Firefly fic
Nov. 11th, 2005 09:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20I'm watching Pitch Black for the zillionth time. Hopefully, it won't wake any Twin Flames bunnies, because I'm getting eaten alive by bunnies right now.
What I have:
SMALLVILLE
COTW
LLAR2
Fine/Lex as professors who bet who can seduce Clark first.
The Robin Hood bunny (with Lex as Maid Marian)
The Shakespear in Love/Stage Beauty bunny where Clark falls in love with skirt!actor Lex
POTC
Continuing the Jack/James with Gavin story
LOST
Finishing/continuing the Jack/Boone series
Firefly
The Passenger
Pitch Black
Twin Flames
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
A Chocolate Factory for Veruca (Or, How Veruca Finally got her Orgasm)
Harry Potter
My mary sue story
Supernatural
A fic where Dean learns the joys of bottoming
Plus, my original novel, which I need to keep reasearching and try to finish so I can, someday, publish it.
Do you think I have enough on my plate? Dear Lord.
Back on Serenity, not speaking to Mal once again. This was stupid; Camille could just as easily be in her own room not speaking to anyone, but, no, she was doing it here. Because this is where he'd brought her and at least there was a lock on the door here. Plus, there weren't any mind readers and Camille really wanted to be alone.
How could he do that? Think that about Garrison? Mal was wrong, so really, *really* wrong. Garrison did *not* rape her and, God, now everything was... tainted.
Not because Camille thought that Mal was right. The androgen blocker was real, the feelings she'd gone through right after were real, and her desire for Garrison had always been real.
But now, every time she thought about her first time, she was going to hear Mal's voice in her head. Because, truth was, some of what he'd said made sense. She had been young, and while she didn't know about the prettiest, she had been vulnerable. Maybe he should have just let the Companions do their job before taking her to his room. Maybe he should have let the other kids calm her down. Maybe...
Maybe he should have been prepared for the consequences of sleeping with her. And not gotten scared so far down the line.
Camille sighed and rolled onto her stomach, pulling a pillow over her head.
Garrison still loved her. She could see that, feel it, and read it in his head. Garrison as a sensitive, and, more than that, he was good at masking his thoughts. Only the most powerful were able to read him all the time, and they'd all refused to tell Camille what he thought about her.
She'd known that Mal hated Garrison for having been with her. She hadn't realized that Garrison would hate Mal for Camille's feelings for him.
There was a knock on the door. "Camille?" Inara called. "May I come in?"
She sighed and forced herself out of the bed. Crossing the room, she unlocked the door, then quickly went back. "It's open," she said, throwing herself onto it and pulling the covers over herself.
"Is it really that bad?" Inara asked, laughing softly.
"Yes," she replied, voice muffled by the comforter.
The bed dipped and Inara put her hand on Camille's back, massaging it gently. "I thought maybe I should come talk to you."
"You heard what happened"
"Well. It is a small school."
Camille laughed. "Yeah. And it's even smaller by the instant communication of telepathy."
"It does help get information around." She rubbed Camille's back a little harder. "So."
"So what?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Camille, I'm worried about you. About what Mal said happened between you and Garrison."
Camille groaned and pushed the covers off her head. "Mal's got it all wrong. Garrison didn't rape me. He didn't force me to do anything. It was a lovely, perfect first time and Mal is ruining it for me!" With hat, she pulled the covers back over her head.
There was a moment of silence. Then, Inara remarked, "Loving Mal is a lot like stabbing yourself in the heart over and over again, isn't it?"
"Wouldn't know. Don't love him."
"Right. And he doesn't love you, and you're not both making yourself miserable by pretending you're both not desperately in love with each other."
Camille pulled the covers off. "Do you not understand English? I'm not in love with Malcolm."
"Who are you trying to convince, mei mei? Me or yourself?" She smiled gently and rubbed Camille's leg.
Tears rose to Camille's eyes. Furious at herself, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her face. "I hate my life."
"Camille," Inara started, but then she stopped. The bed shifted again, and then the pillow was taken from Camille's face. "All right. I want you to tell me about your first time."
"I don't..."
"I want to know how wonderful it was," Inara interrupted with a soft smile. "I want to hear how excited you were, how nervous. How much you wanted him, how scared you were to take that step, but how perfect he made it for you. Tell me."
"Why? So you can go back to Mal and tell him everything's okay and it wasn't bad?"
"No. You said Mal's ruining this memory for you, and I can see how. So tell me what happened. You know I'm not going to judge, I'm not like him."
Camille sat up, swiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "You honestly mean to tell me that you weren't sent in by him to counsel me through this? You are trained and all."
"Mal didn't ask me to talk to you. He's too busy making sure all his weapons work. I heard about the fight and realized that you probably needed someone to talk to. As a friend."
She rolled her eyes. "There's not much to say. I mean, it was... it wasn't that different from sleeping with anyone. I was just younger and more inexperienced. Scared. I'd been here about two weeks or so. I honestly.... I can't remember how long and I never look at my files because it reminds me too much of... of being sick and confused and everything. I wasn't like River when I first got here. I was pretty incoherent and stuff."
"River was, too, when she was first brought out of stasis," Inara said.
"Yeah. I've been saying how she's more powerful than I am and everything, but that doesn't always determine how hard the transition between the Academy and here is. They had a hard time helping me get anywhere near sane because when Garrison got me out, he had to leave behind most of my unit. And even thought I didn't want to go back to the Academy, I needed my unit. I needed to know they were okay, and I kept fightin', trying to escape and just get back to my unit. Garrison said that every unit commander they got out did the same thing. He always tried to get the unit out first, but it weren't always possible." She sighed and tugged on the ends of her hair.
"Anyway, they finally got me calmed down enough to get the androgen blocker out and start me on all that. And, like Mal screamed to everyone, I was scared and uncomfortable with people touching me. I wanted Garrison, I really did, but I didn't know how to tell him that. I knew he'd slept with kids before me, but I had such a crush on him." Camille smiled, cheeks warming at the memory. "He was around me all the time those first few weeks, calming me down, sparring with me, playing games. When I get really upset, I need physical activity to calm down. I've always been like that, ever since I was a kid. So he was there, and he's so cute and sexy and his eyes... when they looked at me I felt safe and cherished."
"You fell in love with him. He was your hero."
Camille nodded. "He was. And I was a kid. But I was feeling like every kid my age had felt for years, only my body was working overtime to catch up, so it felt worse. And there he was, just perfect. But I felt stupid so I didn't tell him that I wanted him. So, I tried to sleep with the Companions, and that didn't work. I mean, we'd be sitting there, drinking tea, talking all comfortable. They always went for my hair next, cause it was long and pretty and I hadn't every done anything with it since before I was a solider. And then, they tried to kiss me and I'd tense up. Finally Garrison just came in and took me to his room."
"Did he lock you in?"
"No! There are no locks here, not even on his room." Camille rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow to hug to her chest. "Anyway. Once we were in there, it was like nothing else existed. His whole room is lined with mud from Higgins Moon, so you can't sense anyone outside, or into his room, which can be a pain It's a sanctuary, and it was just him and me. He had candles lit, and we drank coca and played chess, until I yanked the damn board away from him because he kept winning." She smiled at the memory. "He braided my hair. We read and talked about stuff. And then he kissed me and it was just perfect. Everything I'd always been waiting for. By the time we got to that point, and I was in bed with him and his hands were on me, I couldn't remember why I'd been so nervous before."
"It sounds like you weren't willing to share your body with someone you didn't truly want, at least not the first time," Inara said. "You were falling in love with Garrison. And even if it was because he'd saved you and you had a sever case of hero worship, the fact remains is he was your choice."
Camille nodded and rested her cheek on the pillow. "He was. Mal is wrong, you know. About Garrison drugging us. Maybe being experimented on would have stunted our sexual development, but not so we couldn't feel anything. Not like that. And River and Kaylee have tried having sex, but Kaylee said River ever responded. It's not just in our head. But I don't know how to prove that to Mal."
Inara took the pillow away from Camille and move closer to her. "Don't worry about proving it to Mal. Simon will take care of that part. He's doing the research right now, and he'll do the surgery tomorrow. He'll be able to convince Mal that Garrison hasn't simply been creating his own harem here." She touched Camille's cheek. "But you do need to talk to Mal about what he's doing to your precious memory. He doesn't need to hear the story. He's a jealous lover. Believe me, I know."
"Does it bother you?"
She sighed. "A little. I still love him. But it's never going to work. I'm a Companion. It's my calling, and I can't give that up for anyone. Not even someone I love. Mal won't share me, and I won't... I can't belong to anyone. I don't want to. So I know I have to let him go." Inara smiled self-deprecatingly. "When I first came back, I had the hardest time talking to Simon. I felt he'd betrayed me, even though I knew I was being stupid and unfair. But it felt personal, like he'd gone after someone who belonged to me. But, then I realized that Mal and I could never make each other happy, and that's what love is. Being with someone who makes you happy." She took Camille's hand. "You two have the possibility to make one another very happy. I can see that. You just, both, have to stop being stupid."
"I'll get right on that," Camille said wryly. Then she sighed, tugging her hair back from her face. "I don't know what happy is."
"Really?"
Camille sighed again and shook her head. "No. I mean, I guess I do. I'm mostly happy. Most of the time, really. I just... lately, nothing is going right, you know?" Her mouth crimped and tears rose to her eyes. "And what makes it worse is that I'm worried about my love life and Trinity. Trinity's dead."
"Oh, baby." Inara pulled Camille into her arms and rocked gently. Her hand smoothed down Camille's back as she cried, soft and warm and oh-so gentle.
And just not what she wanted at all. Not who she wanted.
Still, Inara was comfort and beauty and strangely like Trinity, too. Long, dark hair, and deep, fathomless eyes. A mysterious aura of maturity and protectiveness and serenity. Camille had worshiped Trinity, glowed at the fact that the other girl had ever deigned to notice her, much less count Camille as one of her best friends. And Camille had been drawn to Inara partly because of her resemblance to Trinity, whom Camille hadn't seen in over sixth long months until the night she killed herself.
"Do you want to talk about her?" Inara asked, lips brushing over Camille's temple.
Camille shook her head, digging her fingers into Inara's shoulders. "No."
"That's fine. That's fine, honey." She kissed Camille's forehead and then rested her head on top of Camille's, still massaging her back.
The door opened and Mal stuck his head in. "Camille," he said, voice faltering when he saw her in tears. He frowned, a dark shadow falling over his face. "Camille, don't ... I'm sorry."
She untangled herself from Inara. "It's not... I'm not..." She couldn't talk, couldn't stop crying.
Inara stood up and faced Mal. "She's mourning the death of her friend, Mal."
"Ah." Mal nodded and crossed the room to the bed. As he passed Inara, she took his hand, and he stopped, looking at her.
Something passed between them, but Camille didn't pry into their minds or thoughts. It wasn't her place, and she wouldn't want Inara reading into her and Mal.
Finally, Inara smiled, squeezed his hand, and let it drop. With one final glance at Camille, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"Camille," Mal said tentatively, sinking onto the bed next to her. He put his hand on her back, tense, like he expected her to throw him off. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Can you raise the dead?" she asked, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve.
"Well. No."
Her lower lip trembled. "Then could you just stay with me?" Her voice cracked as she asked, more tears flooding down her face.
Mal reached over and pulled her into his lap, moving so his back was resting against the wall. "Yes, darlin'. I'll stay."
* * *
By the time Simon got back to his room, it was nearly midnight. His head hurt, his eyes ached, and his back was killing him. He hadn't eaten since lunch and had completely forgotten about dinner in his quest to study up for surgery tomorrow and to see if there was even the slightest possibility that Mal had been right.
He didn't appear to be. Simon wasn't a computer hacker by any means, but he'd seen tampered files before and the ones he'd studied didn't seem tampered with at all. Everything, even the files that had been stolen from the Alliance, showed that every kid here had an absence of hormones that promoted sexual activity. In fact, they'd been forced through puberty by a mixture of carefully selected hormones that developed their bodies while numbing their genitals.
It was sick. Disgusting. All these children, denied the chance to experience life just because the Alliance wanted to create super warriors.
With a growl, Simon threw the datapads he'd brought with him from the labs onto his desk.
"Something wrong?"
Simon turned, unsurprised to see Prophet sitting in his room. He was surprised to see that Prophet had pulled a chair to dresser and was using the mirror hanging over it to help him carefully apply mascara to his already insanely long lashes.
"I'm just cranky. And qi fen at the Alliance for what they did to you all." He sighed and scrubbed his eyes wearily. "As if I wasn't angry enough before."
Prophet nodded, placing the mascara on the dresser and picking up a small container. As he unscrewed the cap, he said, "I saved dinner for you. It's in the warmer." He nodded at the box in the corner of the room, next to the small cooling unit that was stocked with juices and fruit.
"Thank you." Simon crossed the room and took out the plate. "I'm surprised I was allowed to skip dinner. I thought there were rules."
"The rules aren't as stringent for the doctors. Sometimes they're in the middle of experiments or tests or something and can't be called away. Besides, tonight wasn't the norm anyway. Garrison didn't show up; he hasn't done that since Camille and he first broke up, and then again when she left. And, of course, Camille and your captain and the Companion didn't come either." He picked up a small brushed and dipped it into the container; when he swept it over his eyelid, it turned a pale, pale blue.
"What about River? Is she on the ship? I should..."
"She's next door, sleeping. I took her and Kaylee to dance class with me after everything blew up at the soccer game. I figured that she might feel better dancing than going back to the ship, especially since that's where Camille went. And it worked. She came out of that funk really quickly."
Simon smiled and opened the door, sticking his head into River and Kaylee's room. The girls were curled together under the covers, River's head resting on Kaylee's chest, Kaylee's hand tangled in River's long hair.
Softly, so he didn't wake them, Simon closed the door and turned back to Prophet, who was now working on coloring his already ruddy cheeks. "Thank you."
"No problem. I had dance class anyway. It wasn't like it was all that big of a deal." He set the blush down and picked up a dark red pencil. "If it'd been chemistry, I'd taken her there. Or martial arts, or guns, or whatever." He lined his lips carefully.
"I'd wondered where you'd went. A couple times I turned to give you something, and my constant shadow wasn't there."
Prophet's nose wrinkled. "I stay away from the medical aspects of this place as much as possible. I've had enough of blood and needles and the like. Besides. Medicine is boring."
"You really think so?" Simon pulled a chair near to Prophet and rest his plate on his knees. "Trauma surgery is one of the most exciting fields out there. Despite what my shipmates may think, it did prepare me for the world I live in now in some ways."
"I prefer things that don't breathe. Computers and stuff. But, then, my aversion to all things medical might be because I've been trained to kill people in over three thousand different ways. I wouldn't' want to put myself in a situation where I could learn more ways to do so." Done with lining his lips, he began to paint them, turning them a bright, glossy red.
Simon nodded, chewing his food thoughtfully. "Yes, I could see how that may turn you off to the field. So, computers?"
Prophet shrugged. "They talk to me, I talk to them. Even Garrison doesn't know how good I am with them, or at least he pretends not to. It's the only way I get out of here, even though I can't leave. I've got identities and lives and jobs and everything on other planets, just playing through the computer. I've amassed a huge fortune and disseminated around, invested, bought lands and property."
"Are you planning on taking over for Garrison in case anything should happen to him?"
His mouth turned down as he set the lipstick aside. "I don't let myself think like that," he said softly. He picked up some powder and began powdering his face.
Gently, Simon set his plate down and moved closer to Prophet. "But it has crossed your mind."
"Lots of things have crossed my mind, mainly centering around how I can't really trust anyone but myself and the kids here. Garrison isn't one of us. And he mostly just wants to use us."
"Do you really think that?" He took Prophet's hand and took the powder puff away.
Prophet turned to him. His eyes looked even bluer under the influence of the eyeshadow, and his already pretty features looked soft and feminine now. "Are you asking me if Garrison raped me?"
"Not necessarily, but did he?"
"I've never slept with Garrison. I told Camille I did, once, but that was just me trying to get her to get over him. But no."
"What do you think about what Mal was saying, then. About Garrison having the doctors inject you with a sexually stimulating drug and try to control you like that?"
Prophet snorted. "Please. It's not that Garrison doesn't want to help us. He does. He cares about us, everyone one of us. But he has no qualms or problems using us to continue his war against the Alliance. Not that we mind, as a rule. We're warriors. We hate them. But he's still using us."
Simon rubbed his thumb along Prophet's open thumb. "Your first time. Was it like Camille's?"
"No. God, no. I'm not as afraid of things changing as she is."
"No? I thought she was the chameleon. The best at changing who she is who fit the needs of the job, while you are the one who can't be moved to cover up his pretty face."
Prophet made a face at him. "It's true. She's fantastic at the whole make up and acting thing. It's something she can control. She makes the change and it comes from her. Things from the outside, like growing up or having the lover she was passionately in love with cut her off, she doesn't deal with things like that so well." He frowned. "When things like that happen, she changes herself, transforms, does the chameleon thing. I bet you that tomorrow morning when you see her, she'll have changed her hair and probably spend the day trying to find new clothes to go along with her new look."
Huh. Explained a lot, really. He refocused on Prophet and squeezed his hand. "So your first time didn't have anything that might hint a coercion in it."
"No. My powers were out of control and I was confused, but, mostly, I was tired of feeling so disconnected, that when Trinity... When she came into my room to check on me, see if I wanted anything, anyone, I just..."
Oh, lao tian ye. "Trinity was your first?"
The bright blue eyes stood out brighter, and he blinked rapidly, running a finger along the edges of his lashes. "Pretty much my only. Her and Camille. A few guys, after both of them left. But my first was Trin."
Simon sighed and glanced at the make-up on the table. "This is hers?"
"Yeah."
"Prophet..."
"Can you take me with you?" he asked suddenly, desperation making his voice hoarse. "When you leave, Camille is going to go with Serenity, take me, too."
"Why me?"
He shrugged. "Because. It's you."
Simon sighed and rested his forehead against Prophet's. "I can't make any promises. My life, for so long, has been just about River. I've put everyone on Serenity in danger by taking her on board, and I have no right to ask... ask for something for me."
Prophet's lips twitched. "Put you... you would. Do. Want to keep me."
"You're so nao huo. And too smart for your own good." He traced his thumb down Prophet's cheek. "Too pretty. You would torture Jayne and drive Mal insane. You'd play games with Wash until everyone would want to kick you both off, and you'd be one more mouth to feed."
"I know." Prophet sat back, still holding Simon's hand, a smug grin on his face. "But just try to live without now having lived *with* me." He kissed Simon gently, then rose. "Don't stay up too late. You look exhausted."
"I'll just finish eating and then... wash up," he said, watching Prophet strip to his boxers and climb into Simon's bed.
"Okay." Prophet used his shirt to wipe some of the make-up off his face before lying back and pulling the covers over his head. "Night, Simon."
Simon shook his head wearily and picked up his dinner once more. "Good-night, tian cai. Sleep well. An mian."
qi fen= angry
lao tian ye= God in heaven
nao huo= aggravating/annoying
tian cai= genius (gift)
An mian= sleep peacefully
What I have:
SMALLVILLE
COTW
LLAR2
Fine/Lex as professors who bet who can seduce Clark first.
The Robin Hood bunny (with Lex as Maid Marian)
The Shakespear in Love/Stage Beauty bunny where Clark falls in love with skirt!actor Lex
POTC
Continuing the Jack/James with Gavin story
LOST
Finishing/continuing the Jack/Boone series
Firefly
The Passenger
Pitch Black
Twin Flames
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
A Chocolate Factory for Veruca (Or, How Veruca Finally got her Orgasm)
Harry Potter
My mary sue story
Supernatural
A fic where Dean learns the joys of bottoming
Plus, my original novel, which I need to keep reasearching and try to finish so I can, someday, publish it.
Do you think I have enough on my plate? Dear Lord.
Back on Serenity, not speaking to Mal once again. This was stupid; Camille could just as easily be in her own room not speaking to anyone, but, no, she was doing it here. Because this is where he'd brought her and at least there was a lock on the door here. Plus, there weren't any mind readers and Camille really wanted to be alone.
How could he do that? Think that about Garrison? Mal was wrong, so really, *really* wrong. Garrison did *not* rape her and, God, now everything was... tainted.
Not because Camille thought that Mal was right. The androgen blocker was real, the feelings she'd gone through right after were real, and her desire for Garrison had always been real.
But now, every time she thought about her first time, she was going to hear Mal's voice in her head. Because, truth was, some of what he'd said made sense. She had been young, and while she didn't know about the prettiest, she had been vulnerable. Maybe he should have just let the Companions do their job before taking her to his room. Maybe he should have let the other kids calm her down. Maybe...
Maybe he should have been prepared for the consequences of sleeping with her. And not gotten scared so far down the line.
Camille sighed and rolled onto her stomach, pulling a pillow over her head.
Garrison still loved her. She could see that, feel it, and read it in his head. Garrison as a sensitive, and, more than that, he was good at masking his thoughts. Only the most powerful were able to read him all the time, and they'd all refused to tell Camille what he thought about her.
She'd known that Mal hated Garrison for having been with her. She hadn't realized that Garrison would hate Mal for Camille's feelings for him.
There was a knock on the door. "Camille?" Inara called. "May I come in?"
She sighed and forced herself out of the bed. Crossing the room, she unlocked the door, then quickly went back. "It's open," she said, throwing herself onto it and pulling the covers over herself.
"Is it really that bad?" Inara asked, laughing softly.
"Yes," she replied, voice muffled by the comforter.
The bed dipped and Inara put her hand on Camille's back, massaging it gently. "I thought maybe I should come talk to you."
"You heard what happened"
"Well. It is a small school."
Camille laughed. "Yeah. And it's even smaller by the instant communication of telepathy."
"It does help get information around." She rubbed Camille's back a little harder. "So."
"So what?"
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Camille, I'm worried about you. About what Mal said happened between you and Garrison."
Camille groaned and pushed the covers off her head. "Mal's got it all wrong. Garrison didn't rape me. He didn't force me to do anything. It was a lovely, perfect first time and Mal is ruining it for me!" With hat, she pulled the covers back over her head.
There was a moment of silence. Then, Inara remarked, "Loving Mal is a lot like stabbing yourself in the heart over and over again, isn't it?"
"Wouldn't know. Don't love him."
"Right. And he doesn't love you, and you're not both making yourself miserable by pretending you're both not desperately in love with each other."
Camille pulled the covers off. "Do you not understand English? I'm not in love with Malcolm."
"Who are you trying to convince, mei mei? Me or yourself?" She smiled gently and rubbed Camille's leg.
Tears rose to Camille's eyes. Furious at herself, she grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her face. "I hate my life."
"Camille," Inara started, but then she stopped. The bed shifted again, and then the pillow was taken from Camille's face. "All right. I want you to tell me about your first time."
"I don't..."
"I want to know how wonderful it was," Inara interrupted with a soft smile. "I want to hear how excited you were, how nervous. How much you wanted him, how scared you were to take that step, but how perfect he made it for you. Tell me."
"Why? So you can go back to Mal and tell him everything's okay and it wasn't bad?"
"No. You said Mal's ruining this memory for you, and I can see how. So tell me what happened. You know I'm not going to judge, I'm not like him."
Camille sat up, swiping at her eyes with the back of her wrist. "You honestly mean to tell me that you weren't sent in by him to counsel me through this? You are trained and all."
"Mal didn't ask me to talk to you. He's too busy making sure all his weapons work. I heard about the fight and realized that you probably needed someone to talk to. As a friend."
She rolled her eyes. "There's not much to say. I mean, it was... it wasn't that different from sleeping with anyone. I was just younger and more inexperienced. Scared. I'd been here about two weeks or so. I honestly.... I can't remember how long and I never look at my files because it reminds me too much of... of being sick and confused and everything. I wasn't like River when I first got here. I was pretty incoherent and stuff."
"River was, too, when she was first brought out of stasis," Inara said.
"Yeah. I've been saying how she's more powerful than I am and everything, but that doesn't always determine how hard the transition between the Academy and here is. They had a hard time helping me get anywhere near sane because when Garrison got me out, he had to leave behind most of my unit. And even thought I didn't want to go back to the Academy, I needed my unit. I needed to know they were okay, and I kept fightin', trying to escape and just get back to my unit. Garrison said that every unit commander they got out did the same thing. He always tried to get the unit out first, but it weren't always possible." She sighed and tugged on the ends of her hair.
"Anyway, they finally got me calmed down enough to get the androgen blocker out and start me on all that. And, like Mal screamed to everyone, I was scared and uncomfortable with people touching me. I wanted Garrison, I really did, but I didn't know how to tell him that. I knew he'd slept with kids before me, but I had such a crush on him." Camille smiled, cheeks warming at the memory. "He was around me all the time those first few weeks, calming me down, sparring with me, playing games. When I get really upset, I need physical activity to calm down. I've always been like that, ever since I was a kid. So he was there, and he's so cute and sexy and his eyes... when they looked at me I felt safe and cherished."
"You fell in love with him. He was your hero."
Camille nodded. "He was. And I was a kid. But I was feeling like every kid my age had felt for years, only my body was working overtime to catch up, so it felt worse. And there he was, just perfect. But I felt stupid so I didn't tell him that I wanted him. So, I tried to sleep with the Companions, and that didn't work. I mean, we'd be sitting there, drinking tea, talking all comfortable. They always went for my hair next, cause it was long and pretty and I hadn't every done anything with it since before I was a solider. And then, they tried to kiss me and I'd tense up. Finally Garrison just came in and took me to his room."
"Did he lock you in?"
"No! There are no locks here, not even on his room." Camille rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow to hug to her chest. "Anyway. Once we were in there, it was like nothing else existed. His whole room is lined with mud from Higgins Moon, so you can't sense anyone outside, or into his room, which can be a pain It's a sanctuary, and it was just him and me. He had candles lit, and we drank coca and played chess, until I yanked the damn board away from him because he kept winning." She smiled at the memory. "He braided my hair. We read and talked about stuff. And then he kissed me and it was just perfect. Everything I'd always been waiting for. By the time we got to that point, and I was in bed with him and his hands were on me, I couldn't remember why I'd been so nervous before."
"It sounds like you weren't willing to share your body with someone you didn't truly want, at least not the first time," Inara said. "You were falling in love with Garrison. And even if it was because he'd saved you and you had a sever case of hero worship, the fact remains is he was your choice."
Camille nodded and rested her cheek on the pillow. "He was. Mal is wrong, you know. About Garrison drugging us. Maybe being experimented on would have stunted our sexual development, but not so we couldn't feel anything. Not like that. And River and Kaylee have tried having sex, but Kaylee said River ever responded. It's not just in our head. But I don't know how to prove that to Mal."
Inara took the pillow away from Camille and move closer to her. "Don't worry about proving it to Mal. Simon will take care of that part. He's doing the research right now, and he'll do the surgery tomorrow. He'll be able to convince Mal that Garrison hasn't simply been creating his own harem here." She touched Camille's cheek. "But you do need to talk to Mal about what he's doing to your precious memory. He doesn't need to hear the story. He's a jealous lover. Believe me, I know."
"Does it bother you?"
She sighed. "A little. I still love him. But it's never going to work. I'm a Companion. It's my calling, and I can't give that up for anyone. Not even someone I love. Mal won't share me, and I won't... I can't belong to anyone. I don't want to. So I know I have to let him go." Inara smiled self-deprecatingly. "When I first came back, I had the hardest time talking to Simon. I felt he'd betrayed me, even though I knew I was being stupid and unfair. But it felt personal, like he'd gone after someone who belonged to me. But, then I realized that Mal and I could never make each other happy, and that's what love is. Being with someone who makes you happy." She took Camille's hand. "You two have the possibility to make one another very happy. I can see that. You just, both, have to stop being stupid."
"I'll get right on that," Camille said wryly. Then she sighed, tugging her hair back from her face. "I don't know what happy is."
"Really?"
Camille sighed again and shook her head. "No. I mean, I guess I do. I'm mostly happy. Most of the time, really. I just... lately, nothing is going right, you know?" Her mouth crimped and tears rose to her eyes. "And what makes it worse is that I'm worried about my love life and Trinity. Trinity's dead."
"Oh, baby." Inara pulled Camille into her arms and rocked gently. Her hand smoothed down Camille's back as she cried, soft and warm and oh-so gentle.
And just not what she wanted at all. Not who she wanted.
Still, Inara was comfort and beauty and strangely like Trinity, too. Long, dark hair, and deep, fathomless eyes. A mysterious aura of maturity and protectiveness and serenity. Camille had worshiped Trinity, glowed at the fact that the other girl had ever deigned to notice her, much less count Camille as one of her best friends. And Camille had been drawn to Inara partly because of her resemblance to Trinity, whom Camille hadn't seen in over sixth long months until the night she killed herself.
"Do you want to talk about her?" Inara asked, lips brushing over Camille's temple.
Camille shook her head, digging her fingers into Inara's shoulders. "No."
"That's fine. That's fine, honey." She kissed Camille's forehead and then rested her head on top of Camille's, still massaging her back.
The door opened and Mal stuck his head in. "Camille," he said, voice faltering when he saw her in tears. He frowned, a dark shadow falling over his face. "Camille, don't ... I'm sorry."
She untangled herself from Inara. "It's not... I'm not..." She couldn't talk, couldn't stop crying.
Inara stood up and faced Mal. "She's mourning the death of her friend, Mal."
"Ah." Mal nodded and crossed the room to the bed. As he passed Inara, she took his hand, and he stopped, looking at her.
Something passed between them, but Camille didn't pry into their minds or thoughts. It wasn't her place, and she wouldn't want Inara reading into her and Mal.
Finally, Inara smiled, squeezed his hand, and let it drop. With one final glance at Camille, she left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"Camille," Mal said tentatively, sinking onto the bed next to her. He put his hand on her back, tense, like he expected her to throw him off. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Can you raise the dead?" she asked, wiping her nose on the back of her sleeve.
"Well. No."
Her lower lip trembled. "Then could you just stay with me?" Her voice cracked as she asked, more tears flooding down her face.
Mal reached over and pulled her into his lap, moving so his back was resting against the wall. "Yes, darlin'. I'll stay."
* * *
By the time Simon got back to his room, it was nearly midnight. His head hurt, his eyes ached, and his back was killing him. He hadn't eaten since lunch and had completely forgotten about dinner in his quest to study up for surgery tomorrow and to see if there was even the slightest possibility that Mal had been right.
He didn't appear to be. Simon wasn't a computer hacker by any means, but he'd seen tampered files before and the ones he'd studied didn't seem tampered with at all. Everything, even the files that had been stolen from the Alliance, showed that every kid here had an absence of hormones that promoted sexual activity. In fact, they'd been forced through puberty by a mixture of carefully selected hormones that developed their bodies while numbing their genitals.
It was sick. Disgusting. All these children, denied the chance to experience life just because the Alliance wanted to create super warriors.
With a growl, Simon threw the datapads he'd brought with him from the labs onto his desk.
"Something wrong?"
Simon turned, unsurprised to see Prophet sitting in his room. He was surprised to see that Prophet had pulled a chair to dresser and was using the mirror hanging over it to help him carefully apply mascara to his already insanely long lashes.
"I'm just cranky. And qi fen at the Alliance for what they did to you all." He sighed and scrubbed his eyes wearily. "As if I wasn't angry enough before."
Prophet nodded, placing the mascara on the dresser and picking up a small container. As he unscrewed the cap, he said, "I saved dinner for you. It's in the warmer." He nodded at the box in the corner of the room, next to the small cooling unit that was stocked with juices and fruit.
"Thank you." Simon crossed the room and took out the plate. "I'm surprised I was allowed to skip dinner. I thought there were rules."
"The rules aren't as stringent for the doctors. Sometimes they're in the middle of experiments or tests or something and can't be called away. Besides, tonight wasn't the norm anyway. Garrison didn't show up; he hasn't done that since Camille and he first broke up, and then again when she left. And, of course, Camille and your captain and the Companion didn't come either." He picked up a small brushed and dipped it into the container; when he swept it over his eyelid, it turned a pale, pale blue.
"What about River? Is she on the ship? I should..."
"She's next door, sleeping. I took her and Kaylee to dance class with me after everything blew up at the soccer game. I figured that she might feel better dancing than going back to the ship, especially since that's where Camille went. And it worked. She came out of that funk really quickly."
Simon smiled and opened the door, sticking his head into River and Kaylee's room. The girls were curled together under the covers, River's head resting on Kaylee's chest, Kaylee's hand tangled in River's long hair.
Softly, so he didn't wake them, Simon closed the door and turned back to Prophet, who was now working on coloring his already ruddy cheeks. "Thank you."
"No problem. I had dance class anyway. It wasn't like it was all that big of a deal." He set the blush down and picked up a dark red pencil. "If it'd been chemistry, I'd taken her there. Or martial arts, or guns, or whatever." He lined his lips carefully.
"I'd wondered where you'd went. A couple times I turned to give you something, and my constant shadow wasn't there."
Prophet's nose wrinkled. "I stay away from the medical aspects of this place as much as possible. I've had enough of blood and needles and the like. Besides. Medicine is boring."
"You really think so?" Simon pulled a chair near to Prophet and rest his plate on his knees. "Trauma surgery is one of the most exciting fields out there. Despite what my shipmates may think, it did prepare me for the world I live in now in some ways."
"I prefer things that don't breathe. Computers and stuff. But, then, my aversion to all things medical might be because I've been trained to kill people in over three thousand different ways. I wouldn't' want to put myself in a situation where I could learn more ways to do so." Done with lining his lips, he began to paint them, turning them a bright, glossy red.
Simon nodded, chewing his food thoughtfully. "Yes, I could see how that may turn you off to the field. So, computers?"
Prophet shrugged. "They talk to me, I talk to them. Even Garrison doesn't know how good I am with them, or at least he pretends not to. It's the only way I get out of here, even though I can't leave. I've got identities and lives and jobs and everything on other planets, just playing through the computer. I've amassed a huge fortune and disseminated around, invested, bought lands and property."
"Are you planning on taking over for Garrison in case anything should happen to him?"
His mouth turned down as he set the lipstick aside. "I don't let myself think like that," he said softly. He picked up some powder and began powdering his face.
Gently, Simon set his plate down and moved closer to Prophet. "But it has crossed your mind."
"Lots of things have crossed my mind, mainly centering around how I can't really trust anyone but myself and the kids here. Garrison isn't one of us. And he mostly just wants to use us."
"Do you really think that?" He took Prophet's hand and took the powder puff away.
Prophet turned to him. His eyes looked even bluer under the influence of the eyeshadow, and his already pretty features looked soft and feminine now. "Are you asking me if Garrison raped me?"
"Not necessarily, but did he?"
"I've never slept with Garrison. I told Camille I did, once, but that was just me trying to get her to get over him. But no."
"What do you think about what Mal was saying, then. About Garrison having the doctors inject you with a sexually stimulating drug and try to control you like that?"
Prophet snorted. "Please. It's not that Garrison doesn't want to help us. He does. He cares about us, everyone one of us. But he has no qualms or problems using us to continue his war against the Alliance. Not that we mind, as a rule. We're warriors. We hate them. But he's still using us."
Simon rubbed his thumb along Prophet's open thumb. "Your first time. Was it like Camille's?"
"No. God, no. I'm not as afraid of things changing as she is."
"No? I thought she was the chameleon. The best at changing who she is who fit the needs of the job, while you are the one who can't be moved to cover up his pretty face."
Prophet made a face at him. "It's true. She's fantastic at the whole make up and acting thing. It's something she can control. She makes the change and it comes from her. Things from the outside, like growing up or having the lover she was passionately in love with cut her off, she doesn't deal with things like that so well." He frowned. "When things like that happen, she changes herself, transforms, does the chameleon thing. I bet you that tomorrow morning when you see her, she'll have changed her hair and probably spend the day trying to find new clothes to go along with her new look."
Huh. Explained a lot, really. He refocused on Prophet and squeezed his hand. "So your first time didn't have anything that might hint a coercion in it."
"No. My powers were out of control and I was confused, but, mostly, I was tired of feeling so disconnected, that when Trinity... When she came into my room to check on me, see if I wanted anything, anyone, I just..."
Oh, lao tian ye. "Trinity was your first?"
The bright blue eyes stood out brighter, and he blinked rapidly, running a finger along the edges of his lashes. "Pretty much my only. Her and Camille. A few guys, after both of them left. But my first was Trin."
Simon sighed and glanced at the make-up on the table. "This is hers?"
"Yeah."
"Prophet..."
"Can you take me with you?" he asked suddenly, desperation making his voice hoarse. "When you leave, Camille is going to go with Serenity, take me, too."
"Why me?"
He shrugged. "Because. It's you."
Simon sighed and rested his forehead against Prophet's. "I can't make any promises. My life, for so long, has been just about River. I've put everyone on Serenity in danger by taking her on board, and I have no right to ask... ask for something for me."
Prophet's lips twitched. "Put you... you would. Do. Want to keep me."
"You're so nao huo. And too smart for your own good." He traced his thumb down Prophet's cheek. "Too pretty. You would torture Jayne and drive Mal insane. You'd play games with Wash until everyone would want to kick you both off, and you'd be one more mouth to feed."
"I know." Prophet sat back, still holding Simon's hand, a smug grin on his face. "But just try to live without now having lived *with* me." He kissed Simon gently, then rose. "Don't stay up too late. You look exhausted."
"I'll just finish eating and then... wash up," he said, watching Prophet strip to his boxers and climb into Simon's bed.
"Okay." Prophet used his shirt to wipe some of the make-up off his face before lying back and pulling the covers over his head. "Night, Simon."
Simon shook his head wearily and picked up his dinner once more. "Good-night, tian cai. Sleep well. An mian."
qi fen= angry
lao tian ye= God in heaven
nao huo= aggravating/annoying
tian cai= genius (gift)
An mian= sleep peacefully
