before he wanted to get right the hell off of it again. Too many people in too small an area, bumping and jostling and generally being in his way. Better to get this done, round up his crew and get back home. They were supposed to meet him at the mail counter thirty minutes ago. He was less than surprised that that they weren't there. Cursing under his breath, he scanned the crowd again, looking for something familiar, Jayne's big useless head or Wash's ugly shirt.

He found something else.

At first he wasn't sure that it was her. It had been six years, and people change. He didn't want to think about how much he'd changed. But it sure looked like her, the eyes, the smile. Same build, short and curvy, and though she'd put on a few pounds since then, it looked good on her. If it was her. She was still beautiful.

He stared at the woman, simultaneously hoping that she would turn and look at him, and that she wouldn't, that she was somewhere safe and happy, not on a crappy frontier space station full of petty criminals and riff raff.

She turned towards him a little more and he saw a flash of silver at her throat, and he knew.

Six years earlier

He stalked past the rows of the dead and kicked at a crow that was gorging itself on one of his former comrades. That he couldn't shoot it made it worse. He didn't know if he was madder at the crow or at the Alliance troops that had beaten them here in this valley and left them all to die. It had been six days since the shooting stopped, and even their own side had abandoned them while the surrender talks went on. And on. No supplies, no medical, nothing. Meanwhile, the wounded died slow, and everyone else starved and got sick and watched their friends die, and wondered if anyone was ever going to come.

What was left of headquarters had set up a makeshift hospital in the cavern system that had given the Alliance such hell. They were deep, originally to protect from bombardment, and since the surrender, it was just too much effort to move it. What little rations left were distributed from there, as well as medical HQ, which was doing what it could with absolutely nothing.

His people were dying. And he couldn't do jack shit about it. So he went to make sure that he wasn't the only one that was frustrated.

Which sounded like a good idea at the time. But he hadn't exactly spent a lot of time there, and with the cave ins and general confusion, he quickly became lost. And he'd be damned if he was going to ask directions.

Turning a corner, he realized that he had wandered into one of the least developed tunnels and turned to go back,when he heard a sound that sounded so out of place that he had to stop and listen... singing. A woman, with a voice like an angel, singing an old song, one brought from Earth That Was. "Crazy... crazy for being so lonely..."

Forgetting his anger, he followed the voice down the cavern, pausing outside the alcove it was coming from. There was a crude sign taped outside the entrance which said " Lt. Pamela Hunt, RN. Keep out!"

Mal, never much caring what the scenery wanted, pulled aside the curtain covering the entrance. Inside was a surprisingly large room, carved from rock to make what was almost certainly meant to be a senior officer's quarters. There was a dresser, a private 'fresher in the corner, and an honest to sha yu wan bed. And sitting on the edge of the bed was the Angelic voice. And Angel she was. She looked up in surprise, and he fell into her eyes. They were the most amazing hazel color, but it wasn't just their color. They were big and expressive, and he just fell into them. She had red hair, and a heart shaped face. Her perky nose perfectly complimented her cheekbones, and her lips made Mal wonder what it felt like to kiss them. And her body...

Compact and curvy, Mal felt his heart skip a beat. He had always admired women with curves, and hers were tremendous. His gaze traveled down to her breasts...

"Ahem. Can I help you, Sergeant?" She didn't bother to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Her tone brought Mal crashing back to reality. "I certainly hope so. Ran out of food three days ago, and meds not much after that. Can't get any answers from anyone. Who the hell is in charge around here? My people can't last much longer!"

The Angel's eyes clouded over and Mal could immediately feel her anger. She stood up and walked over to him, and the difference in their heights seemed to faze her not a bit. She got up in his face, her voice rising. "Your people? EVERYBODY is dying here! THERE ARE NO SUPPLIES. We have no antibiotics, no painkillers. No food. I haven't slept for I don't know how long. What the hell do you want me to do?" Her anger had turned to frustration, tears running down her face. Mal felt his anger melting away. He looked in her eyes and saw that she was on the edge, that she couldn't take the utter helplessness either, not for another minute. They came together in each other's arms, drawn by their mutual need and longing.

She tasted like strawberries. God. He couldn't get enough of her. Fear, pain, frustration, he poured it all into her and she poured hers back, tongues touching, teasing, pulling away, unable to stop, to pull away, their lips pushing, pulling, their teeth gently nipping and biting.

He ran his hand over her back, feeling her tense muscles. His hands slipped down to her hips, held them, reached around to cup her ass. Full, feminine, soft. She made a soft noise into his mouth, then kissed him all the harder, her hands grabbing grabbing his neck, trying to pull him closer, ever closer...

He pulled away, reluctantly. He had to ask. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

She grabbed him by the lapels of his brown coat and kissed him again. "What do you think?" Nuzzling his neck, she reached up and pulled it over his shoulders, then dropped it on the floor and stepped back. Even here, after everything that had happened in the battle, after almost a week of desperately trying to saving the wounded and dying, she was gorgeous. Red blonde hair. Eyes so beautiful that you had a hard time looking away. Perky nose. A mouth made for smiling, laughing, which she seemed not to have done for too long.

And she was taking off her uniform shirt. Mal smiled, and moved to help. Putting his hands gently on both sides of her neck, he slowly slid them down and under the collar of her now unbuttoned shirt, moving it back and letting it, too, fall to the floor.

Her body was... wonderful. Not the blank blandness of a lovebot, but a real woman's beauty. Her shoulders were strong but feminine, her skin so soft and smooth he couldn't believe she had been in this hell as long as he had. He idly wondered for a moment how women did that, but was drawn back in when she reached back and undid her bra, unconsciously biting her lower lip,looking deep into his eyes the whole time. He could feel her frustration and her fear, pain and loss and anger. And her need. And he knew she could feel his.

They gave in to it at the same time. He roughly ripped her undone bra off with his left hand and grasped her left breast from below with his right hand, rolling her nipple and kneading it with the thumb and forefinger, a part of him noticing their dusty rose color and perfect size.

She paused for a moment and closed her eyes, making a small noise deep in her throat, then opened them and reached up, grabbing the back of his head with her right hand and pulling his lips back down to hers. She was stronger than she looked. He reflexively resisted for a moment, to try to assert some control, but his heart really wasn't in it and he quickly gave in. She roughly crushed her lips onto his, her teeth lightly biting his lower lip and pulling on it before releasing it and pressing her open lips back on his. Growling softly, he thrust his tongue into her mouth, tangling desperately with hers. Her grip had shifted, fingers intertwined in his hair. He didn't care.

He felt her left hand fumbling with his zipper and tried to move his left hand to help,but realized that it still held her bra. He threw it somewhere, but by the time he had his zipper open and was grabbing his now thoroughly hard shaft through his underwear. He let go of her breast and quickly shrugged off his suspenders, dropping his pants to the ground without ever pulling away from her kiss.

She took the opportunity to pull his underwear down too, then wrapped one hand around his penis, cupping his testicles with the other. His eyes rolled back in his head and he made an involuntary noise.

He pulled his shirt over his head and stepped out of the puddle of pants around his feet, then undid her trousers and pulled them down to her knees, where she stepped out of them without even looking. He looked down at her hands on his genitals and gently put his hands on hers, then looked up and met her eyes with his. "Stop. Just for a second. I... this is..."

He looked so lost. She put her fingertip on his lips and smiled. "I know. It's ok." She could feel his lips forming a smile under her finger and knew that he wanted to go on. That his erection was still throbbing in her hand only reinforced what she already knew. Still smiling, she led him slowly backwards towards her bunk, her grasp on his nether regions firm but gentle. Bumping into it with the back of her thighs, she sat down, maintaining her hold. She looked up at him, the mischievous gleam in her eyes making him involuntarily clench his anus as the impossible happened, and he got even harder. It was at the point where it almost felt like it would split open like a hotdog, it was so engorged. She slid her hand back along the shaft and lightly squeezed. Just when he thought he was going to explode, she leaned forward and licked the tip of his penis. "Holy...!" he yelped, in a voice that was almost comically high pitched, his hands clenching and unclenching as he searched in vain for something to do with them. He quickly stopped caring when she swirled her tongue over the head, then took the whole thing in her mouth with a slurping sound. His knees got weak and he almost fell before remembering that if he did that, this amazing feeling would stop, and he'd do anything to keep that from happening. As her head moved up and down on him, she looked him in the eyes. He felt as cheeks clench and started to make a low rumbling noise in his throat. Sensing that he was about to cum, she applied more pressure to the base of his penis, stopping his orgasm. She pulled her mouth from him with a wet slurp and wiped her mouth with the hand that formally was on his testes. "Not yet, baby. We've just started. Your turn..."

She let go of him, leaning back on the edge of bed and scooting her hips forward, spreading them and revealing her moist, dewy petals. He looked at it hungrily, idly wondering how she kept it so smooth in a war zone, but the thought didn't stand a chance at the sight of her using her fingers to lightly rub her clitoris. "Come here..." she said, lightly pulling on her left nipple.

He didn't need more of an invitation. Dropping to his knees on the cool stone, he banged his nose on her hand as he dived in to lick her. "Ouch. Sorry. I..."

She leaned back, trying to conceal a smile. "It's ok. But, um, keep going..."

He reached up and gently spread her lips with his thumbs, sticking his tongue inside her before licking upwards, gently teasing the outside of her urethra before making a clockwise pass around her clit. She involuntarily bucked her hips, then grabbed him by the hair and pushed his face between her legs. She ground herself on him, rubbing up and down on his mouth as he desperately tried to keep up. He got a good, closeup look at the delicate flower tattoos on her wrists, but he was too busy trying to hold on to her wildly gyrating torso. Her juices were all over his face, but he didn't care. She tasted clean and fresh, and between that, the noises she was making, her obvious pleasure, and his still painfully hard erection, he gave in and let nature take it's course. He stood up, her hands still entangled in his hair, and wiped off his mouth, then roughly grabbed her hips, parting her lips with the head of his penis before slowly easing himself into her depths. He was amazed by her heat and by how tight she was. Trying to keep some kind of control, he twitched his hips, then slowly pulled out, stopping just before it fell out, then plunging in into her again. She was watching him intently, her tongue slightly protuding from between her lips. A drop of sweat ran between her wonderful breasts, and he wanted to lean over and lick it off, but her hips were doing this amazing thing, lifting and shimmying and my god, she was squeezing him, and it felt so good, so good, so...

He shuddered, one last huge push into her, and his body clenched and his mind exploded and oh,it was so amazing, so wonderful. He practically collapsed on top of her, still buried to the hilt in her, suddenly exhausted. Mal looked in her eyes and realized that he wasn't done yet. He gently kissed her lips, then started again, slowly and then picking up the pace until she cried out, her eyes rolling back in her head and her skin flushing.

Mal gently picked her up and set her on the bunk and crawled in beside her. They were both falling asleep, their frustrations spent and enjoying the peace they had found in each other. He lay there as long as possible, watching her sleep, amazed at the beautiful woman he had just given his virginity to. He kissed her gently, then whispered "I love you" and fell asleep.

She was still asleep when he awoke. He looked at her lying in his arms, his Angel in the middle of Hell. He knew that he had to get back to his platoon, and he didn't know how to say goodbye. He gently rose from her bed and quietly crept to her dresser, finding a pad and pen there.

Dearest Pamela,

I have to go. Got to do my duty. But I'll be back, soon as I can.

Didn't get to talking much last night. My name is Malcolm Reynolds, and I'm with the 51st Overlanders, or what's left of us. We're in the west caves. I have to see what I can do for them.

Thank you. For last night. I'm sure you've figured this, but that was my first time. With a woman. Or anyone. You know what I mean.

I'd like to get to know you better, if I could. So here's what I'm doing. My mom gave me this to keep me safe. But I can't believe in what it means anymore. It's yours, if you want it. If you never want to see me again, put it away, but don't let it get too far, it kept me alive through this. But if you want to see me again, wear it around your neck. If I see it, I'll know that last night meant something to you, too. Then we can take it from there.

Love,

Mal

On top of the letter was a simple silver cross on a silver chain.

It was less than an hour later that the "High Command" and the Alliance finally came to terms on the surrender and the troops arrived to take them to the camps. Mal almost got shot trying to get back to her, but there were just too many Alliance troops. He searched every POW camp, but no one had any idea where the medical personnel had been taken.

Eventually, he had given up. It was a big 'Verse, and he had no idea where she was from, where she could be.

He had stopped looking, but he had never forgotten. The tattoo on his hip in a delicate floral pattern was there to remind him if he ever did.

He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to reach her before she got away again. The closed he got to her, the more sure he was that is was her. The way she moved, the way she held herself...

It was slow going, but he finally reached her, coming up behind her while she was in line to board a ship. "Pamela?" he asked tentatively. She whipped her head around, suspicion flashing in her eyes. Then she recognized him, and her eyes softened. And then Mal noticed the young boy she was holding onto protectively. As the boy looked up at him, Mal thought his eyes looked strangely familiar.