Fic: firefly
Jan. 7th, 2003 09:10 pmShe knows what they think, what they wonder. Knows that Inara thinks maybe she should offer to take care of River sometimes, because Companions know that even the mentally disturbed need sexual release, and it's just not healthy for Simon to be so close to River all the time. Inara thinks that Simon is too-much all about River, and thinks that River is capable of using him. Inara sees little bits of herself in Simon, but she doesn't let herself think about that, just has the thoughts buzz-buzzing under the surface.
And River lets Inara know that would be acceptable, because it would be rude to ignore the invitation Inara is thinking of offering. An insult to Inara's professional ability, to not want her when she makes the effort. A rejection of Inara, to dismiss her charms, when Inara will occasionally think complimentary things about River's. River likes herself in inara's thoughts, which are pretty and warm, healthy in their secretlooks at River's legs. River lays her head in Inara's lap and lets her brush her hair, and after Inara thinks guiltythoughts about River, that weren't guilty before and the more River lets Inara pet her head, dress her, care for her, the more Inara thinks these guiltythoughts until she thinks of Riverbusiness less and less.
"Simon," River's voice says and River blinks, because she can't hear her own thoughts and didn't know she was thinking of Simon until she said his name.
"What about Simon?" Inara says, and her voice is low and calm even when her thoughts are zipping around her head, quick for people and slow for River, because River's mind is faster and there's more of it, thoughts travelling in three-D cobwebs of neural connections and no-one thinks like that here, except Simon.
"Simon," River says again, because that's the only word that covers all her thoughts. Inara wants sub-words, to divide the concept into manageable chunks, but River doesn't have any words small enough. She just means Simon, all of him, and feels melancholy that he isn't here and that Inara doesn't know him, because it must be terribly sad not to. Inara's hand is soft, stroking her hair back almost like Simon does, but Inara has long nails that dig in pleasantly hard on Rivers scalp, but Simons nails are cut practically short.
"Simon is..." River starts to say. She wants to explain Simon to Inara, to share him with her. Maybe she shouldn't, because it would be cruel to show Inara what she doesn't know she's missing. "Mal," she offers hopefully, because he's not Simon, but Simon is Riverthoughts, and Inara needs an Inarathoughts that are her own. And River blinks, because Inara is thinking new thoughts now, that are pretty and interesting, and make River giggle. "Simon," she says again, trying to concentrate against the background of distracting images.
"Shh, it's a secret. No-one can ever know," River whispers, one finger across her lip and before Inara can ask what that means,River raises up and kisses Inara on her mouth, pretty and soft and hers is chapped in Inara's mind and both of them are still thinking of Simon, though in very different ways.
"I'm a dummy," River says, contentedly as she settles back down in Inara's lap. After a moment, Inara starts to comb through her hair again.
And River lets Inara know that would be acceptable, because it would be rude to ignore the invitation Inara is thinking of offering. An insult to Inara's professional ability, to not want her when she makes the effort. A rejection of Inara, to dismiss her charms, when Inara will occasionally think complimentary things about River's. River likes herself in inara's thoughts, which are pretty and warm, healthy in their secretlooks at River's legs. River lays her head in Inara's lap and lets her brush her hair, and after Inara thinks guiltythoughts about River, that weren't guilty before and the more River lets Inara pet her head, dress her, care for her, the more Inara thinks these guiltythoughts until she thinks of Riverbusiness less and less.
"Simon," River's voice says and River blinks, because she can't hear her own thoughts and didn't know she was thinking of Simon until she said his name.
"What about Simon?" Inara says, and her voice is low and calm even when her thoughts are zipping around her head, quick for people and slow for River, because River's mind is faster and there's more of it, thoughts travelling in three-D cobwebs of neural connections and no-one thinks like that here, except Simon.
"Simon," River says again, because that's the only word that covers all her thoughts. Inara wants sub-words, to divide the concept into manageable chunks, but River doesn't have any words small enough. She just means Simon, all of him, and feels melancholy that he isn't here and that Inara doesn't know him, because it must be terribly sad not to. Inara's hand is soft, stroking her hair back almost like Simon does, but Inara has long nails that dig in pleasantly hard on Rivers scalp, but Simons nails are cut practically short.
"Simon is..." River starts to say. She wants to explain Simon to Inara, to share him with her. Maybe she shouldn't, because it would be cruel to show Inara what she doesn't know she's missing. "Mal," she offers hopefully, because he's not Simon, but Simon is Riverthoughts, and Inara needs an Inarathoughts that are her own. And River blinks, because Inara is thinking new thoughts now, that are pretty and interesting, and make River giggle. "Simon," she says again, trying to concentrate against the background of distracting images.
"Shh, it's a secret. No-one can ever know," River whispers, one finger across her lip and before Inara can ask what that means,River raises up and kisses Inara on her mouth, pretty and soft and hers is chapped in Inara's mind and both of them are still thinking of Simon, though in very different ways.
"I'm a dummy," River says, contentedly as she settles back down in Inara's lap. After a moment, Inara starts to comb through her hair again.