firefly: mal

600 Follower Ficlet (1/10)

@yourtropegirl requested a Mal Reynolds reader insert with the prompt “don’t you think all this posturing is pointless?”


You glance up at the screen on the console before you as you set course for Beylix in the Kalidasa system.  The captain had promised that work awaited the crew there – work that a friend of his had left undone when he’d been captured by the Alliance – and so you’d punched the coordinates into the ship’s autopilot and allowed Serenity to take over carrying the lot of you there.

With one last double-check of your course and a fond look at the small plastic dinosaurs the pilot before you had decorated the console with, you stand from your seat and brush a bit of dust off of your leggings.  You give Kaylee a smile and a wave as she fiddles with something on a control panel on the other side of the bridge and take your leave, making your way toward the dining area.

You can hear them long before you can see them: Mal and Jayne arguing.  Rolling your eyes, you round the corner and step into the dim light of the kitchenette, hands on your hips and gaze leveled on the two men circling one another near the table.

“Gorram it, Mal,” Jayne barks.  “Beylix is crawling with feds.  We’ll never make it out with the cargo.  Hell, we’ll never make it in in the first place.”

You glance over at Simon as you stop a short distance away from the men and chuckle inwardly at his expression.

“This been going on for a while?”  You ask.

Simon nods, shaking his head and muttering something about egos as he turns away to pour himself a glass of water. You turn your attention away from him and move toward Mal and Jayne, stepping in between them and putting a hand on either of their chests.

Don’t you think all this posturing is pointless?”  You ask, raising an eyebrow and glancing back and forth between them.

“He’s out of his gorram mind,” Jayne snaps. “We’re never gonna pull this job off.”

“Respect your captain, Jayne,” you admonish. “One day, when you’re all grown up and have a ship of your own, you can run it however you want.  For now, you let Mal worry about the logistics.”

“It’s not just his ass on the line,” Jayne snarls, pushing your hand off of his chest, turning on his heel and storming away, his heavy footfalls echoing through the halls right up until he disappears into his bunk.

You slowly turn to face Mal, bracing your hands on his chest, smiling warmly up at him.  There’s no one in the world whose smile can rival the sunshine that it Kaylee’s, but Mal’s got a special spot in his heart for you and you feel some of the tension leave his body immediately.

“I should have thrown him out of the airlock when I had the chance,” Mal grouses.

You take another step toward him, closing the distance between the two of you, pressing your chest to his with a smile.  You rise up on the balls of your feet, craning your neck to press your lips to his.  You’re relieved when he leans forward into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you and allowing you to step back down onto your feet as he holds you close.

You press your forehead into the crook of his neck as the two of you pull apart and you smile.

“You know the only reason he hasn’t killed me yet for the things I say is because we’re dating, right?”  You say wryly.  “On some level, while it may not seem like it, he does respect you.”

You can practically feel Mal rolling his eyes.

“If he ever so much as looks at you wrong, you let me know and I will throw him out the airlock,” Mal murmurs into your hair, his hands rubbing gentle circles into your back.

“If he ever so much as looks at me wrong, I’ll throw him out myself,” you say with a snicker.

You can hear the smile in Mal’s voice.

“That’s my girl.”

El miedo al rechazo también está siempre en mí. He sido rechazado en tantas ocasiones en lo que va de mi vida, tanto en amor como en otras circunstancias y es muy difícil de superar para mí, pues si quiero algo con muchas fuerzas y me impiden tenerlo, es difícil quitarme eso de la mente o del corazón y es ahí donde uno sufre y siente un hoyo grande en el pecho.
—  Pensandolo bien, pensé mal-José Madero