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F: Survival
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: When Mal's around, Tracey feels safer. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
over_look.
He felt Mal from the very first moment he saw him. There's something there that moves him, soothes him, gets him out on the battlefield time and time again -- even if, sometimes, he pauses at inappropriate moments to eat beans. There's something about Mal that demands loyalty -- demands love -- and Tracey is quite happy to love a man like Mal.
Mal's like the father he never really had, being as his own father had seven other kids to think of too and a life to be living of his own along with all the work he had to do. Tracey can't imagine his own father coming and tucking him in at night, but that's near as damn it what Mal does -- squatting down by his bedroll to offer him some words of encouragement about this day and the next and the upcoming assault. He's not like the other, higher, officers. He's closer, and more intense, and less comprehensible somehow.
"You think we'll survive?" he asks, tactlessly, one of these times. Mal moves closer to him, a frown taking over his face, but his presence is still as comforting as always. Tracey snuggles down in his nest of blankets as Mal shrugs.
"I don't know, kid. I reckon we will." Mal pauses, and then grins a little, "Or I will, at least. If you sit down to eat beans again, I figure you might not."
"You an' Zoe."
"Yeah. Me an' Zoe. And you will, too, if y'do what your told and stick close to us."
Very softly, Tracey dares to say what he thinks -- keeping his eyes on Mal's for a moment to see his reaction. "There's nowhere else I'd want to be in the thick of a battle, sarge."
"Of course not," Mal says, without a flicker of sentimentality, though there's a hint of gratefulness in his eyes. "We're too soft and we'll keep on saving your ass."
Pairing: None
Warnings: None
Rating: PG
Summary: When Mal's around, Tracey feels safer. For
over_look.He felt Mal from the very first moment he saw him. There's something there that moves him, soothes him, gets him out on the battlefield time and time again -- even if, sometimes, he pauses at inappropriate moments to eat beans. There's something about Mal that demands loyalty -- demands love -- and Tracey is quite happy to love a man like Mal.
Mal's like the father he never really had, being as his own father had seven other kids to think of too and a life to be living of his own along with all the work he had to do. Tracey can't imagine his own father coming and tucking him in at night, but that's near as damn it what Mal does -- squatting down by his bedroll to offer him some words of encouragement about this day and the next and the upcoming assault. He's not like the other, higher, officers. He's closer, and more intense, and less comprehensible somehow.
"You think we'll survive?" he asks, tactlessly, one of these times. Mal moves closer to him, a frown taking over his face, but his presence is still as comforting as always. Tracey snuggles down in his nest of blankets as Mal shrugs.
"I don't know, kid. I reckon we will." Mal pauses, and then grins a little, "Or I will, at least. If you sit down to eat beans again, I figure you might not."
"You an' Zoe."
"Yeah. Me an' Zoe. And you will, too, if y'do what your told and stick close to us."
Very softly, Tracey dares to say what he thinks -- keeping his eyes on Mal's for a moment to see his reaction. "There's nowhere else I'd want to be in the thick of a battle, sarge."
"Of course not," Mal says, without a flicker of sentimentality, though there's a hint of gratefulness in his eyes. "We're too soft and we'll keep on saving your ass."