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F: Delight
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing: Mal/River
Warnings: Sap
Rating: G
Summary: River delights in everything. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
candywrapper, because she wants it.
River's delight in everything never fails to make him smile as she glides through the market. A colourful world, bright and light and full of things for her to touch, taste, smell, sense in every way she can and catalogue away in that mind of hers. Mal doesn't understand her, but he's content to watch her, watch her dreamy smile and watch her finding peace in the names she whispers to herself like spells: names of fruit and flowers and tiny precious stones.
She takes his hand, then, and drags him off -- ignoring his protest that no, no, he has things to be doing, people to see... Come, she says, and he goes, and she tells him names and places and makers and stories, a jumble of all the fascinating things that pass through her head.
"From Osiris," she says, her fingers sliding over a bracelet, all bright stones and bright colours and expense. Her fingers linger, her eyes full of remembering, and Mal's eyes flicker over the price tag.
She turns back a few steps later to find him standing there with a half bashful look on his face. She has to smile, then, the smile lighting her features as it always does, and she holds out her arm for him to fasten the bracelet around her thin wrist.
"You're a nice man," she says, as if she doesn't spend her nights tangled around him in bed and only just met him, a stranger, in a busy market.
"You're a strange girl," he responds, as if she does not mean worlds to him.
Pairing: Mal/River
Warnings: Sap
Rating: G
Summary: River delights in everything. For
candywrapper, because she wants it.River's delight in everything never fails to make him smile as she glides through the market. A colourful world, bright and light and full of things for her to touch, taste, smell, sense in every way she can and catalogue away in that mind of hers. Mal doesn't understand her, but he's content to watch her, watch her dreamy smile and watch her finding peace in the names she whispers to herself like spells: names of fruit and flowers and tiny precious stones.
She takes his hand, then, and drags him off -- ignoring his protest that no, no, he has things to be doing, people to see... Come, she says, and he goes, and she tells him names and places and makers and stories, a jumble of all the fascinating things that pass through her head.
"From Osiris," she says, her fingers sliding over a bracelet, all bright stones and bright colours and expense. Her fingers linger, her eyes full of remembering, and Mal's eyes flicker over the price tag.
She turns back a few steps later to find him standing there with a half bashful look on his face. She has to smile, then, the smile lighting her features as it always does, and she holds out her arm for him to fasten the bracelet around her thin wrist.
"You're a nice man," she says, as if she doesn't spend her nights tangled around him in bed and only just met him, a stranger, in a busy market.
"You're a strange girl," he responds, as if she does not mean worlds to him.
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