Based on: "The way you look tonight" by Bing Crosby

Summary: Fluff. Yup, mushy mushy fluff.

River was curled up in the copilot's chair on the bridge. It was the middle of the night and she couldn't sleep. She had a bad nightmare for the first time in awhile. It shook her to her very core. The dark images filled with Reavers, needles, and hands of blue drained any happiness or warmth she had left. But then, she felt him and all the warmth came back with a joyful glow. He was on his way to the bridge. Just thinking about him made all of her nightmares melt away.

"Well, well. What's my albatross doin' up at this hour anyhow?" his voice floated to her.

She spun around with a smile. He was leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. His hair was messy, probably from tossing and turning, his blue shirt was only half buttoned and buttoned wrong at that, he was still in his pajama pants, and yet somehow he looked more amazing than usual.

She looked more incredible than usual. Her hair was messy, probably from tossing and turning, her robe had been tossed on in a hurry and tied wrong, she was in her flannel night clothes that Simon had given her as a hand-me-down, and yet she took his breath away. And that smile, it burned through him with the intensity of a laser gun.

"Couldn't sleep. What is my captain doing up at this hour?" she returned with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I couldn't sleep either. Wanna be sleep deprived together?"

"Always."

He moved forward, wasting no time to get to her. He reached down, caressing her soft cheek and then planting a kiss there before moving to her mouth and kissing her, hard. He could tell just from the way she kissed him back that it was one of those times. The bad times that she struggled through. All he could do was love her, which he did love her unconditionally and more than anything in the entire 'verse.

He pulled her into his arms, sitting back down with her on his lap. "Nightmares?" he asked.

She nodded, snuggling closer to him. He tenderly moved his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asked.

"No."

"Okay. I'm here, whatever you need me to do…" he whispered into her hair, gently kissing her neck.

She smiled. He was the kindest, most gentle man. Sure he was an intimidating badass, but a kind and gentle badass.

He kept kissing her neck, eventually running his lips down her collarbone. She laughed when they found a particularly ticklish spot. He loved it when she laughed. It got to him and invaded his being. It was like her voice was his heartbeat, as sappy as it sounds.

She grew quiet, almost deathly quiet. It helped to have him there, but the nightmares were strong. He felt her tense up in his arms.

"What can I do to help you out, darlin'?" he asked dryly. He hated it when she was upset.

"Being here helps."

"Not enough. Are you sure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"Ghosts like poison gas. Floating through a crack under the door. Deadly, sudden, invisible until it was too late."

He hugged her tighter and tucked her neatly under his chin.

"Bad memories I take it," he said finally in a low voice. He always understood. Always.

"I should stop talking in metaphors. The others don't like it. They think I'm crazy. Don't understand."

"No. No. Don't you ever change. I fell in love with you. I love you."

She nodded and kissed him on the jaw, since it was the only thing she could reach in their current position. He forgot to breathe. He always forgot to breathe. First she steals his heart, then his soul, and now his breath.

She grinned, picking up on the thought.

"Breathless charm? Never thought I had charm. Grace, maybe. But charm…" she sighed mischievously.

"Well, yeah. You got a way about you that I really really like…" he said, blushing slightly.

"I love you, Malcolm Reynolds. Even when you're as disheveled as you are tonight."

He smiled, taking it as it was. He kissed the top of her head. "I love you too, little one. Even when you're wearin' flannel."

She giggled. "I think I can pull it off."

"You can pull off anything."

"Do your clothes count?"

It was his turn to laugh. She felt it rumble in his chest.

"I'll take that as a yes. May that count right now?" she asked.

He didn't have to open his mouth. She was already out of the chair and pulling him off of the bridge with that smile burnin' through him again. He loved how she looked in that frumpy robe with the ugly flannel pants swishing behind her that were at least four sizes too big. How they stayed on her, he didn't know.

"You won't have to find out since they won't…" she laughed as she slammed him against the wall to kiss him everywhere.

"Gorram woman…I am so in love with you…"

"I am pretty great."

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Ain't you forgettin' somethin'? Three words…"

"I look great?"

She laughed at the look on his face.

"I ain't goin' nowhere 'til you say it."

"I love you, you messy, unkempt-"

"Don't push it."

She laughed again, the pain and fear of the night gone. They both thought the same thing as they stumbled into his bunk.

I love you, just the way you look tonight…just the way you look tonight.

The end

Once again, thanks for reading. Reviews touch my foolish heart!