![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
dorkfest
This here is my fanfic for imeantosay ficathon, Kaylee Simon.
Curling Ribbon
Simon sat at the table in the dining area, trying to wrap the box before him. He’d managed to get the light blue paper around the little box, but it was the pink ribbon now that was giving him trouble. After several minutes of confusion, he’d managed to get the ribbon wrapped around the box the way all the pictures showed and, without someone to lend a finger, it had taken some doing for him to get the ribbon tied. But now he sat with the scissors, trying to figure out how to curl the long strands of pink hanging down from the box. Every time he drew his scissors down the ribbon, he just seemed to make it straighter instead of curlier.
“What’cha up to, doc?” asked Mal as he walked into the dining area. He stopped and stood by the table for a moment, looking down at the box and the long straight ribbons and a little smile crept onto his face.
“I was just . . .trying to wrap this present,” he answered, knowing the captain was going to give him a hard time.
“It give you some trouble there, doctor?” Mal asked, his smile getting wider and cockier. He had assessed the situation very quickly, noting the scissors lying beside long limp ribbons, but he waited for Simon to tell him what he was having trouble with. It was funnier that way.
“I, uh, I can’t seem to, um.” He took a breath. “I can’t curl this ribbon.”
Mal reached over the table, taking the box in his hands and examining it for a minute, very straight ribbons hanging over his fingers, then picked up the scissors. In two quick movements, he pulled the metal blade of the scissors along the ribbons against his thumb, leaving them curled in neat little ringlets, then set the box back down in front of the stunned doctor.
“That weren’t so hard, doc,” Mal said, moving past the younger man toward the kitchen to get some tea. “Top three per cent of the Medicad can’t figure out how to curl a little bit a’ pink ribbon.”
Simon sat, slightly surprised for a moment, but did not speak. He knew better, because no matter what he would say, Mal would come up with a way to make fun of it. He waited as Mal made his tea, chuckling intermittently as he looked at the doctor, and then left the room to check back in on Wash. Then, Simon picked up the box, fluffing the ribbon gently, a little afraid that he might straighten the curls out of the ribbon just by looking at them, then walked, very slowly, almost with trepidation, down to the engine room.
He could hear the soft humming of the engine running smoothly, but he heard no sounds of work, no wrenches or wire cutters. Stepping into the warm, rusty room, he did not see Kaylee’s legs sticking out from under the engine. Neither was she climbing on a ladder to reach some circuitry high up on the bulkhead. Glancing to his left, he finally found her, curled up in her little rainbow hammock, breathing softly, her eyes closed.
She must have worked all night, Simon thought, stepping quietly towards her. She must have been to tired to go back to her bunk, so she just fell asleep here. Her face and arms were smudged with engine grease, and her hair lay all disheveled around her face. In her hand she clutched a small wrench, which, like even her bare feet, had spots of black grease dotting it. He smiled; he couldn’t help it. She just looked so beautiful there, so natural, sleeping so soundly inside the hum of her engines.
He didn’t want to wake her, he knew she must have worked very hard the night before, so he set the little box down on her tool box where he knew she would find it, and turned to leave. But as he turned, he caught sight of her again, so peaceful, so in her element, he stopped. He wanted to memorize the way she looked now, perfect in her engine grease, to keep this picture in his mind forever. Almost of its own volition, Simon’s h and reached out and touched Kaylee’s soft hair, feeling it under his fingers as she slept. But as he lingered for a moment, her eyes flickered open and she looked up at him.
“Simon?” she said uncertainly, blinking her eyes to make sure he wasn’t a dream, a smile beginning to curl on her face.
“Oh, Kaylee, I’m -” He drew his hand away quickly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, its shiny,” she answered groggily. “I should be up anyway ta check on the grav boot.” She pulled herself up into a sitting position, the top of her jumpsuit falling down about her waist. “Was there somethin’ ya wanted?”
“Huh?” he said, momentarily confused.
She smiled. “Didja come in here by accident, or didja want to talk to me?”
“Oh, yeah. Well. I . . . I just.” He turned and picked up the box from where he had set it and held it out to her. “I just wanted to give you this.”
Her face lit up as she saw the blue wrapping and pink ribbon, holding the box very gently in her hands, careful not to get grease on the paper.
“But I don’t have nothin’ to give you,” she protested, trying only half-heartedly to hand the pretty box back to him.
“No, take it, I want you to have it.” He settled himself down on the floor as she began to examine the box more closely, turning it over in her hands and studying it. “Well, are you going to open it?” he asked, smiling nervously. The suspense was killing him, because even though he knew what was inside the box, he didn’t know yet whether she’d like it or not.
She smiled at him again, lighting up the room with only the force of her happiness, before she began carefully pulling the paper and ribbon off , leaving them both still whole, and revealing the hinged burgundy box beneath. Now her attention was all on the box as she slowly pulled it open. Her smile grew even wider and her eyes sparkled as she found the anklet he had bought in a shop on Beaumonde. Little red stones shaped like strawberries hung down from the silver chain with little green leaf shaped accents.
She practically leapt from her seat in the hammock and threw her arms around him.
“Thank you, Simon! It’s beautiful!” she cried.
“I just saw it and I thought of you,” he said, tentatively laying his palms on the small of her back. The truth was that he had gone out looking for something to give her, and the anklet was what he finally settled on. He had wanted to get her a necklace with a diamond pendant, but that had been somewhat outside his price range.
Kaylee gave Simon a quick peck on the cheek before drawing back and unlatching the clasp on the anklet to put it on. After a moment, she stretched out her left leg, pants rolled up to admire the sparkle of the silver and the little stones in the soft light of the engine room./
“Oh, Simon, its so pretty, thank you!” she said again, smiling broadly. “What is the occasion?”
He smiled somewhat sheepishly. “I just wanted to give you something to, I don’t know, make you happy. I know you’ve been working really hard lately and . . .”
“That is so thoughtful, Simon,” she said after he had trailed off.
“There is one other thing in that box,” he said reaching into the hammock to hand her the box she had set aside moments ago. In the center of it was a very small wooden crate nestled in the cotton that had protected the anklet. She pulled it out and slowly slid of the top, her smile getting impossibly wider.
“Oh my god, Simon, where did you find it!” she exclaime, pulling a very ripe, bright red strawberry out by the green stem.
“Eat it,” he prompted, not wanted to go into the amount of shops and vendors he had to see to get his hands on this one strawberry.
“I ain’t had breakfast yet,” she said, sniffing the berry daintily.
“A strawberry is a fine appetizer, then.” She nodded and smiled at him again before turning all her attention to the little fruit in her fingers. He watched as she smelled it again, lingering over it longer this time. Then she pulled back and examined it, taking in the deep red of the shiny skin and the little flecks of seeds along the surface, the perfect shape of it, and finally the neat little green leaves onto which she held. Finally she put it in her mouth, feeling the texture of it with her lips and tongue, and bit it, practically gasping at the sharp sweetness, her eyes rolling back as she smiled around the berry.
Simon smiled to himself, thinking that seeing this was worth all the trouble he had gone to to get the berry and all the teasing he would get from the rest of the crew for being unable to curl ribbon.
Curling Ribbon
Simon sat at the table in the dining area, trying to wrap the box before him. He’d managed to get the light blue paper around the little box, but it was the pink ribbon now that was giving him trouble. After several minutes of confusion, he’d managed to get the ribbon wrapped around the box the way all the pictures showed and, without someone to lend a finger, it had taken some doing for him to get the ribbon tied. But now he sat with the scissors, trying to figure out how to curl the long strands of pink hanging down from the box. Every time he drew his scissors down the ribbon, he just seemed to make it straighter instead of curlier.
“What’cha up to, doc?” asked Mal as he walked into the dining area. He stopped and stood by the table for a moment, looking down at the box and the long straight ribbons and a little smile crept onto his face.
“I was just . . .trying to wrap this present,” he answered, knowing the captain was going to give him a hard time.
“It give you some trouble there, doctor?” Mal asked, his smile getting wider and cockier. He had assessed the situation very quickly, noting the scissors lying beside long limp ribbons, but he waited for Simon to tell him what he was having trouble with. It was funnier that way.
“I, uh, I can’t seem to, um.” He took a breath. “I can’t curl this ribbon.”
Mal reached over the table, taking the box in his hands and examining it for a minute, very straight ribbons hanging over his fingers, then picked up the scissors. In two quick movements, he pulled the metal blade of the scissors along the ribbons against his thumb, leaving them curled in neat little ringlets, then set the box back down in front of the stunned doctor.
“That weren’t so hard, doc,” Mal said, moving past the younger man toward the kitchen to get some tea. “Top three per cent of the Medicad can’t figure out how to curl a little bit a’ pink ribbon.”
Simon sat, slightly surprised for a moment, but did not speak. He knew better, because no matter what he would say, Mal would come up with a way to make fun of it. He waited as Mal made his tea, chuckling intermittently as he looked at the doctor, and then left the room to check back in on Wash. Then, Simon picked up the box, fluffing the ribbon gently, a little afraid that he might straighten the curls out of the ribbon just by looking at them, then walked, very slowly, almost with trepidation, down to the engine room.
He could hear the soft humming of the engine running smoothly, but he heard no sounds of work, no wrenches or wire cutters. Stepping into the warm, rusty room, he did not see Kaylee’s legs sticking out from under the engine. Neither was she climbing on a ladder to reach some circuitry high up on the bulkhead. Glancing to his left, he finally found her, curled up in her little rainbow hammock, breathing softly, her eyes closed.
She must have worked all night, Simon thought, stepping quietly towards her. She must have been to tired to go back to her bunk, so she just fell asleep here. Her face and arms were smudged with engine grease, and her hair lay all disheveled around her face. In her hand she clutched a small wrench, which, like even her bare feet, had spots of black grease dotting it. He smiled; he couldn’t help it. She just looked so beautiful there, so natural, sleeping so soundly inside the hum of her engines.
He didn’t want to wake her, he knew she must have worked very hard the night before, so he set the little box down on her tool box where he knew she would find it, and turned to leave. But as he turned, he caught sight of her again, so peaceful, so in her element, he stopped. He wanted to memorize the way she looked now, perfect in her engine grease, to keep this picture in his mind forever. Almost of its own volition, Simon’s h and reached out and touched Kaylee’s soft hair, feeling it under his fingers as she slept. But as he lingered for a moment, her eyes flickered open and she looked up at him.
“Simon?” she said uncertainly, blinking her eyes to make sure he wasn’t a dream, a smile beginning to curl on her face.
“Oh, Kaylee, I’m -” He drew his hand away quickly. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, its shiny,” she answered groggily. “I should be up anyway ta check on the grav boot.” She pulled herself up into a sitting position, the top of her jumpsuit falling down about her waist. “Was there somethin’ ya wanted?”
“Huh?” he said, momentarily confused.
She smiled. “Didja come in here by accident, or didja want to talk to me?”
“Oh, yeah. Well. I . . . I just.” He turned and picked up the box from where he had set it and held it out to her. “I just wanted to give you this.”
Her face lit up as she saw the blue wrapping and pink ribbon, holding the box very gently in her hands, careful not to get grease on the paper.
“But I don’t have nothin’ to give you,” she protested, trying only half-heartedly to hand the pretty box back to him.
“No, take it, I want you to have it.” He settled himself down on the floor as she began to examine the box more closely, turning it over in her hands and studying it. “Well, are you going to open it?” he asked, smiling nervously. The suspense was killing him, because even though he knew what was inside the box, he didn’t know yet whether she’d like it or not.
She smiled at him again, lighting up the room with only the force of her happiness, before she began carefully pulling the paper and ribbon off , leaving them both still whole, and revealing the hinged burgundy box beneath. Now her attention was all on the box as she slowly pulled it open. Her smile grew even wider and her eyes sparkled as she found the anklet he had bought in a shop on Beaumonde. Little red stones shaped like strawberries hung down from the silver chain with little green leaf shaped accents.
She practically leapt from her seat in the hammock and threw her arms around him.
“Thank you, Simon! It’s beautiful!” she cried.
“I just saw it and I thought of you,” he said, tentatively laying his palms on the small of her back. The truth was that he had gone out looking for something to give her, and the anklet was what he finally settled on. He had wanted to get her a necklace with a diamond pendant, but that had been somewhat outside his price range.
Kaylee gave Simon a quick peck on the cheek before drawing back and unlatching the clasp on the anklet to put it on. After a moment, she stretched out her left leg, pants rolled up to admire the sparkle of the silver and the little stones in the soft light of the engine room./
“Oh, Simon, its so pretty, thank you!” she said again, smiling broadly. “What is the occasion?”
He smiled somewhat sheepishly. “I just wanted to give you something to, I don’t know, make you happy. I know you’ve been working really hard lately and . . .”
“That is so thoughtful, Simon,” she said after he had trailed off.
“There is one other thing in that box,” he said reaching into the hammock to hand her the box she had set aside moments ago. In the center of it was a very small wooden crate nestled in the cotton that had protected the anklet. She pulled it out and slowly slid of the top, her smile getting impossibly wider.
“Oh my god, Simon, where did you find it!” she exclaime, pulling a very ripe, bright red strawberry out by the green stem.
“Eat it,” he prompted, not wanted to go into the amount of shops and vendors he had to see to get his hands on this one strawberry.
“I ain’t had breakfast yet,” she said, sniffing the berry daintily.
“A strawberry is a fine appetizer, then.” She nodded and smiled at him again before turning all her attention to the little fruit in her fingers. He watched as she smelled it again, lingering over it longer this time. Then she pulled back and examined it, taking in the deep red of the shiny skin and the little flecks of seeds along the surface, the perfect shape of it, and finally the neat little green leaves onto which she held. Finally she put it in her mouth, feeling the texture of it with her lips and tongue, and bit it, practically gasping at the sharp sweetness, her eyes rolling back as she smiled around the berry.
Simon smiled to himself, thinking that seeing this was worth all the trouble he had gone to to get the berry and all the teasing he would get from the rest of the crew for being unable to curl ribbon.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
:)
no subject
Yeah, well, my middle name is "Leigh", right?
K-Leigh?
How cool is that?
Well maybe not so cool but I though it was pretty damn neat-o.
BTW nice fic. Very much with the floof but less with the annoyingness that is usually associated with the floofderhood. Were ya somehow inspired by the holidays? :P
no subject
no subject
(Anonymous) 2005-12-23 06:24 am (UTC)(link)But Kaylee and strawberries is always a plus in my book!
-Sean