[identity profile] mgsmurf.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] firefly_fanfic
Fic: Christmas Fixings
Author: smurf
Summary: Some things are never properly fixed.
Rating: PG
Characters: Mal, River, and a plastic Prancer
Pairing: Mal/River (het)
Warning: none
Spoilers/Timeline: none, set pre-BDM
Words: 700
Archive: Please don't
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to test drive.
Author's Note: This was written last year, prior to the movie and all, but is seasonally appropriate and was never posted here.


It was crooked, River was sure of it. Prancer's back leg bent ten degrees backward than normal range of joints would have allowed. She leaned closer to the sledge with Saint Nicholas and nine tiny reindeer. Tacky and plastic and very Kaylee, it had sent a smile to River's face when the other girl had taken the time to line it up just right on the railing.

"Kinda pretty, ain't it?" Mal spoke. She'd heard his boots echo on the metal grating, knew he approached.

"Prancer's broke."

"Is he now?" Mal paused, bent down beside her to look at the sled.

He was close, close enough to smell his aftershave, lye soap, dust and gunpowder. River reasoned it had a calming effect.

"Which one's Prancer?" She didn't need to look at him to know his face was scrunched up in thought.

River sighed. "Second row from Saint Nick, nearest us."

"Okay." Mal took a step sideways, leaned closer to her, eyes on Prancer. Turning to her, he asked, "How do you know its Prancer?"

She glared at him. "From the poem." He blankly stared back. "'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Saint Nick 'called them by name'. And the order must move away from him, starting at his right. It's of European origin, so it would follow its rules of writing, although it makes little sense to extend the order of writing symbols to other objects. But...."

River paused, noticing the substantial smile on Mal's face. On the others she'd think the look amusement at her expense.

He nodded. "Makes right sense."

Glad, she smiled back. "Prancer's still broke."

"Liken there's somethin' we can do 'bout that." His strong hands eased Prancer from his plastic harness. Straightening up, he drew Prancer closer, ran his hands and eyes over him. River missed Mal's closeness, warmth. She stood up, and placing one hand on his broad shoulder, reached on tiptoe to hold her face near Prancer, scent of Mal surrounding her.

His brow knotted, blue eyes looking in earnest at Prancer to understand her.

"It's his right back leg. Bent all wrong. Knees don't work like that," she said in explanation.

"On plastic reindeer least."

She wondered what he'd do if she smacked him to knock out his sarcastic humor, and concluded it better to wait until Prancer had been mended.

"But... I reckon that's fixable." He put Prancer's leg between his thumb and forefinger and ever so slightly bent it. His brows knotted as he repeated the process. Life he never wanted to take seriously. Did once; got hurt. But plastic reindeers he figured were safe.

"There you go." Mal handed Prancer back to her. "Good as new."

River frowned and shook her head. "No it's not." Mal bent down to inspect his handiwork. Whirling away from him, she placed the reindeer back in its place. "Never is."

Her words hung in the night air before Mal stepped up beside her, warmth close, a little too close. "Nah, guess not," he said.

Leaning back her head, River looked up at him. He liked his face expressive so it could hide his real emotions, but the solid set of his jaw didn't cover the flicker of pain from her. Mal was just crazy enough himself to understand her. She liked that. She spun around, griped the back of his head, and leaned up to kiss his lips. The moment lingered a second longer than it should have and warmed them both just a little too much before they stepped apart.

"Mistletoe's in the mess," she said, although it was as plastic as Prancer.

Mal smirked. "Well then... imagine that happened down there."

Evil indeed, she thought as a smile bubbled onto her face. "Where else would it have?" She could feel energy drifting between them, the whisper of something he didn't want to voice.

Then with his smile it dissipated with a sizzling crack, and he stepped further away. "Like the way you think, little one." Without a look back he walked away humming a Christmas tune.

River looked down at Prancer. "No Christmas miracle for you, just Serenity's."
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