stungunbilly: (whither)
stungunbilly ([personal profile] stungunbilly) wrote2006-04-29 11:34 pm
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out of the blue and into the black

Okay, so here’s the thing:

I read fan fiction for many different reasons at various times. When I’m in the mood for it, I read for a sexual relationship taking place where I also see the deepest, strongest kinds of love in canon. Where the love is there and pure and true, and there are grounds for attraction, and the canon does not give me a sexual relationship, I like to imagine one, because wow. That might just be the best thing ever.

So when I watch Firefly, and I’m in that mood, I forget that I’m a slash fan. I forget how pretty Kaylee and River are together, and the amusing banter between Mal and Inara, and the way Simon looks in his pants or out of them, and I want to read Kaylee/Mal. Because Mal loves Kaylee, he really does. And Kaylee loves Mal. It’s so easy to see them, if they survived to get old, loving each other with grey hair and all. The most wonderful things in Mal’s life are his ship and his crew, and Kaylee? Is both. She makes Serenity move, she keeps it moving, and she’s like… the nymph of the ship.

Also, I keep seeing them having a ranch together somewhere, over the rainbow.

Kaylee watched the cattle coming home for evening, a red cloud of dust rising into the yellow of the lowering sun. They were still half a mile away down the valley, and the sounds of men shouting and the dogs barking were still faint, though the thunder of hooves could be felt in the warm clay beneath her feet. She wiped her hands on the oily rag in her pocket, and thought about getting dinner started before Mal and the hands had washed up to help.

Instead, she swung on the gate for a few precious minutes, enjoying the sweet sensation of flying and the quiet hinges that meant her fixing job was done right. The evening breeze felt fine in her hair, lifting the strands that hung loose from her braid, drying the sweat on her face. Likely she ought to consider having a bath soon, or Mal would be making remarks about the smudges on her face and the way his mother used to smell like lilac and lemon all the time. But for the moment she could just ride on her own gate, and pretend that she was still a girl about to find adventure in the Black.


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