Chapter Text
Explosions sound in the distance. Gunfire follows in rapid succession, lighting up the night sky. She peeks out from cover, only to have bullets penetrate the already weakened corner wall. She can feel the sweat trickling under her coat, sticking uncomfortably against her skin. She doesn't realize that she's holding her breath until she hears loud footsteps stomping towards their direction. They're erratic and making some serious headway. She silently counts to three and pops out to stare at the figure at the end of her barrel, trigger at the ready. She is slightly startled by a loud "Woohooo!" echoing through the makeshift-held position. She rolls her eyes as enemy fire trails after the lunatic.
He climbs in and sits beside her, pressing his back against the wall that is barely covering her.
"Could you not do that, Sarge?"
"You hafta find the shiny in everything. Only thing t' keep ya sane." He peeks from cover to release a pop, pop.
He grins at her with that crooked, farmboy smile. The type of smile that radiates sunshine in this otherwise darkened ‘verse. The one that envelopes you in its warmth and keeps you fighting when you ought to fall down. As he reloads his gun, she climbs into his lap and straddles him. He looks at her, bewildered. She leans in and presses her lips against his. As she pulls away, she’s already flushed. She maintains eye contact, unable to tear her eyes away from the blue. Without looking, she reaches to release him from his belt. His hands remain occupied: rifle in one hand, knife in the other. She can hear his breath hitch as she grasps him in her hand. He leans in to press his forehead against hers.
“We can’t,” he rasps. His head snaps to the sound of gunfire.
“Then, tell me to stop,” her thumb brushes against his bottom lip, slightly parting them. She bites her lip as she sees the moistened part of his mouth. She stares back at him, disregarding the chaos around them.
He doesn’t even know when she pulled down her pants, but all the irrelevant details fade away as she pushes down on him. She’s so gorram tight; he’s about to lose it. Not once does she break her stare. She grinds against him in slow thrusts, trying to deepen him further in her heat. She wraps her hands at the base of his neck, entwining her fingers in his hair. He grabs one hip, rifle still in the other. He snaps his hips to match her grinds; each thrust elicits a shudder from her. He’d be okay with dying right here. With her in his arms. His breathing becomes weighted, as he really takes her in. She’s covered in mud, gun residue, and whatever else, but he still sees a goddess. Her smile can stop a believin’ man in his tracks. He captures her mouth as she rides out her orgasm. They both hear crackling noises – footsteps crushing gravel under their shoes. Immediately, they snap their rifles and fire a shot. An enemy behind him falls, as does the one behind her.
“I got your back, sir.” She giggles.
“And I got yours, darlin’,” he murmurs as he kisses her forehead.
Mortar fire breaks them out of their reverie.
**********
He gasps as if he just re-surfaced from being held underwater. He clutches his chest while his brain tries to re-orient his surroundings. As he gathers his bearings, he goes to rub his eyes when he realizes that it’s wet. Mal straightens himself in the pilot seat and massages the sides of his temple with his index and middle fingers. It’s been so long since…I dreamt about her. Dreamin’ about dead folk is nothing new to him, it comes with the territory. But hers was something he pushed to the darkest depths of his mind, never to re-visit. He failed her, just as he failed everyone else at Serenity Valley.
Mal stares out at the black, soothed by the stirrings and whirring sounds of Serenity. Night time is a double-sided coin: on the one hand, he feels the calmest. Free and unrestrained. Yet on the other, he is left with his demons. Unlike Jayne, he has no vices. Unless bickering and keeping loved ones at arm’s length counts. He genuinely cares for his crew, but he can’t help dread that he’s leading them to eventual doom or worse, death. He was in charge of so many Independents, most of them were still kids and yet, he only managed to “save” a handful. He promised himself when he bought Serenity and began searching for a crew with Zoe, that he would do better. That he would do right by the men and women who died in Serenity Valley.
~
“Hey, Sarge.”
“Hngh,” he grunts with his mouth full of whatever MRE was on the menu that night.
“Promise me,” she stares up at the night sky, the billions of stars twinkling.
“Promise me that whatever happens at the end of this war, that you’ll never change. That you won’t become jaded. Even if any one of us dies, that you’ll never blame yourself. You’re making do with what you got, and we all know that.”
Mal remains silent as she prattles off. “Hm? You say somethin’?”
“Ta ma de, hundan!” She starts whacking him hard on his arm repeatedly until he starts feeling a stinging heat.
“Aiya! I was just kiddin’. I was listenin’. I WAS LISTENIN’.” She smiles in contentment.
~
Mal is drawn out of his daydream as he hears the soft creak of the co-pilot seat swiveling. River is watching him intently. He wonders if she saw what he just did. Annoyance begins to seep into his expression, but his face softens instead.
“Can’t sleep, little one?”
She shakes her head. “Dreams can be loud. No matter how much we don’t want them to be.”
“You’re tellin’ me, darlin’.” He runs his hand through his hair. He watches as River bites her nails, nervously. She seems to be debating on something. He knows she wants to ask. She’s just an inquisitive teenager.
“Whatever’s on your mind, you might as well ask. ‘Fore your fingers get bitten off.”
She watches him carefully before whispering, “Did you love her?”
He’s quiet for some time. River fidgets uneasily, wondering if she asked the wrong thing. Mal is lost in thought as memories of her flood his mind.
“Somethin’ like that, little one.” Even if I never got to say it back.
“I wish I coulda met her.”
“Me too, darlin’. Me too.”