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Title: Skinny Dipping At The Waterhole
Series: Firefly
Character/Pairing: a bit of Mal/Simon, implied Jayne/Kaylee
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 855
Author’s Note: [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic Firefly, Mal/Simon, swimming


The water hole was a far cry from the pristine chlorinated pools he’d swum in as a child. River was at the side, her hair spilling out as she looked fascinated into the water. His first instinct was to pull her away. It was dirty, and she could fall in.

“Well, this looks like as good as any to clean up.”

Jayne peeled off his shirt and threw it aside in a pile.

“Do you have any sense of modesty?” Simon said, quickly averting his eyes so he didn’t have to stare at Jayne’s hairy rear.

“‘course not. Look hard, boy. This is what a real man looks like. I bet you never swam in a pool like this, eh boy?” Jayne barked with laughter.

Without further ado, he canonballed into the water hole. A splash almost equal to a tidal wave splashed over some of the closer ones, namely Zoe and Mal. They stood there, dripping wet as Jayne leaned back in the water.

“Well, it looks like it isn’t poison, otherwise we’d be down a crew member,” Zoe said dryly.

“It ain’t poison. If it were poison then there wouldn’t be fish.”

Jayne pulled out a fish he’d managed to catch with his bare hands and Simon has to admit that it was impressive. Most everyone was impressed, especially Kaylee.

The rest of the crew stripped down too, although most of them had something else on, old clothes torn up of some kind. Kaylee had a pair of cutoffs and a engine stained shirt, while Zoe had a shirt which at one point must have been white and Wash had his least favorite shirt with garish flowers on. Only Mal and Jayne wore nothing at all, their clothes in a pile by the waterhole.

“Inara doesn’t know what she’s missing,” Jayne said.

“Yes, I’m sure she’d love a good mud bath. It be so much better than her scented mineral water,” Simon said.

“Don’t think so down on mud. Down in the core they pay for mud baths and call it a spa treatment,” Mal said.

Jayne held up another fish and Kaylee clapped her hands together in glee. “We’re going to eat good tonight!”

Even River walked in, her dress made a bubble of air as she walked towards them. He put his hand out to call her back, but she smiled and laughed as she stepped in the muddy water. It was such a rare thing these days.

Now only Simon was left on the outside.

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” Mal said.

“Swim like a man, naked!” Jayne called back. “Unless you’re afraid of the water – or that you’ve got something to hide, like maybe a cooter.”

Jayne laughed while Zoe and Kaylee rolled their eyes. Good ol’ Jayne would never failed to make a comment. Otherwise he might ruin his reputation and people would suspect that he secretly hugged kittens. Or something.

Simon wrinkled his nose. “I’ll pass. It doesn’t look hygienic.”

“You misunderstand – it wasn’t a request.”

Mal moved fast in the water, faster than he’d have thought as he reached up, grabbed Simons legs and pulled him in. There was a big splash as he fell in, and then was pulled up wet and still very much clothed in one of his favorite suits.

“My...suit,” Simon gasped as he spat out water and coughed.

“You needed a cleaning outfit anyways,” Mal said.

Simon then noted that he was still against a very naked, very wet and very attractive Mal who still had his arm about him. He pushed away before something embarrassing and very public happened.

“C’mon, off with it. You’ll sink to the bottom like that. B’sides, a pretty little city boy like you should learn how to skinny dip once in a while,” Mal said.

Simon undid the buttons and peeled it off.

“All of it, no holding out on us now,” Mal said.

Simon grimaced and began to undo his pants.

“Let me help you with that, doc,” Mal said.

Simon froze as Mal’s hands were at his waist.

There was something to be said about working in water, but it still took Mal an awful long time to find his zipper with several findings of another kind along the way. Simon stood there, jaw clenched and trying not to moan. He’d had a fantasy like this once, and yes, Mal was in it. They were also alone, in a much cleaner pool at dark with a low moon.

“Ah, male bonding. I’d join in, but my wife would get jealous,” Wash said sagely.

“You fancy citter boys probably don’t even know how to swim,” Jayne sneered.

“Well, we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” Mal said. Then lower, he said “Tonight before we leave.”

Simon had plenty of lessons. That didn’t mean there wasn’t plenty of things that Mal could teach him.

“Alright then,” he said.

He’d be looking forward to it.



Title: A Man With Rough Hands
Series: Firefly
Character/Pairing: past Simon/Kaylee, Simon > Mal, the beginnings of Jayne/Kaylee.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 770
Author’s note: [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic: Firefly, Jayne/Kaylee, blue eyes and big hands
This is post BDM but ignores certain character deaths in said BDM because in my head~canon (unless it’s angst time) they lived.


*

Kaylee had always liked big men with rough hands, especially if they smelled of engine oil. She loved the sandpaper rough feel of callouses over her stomach, her breasts during sex of a man who wasn’t going to coddle her or try and just ‘make love.’ Sure Kaylee liked her romance, but she liked it rough, in corners of machinery where it was cold and uncomfortable and left marks on her for days.

She’d always said she’d marry a man with blue eyes and big hands. Maybe a mechanic, and they’d have lit’uns all running about – maybe even their own fixing business. That had been her plans before she met Serenity, and then Mal.

So it was strange that she’d fallen for Simon, whose hands were as soft as the kinds of materials Inara wore. He wasn’t coarse or strong, but she’d fallen for him none the less. He was just so very pretty and shiny she couldn’t resist him. She should’ve really taken that prettiness as a warning, but it took him calling out Mal while they were having sex to show that he was sly. She wasn’t angry at him for that long, because it wasn’t his fault, really. She’d poured out her heart and had a good cry for the little love that almost was. Inara had stroked her hair and explained that on some planets, it was more taboo. Simon probably came from one of those and hadn’t quite accepted himself yet.

But Kaylee didn’t regret or dwell on things. Life was made for happiness, not brooding! So she moved on and wished him the best. They were still friends, even if it was a little awkward. More for Simon than her, but he’d get used to it with time.

After that, Kaylee swore off pretty boys. Only coarse men for her. Tall men with wide shoulders and big hands – those were much less likely to turn sly on her, and they’d probably be better lovers to boot. They’d not be awkward and apologetic, but they’d know how to treat a woman.

*

That day she asked Jayne for help fixin’ the rotor. She couldn’t quite reach it, and he was always lifting her up during ball games so it wasn’t that big of a stretch.. It was a simple enough task, but there was no getting a ladder in this close quarters. A few bolts fixed her, a belt fixed here and they were good to go. And it all would have gone smooth had the can of engine oil not slipped from her hands and all over them.

“Gorramit!”

“Sorry,” she said. “It just slipped right out.”

“It fell on my foot!”

She stifled a giggle, and then failed to as he went on in imperfect Cantonese.

He set her down and they both checked the damage. There was engine oil everywhere. Mal was going to rip them a new one over wasting perfectly good oil, and this was going to be one mighty bad mess to clean up.

Overall, though Jayne wasn’t too heartbroken about the mess. Not like the fussy sort of way Simon would’ve been if he’d gotten dirty. He wiped off the grease from his face, and took one contemptuous glance at his shirt.

“Didn’t like this shirt anyways,” he said. He pulled it off and threw it on the floor

Jayne was hairy and coarse – a real man’s man. She’d seen him many times before, so he wasn’t new to her. Still, this was the first time she’d taken a closer look. He’d lifted her up and away enough times to know he was plenty calloused. He always had a scent of oil on him from cleaning Vera, which she liked on a man. Better than fancy colognes that seemed better fitted for Inara. She never saw the appeal in those.

“What are you staring at?” Jayne said. He bent and picked up his shirt and wiped at his face and chest for some spot he must have missed.

“Nothing much, just you,” she said with a smile.

There was something there now – maybe it’d always been there, she just hadn’t been listening. Something new and warm. She had a feeling she’d be doing a lot more looking at Jayne for now on.



Title: The Trousers of Time
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: it’s fairly gen until the end. The Dragon wants it to be Arthur/Merlin, though
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 627
Author’s note: [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic: The trousers of time, Arthur/Merlin.



“What kind of a name is ‘the trousers of time’ for an artifact?” Arthur said in irritation. He wiped the sweat from his brow. They’d asked the peasants around here, only to summarily laughed at. Getting laughed derisively by stinking manure covered peasants had not helped Arthur’s perpetual bad mood.

“Well, the Dragon did say it was colloquial– So it’s probably just a nickname,” Merlin said.

“Joy. Now we have to go with a nickname that causes all the lower class to laugh at us. Even Gaius started laughing when we asked him,” Arthur said. He stuck his sword in the ground in frustration and stared out at the grassy fields outside Camelot. Suddenly, a thought struck him, which made him grab his sword, wipe it off and sheath it before he turned to Merlin (reminding him yet again that the sword took precedence)

“Wait, you said the Dragon. Was it the Dragon who sent us on this idiotic errand?”

“Yes. Erm, why do you ask?” Merlin said.

“Well that explains it.”

Arthur undid the belt of Merlin’s pants and pulled them down in one powerful stroke.

“What are you doing?! You-re-you’re trying to take off my pants—”

“It’s the Dragon.. He’s not looking for ancient treasure. Let’s go back.”

“O-Oh. Er, Arthur, I have no pants,” Merlin said.

“That’s the point. Get going,” Arthur said.

Merlin looked down at his pantlessness and shuffled awkward and nearly half-naked behind him.

*

Merlin took to hiding behind Arthur the whole way, with an extra blanket wrapped about him so he didn’t expose all of Camelot to his underthings. Arthur held up Merlin’s pants like a trophy won from a great battle. When they arrived in the caverns, Arthur led the way, smug as always, especially so for figuring out the Dragon’s enigmatic words.

When they came, the Dragon already lay in wait, eager for their arrival.

“And have you sought the Trousers of Time?” The Dragon said.

Merlin covered himself, freezing and blushing. Arthur lifted up his pants.

“We’ve got what you wanted, Dragon,” Arthur said.

“Quite close, young Pendragon. However if you had found the Trousers of Time, then you would be smiling!”

“What exactly is this Trousers of Time you keep sending me? You say nonsense and send me in circles. I should put my sword in your gullet you–”

The Dragon cut him short with his deep, rumbling laughter. “And if you did, your sword would break in half and then I would be forced to eat you. That isn’t a particularly good scenario, now is it, young Pendragon?”

Arthur looked on, sullen. “Just tell us what you sent us for.”

“Oh, the Trousers Of Time... it is a Dragon term. A human equivalent might be ‘a roll in the hay’.”

“...so, when you said that Prince Arthur and I should seek ‘the Trousers of Time’ if we were to succeed you meant–” Merling said haltingly.

The Dragon grinned broadly, and flew up the cave to his bed.

“It is the only way to succeed! And the only way to lessen young Pendragon’s severe case of pratitis!” he said, his voice echoing behind him.

They stood there a long moment, taking it in. Finally, Merlin broke the silence.

“Can I have my pants back now?”

“Actually, Merlin, I believe I won these. I might as well have something to show for this farce. Besides, I rather like this look on you.”

Merlin blushed.

Somewhere in the cave, they heard the Dragon laughing in glee.



Title: The Juiciest Bit Of Gossip
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Gwen and Morgana friendship, implied Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 618
Author’s note: [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic Merlin, Gwen/Morgana, gossip



Gwen folded the newly washed linens as Lady Morgana wrote in her books.

Lady Morgana then closed the journal and put it on a small table beside her bed.

“Gwen, come here a moment,” she said.

“Yes, m’lady?”

“Sit down.” She patted the bed beside her.

“I still have chores to do,” she said apologetically.

“Then please make one of them spending time with me,” Lady Morgana said with a smile. “Don’t worry Gwen. I won’t let them bully you about it. If they make a fuss then I will say that you were merely attending to me.”

“Alright then,” Gwen said, with a bit of a smile herself.

Then again, talking with Lady Morgana was hardly a chore. She wasn’t like most of the other nobles, especially Arthur who’d rub in the fact that she was a servant. When she talked to Lady Morgana she sometimes forgot that there was a class difference at all, and they were merely too girls enjoying each other’s company.

“You know Lady Trainhein?” Morgana said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Was she the ruddy one with the very large bosoms?”

“Yes, that’s the one. I hear she’s taken a younger lover very soon after her husband’s tragic death in his sleep,” Lady Morgana said, a wicked smile coming over her face. “Her husband wasn’t that old himself. There’s a certain suggestion, a rumor that his death wasn’t natural.”

“No! Really?” Gwen said, scandalized, yet fascinated.

“And Lord Phanmuth is said to spend waay too much time around his prize horses.”

“What? Are you saying that he, he–”

“It could be a reason why his wife is ‘barren’,” Lady Morgana said, a positively wicked smile coming over her.

They both stared at each other a moment, two, three, and then collapsed into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, oh Lady Morgana,” Gwen said between giggles. “You are so naughty.”

“Gwen how many times do I have to tell you? When we are alone and like this it is only ‘Morgana’. Unless you’d want me to act like our Prince of Pratliness, Arthur and make you be my footrest while I eat apples?” Morgana said.

“Oh no, I think I’ll pass on that one,” Gwen said. She tried to hide a widening smile, another fit of giggles that was fluttering at her chest like a group of unleashed moths to a light.

“Wait, you know something. Gossip about Arthur? Please tell!”

“Well...I did run into Merlin coming out of Prince Arthur’s quarters last night about midnight – which in itself isn’t suspicious as the prince works poor Merlin to death. It was more...more the rumbled nature of his clothes, that his hair was all in disarray and that he blushed so hard his ears were bright red when he saw me.”

No,” Lady Morgana said, agahst. “Really? Arthur and his manservant? Now that you point it out, it seems to explain quite a lot. I should go and tease him, and allude that I know something just to see him squirm. That’s the best bit of gossip I’ve gotten this week, no this year. Thank you, Gwen.”

“It’s nothing really,” Gwen said with a shy smile.

Lady Morgana rose abruptly. “In fact, I think I’ll do so right away.”

Gwen smiled as she left, a sadder smile now, for she was back in a world of plain clothes and chores with the nobility and all their beautiful clothes and torrid lives merely a story told that for her might as well be fiction.



Title: The Magic Words
Series: Merlin
Character/Pairing: Arthur/Merlin sorta
Word count: 662
Author’s note: [livejournal.com profile] comment_fic: Merlin, Arthur/Merlin, magic words



There were two magic phrases that Arthur has no grasp on, and they were ‘please’ and ‘thank you’. Except when used sarcastically, such as ‘it’d be nice if you were to please grace us with your presence, I’d be thankful.’ or thank you for that brilliant show of intelligence’. Otherwise one would assume that for Arthur did not have any concept of what the words meant at all.

They were up there with other magic words that actually brought forth magic. Or so Merlin had thought. He never thought he’d see (or hear, really) the day when Arthur said them for real.

*

It’d been a bad day all around. Some new enchantment over Camelot, one which Merlin had found to get the brunt of. He’d called it to him, rather than have the whole lot of Camelot die as the magic in his veins would fight it. Fire to fire, like to like. This was a rather stupid idea, considering that it meant that no one with magic was left to fight it, save Gaius, and he was a bit old to go traipsing around on white horses trying to save the world yet again.

(It wasn’t until later that he’d find out the rest, though it always was a bit fragmentary. There was some complicated chain of magic from Morgause to Morgana which somehow made Arthur the oblivious hero in the story via some found herb for a potion or other. After that everything got fuzzy.)

So it was that Merlin’s fever broke, and his magic won over the malignant magic. His eyes fluttered to find Arthur knelt beside the bed, his head leaned against the blanket near his knees.

Merlin could have sworn he’d heard a voice – Arthur’s voice – saying Please live, Merlin. and then, ...thank you for being alive, for everything really. He could have sworn he even heard something like an apology for all the mistreatments. However, Arthur didn’t say such things, meaning the fever had distorted his hearing, or it’d been a hallucination through and through.

Arthur lifted his head and rubbed his eyes before finally focusing – and finding – that Merlin was there, awake and well.

“You’re alive,” Arthur said. “About time you woke up. We were all waiting for you.”

“...What did you say?” Merlin said, his voice still shaky.

“That you’re alive?”

“No, no, before that. I could have sworn you said something else...”
“I’m not going to repeat it. If you didn’t hear then too bad.”

“But that’s no fair! I was sick, you know. I should at least know what you were saying to me,” Merlin said.

“..I said ‘thank you for finally bothering to come back to the living, sleeping beauty.’”

“But sleeping beauty was woken by a kiss from a prince,” Merlin said slowly.

His lips did seem a bit raw and tingly.

“It’s just an expression!” Arthur said. He was supremely irritated now, and Merlin knew better than to push his luck. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Could you get Gaius please? I’m dying for a drink.”

“I’ll call someone. Gaius is asleep with everyone else.”

“What time is it?” Merlin said. For the first time he noticed the dark circles beneath Arthur’s eyes.

“Sometime at night. I don’t know, there’s no clock around here.”

Arthur stumbled out and Merlin pushed himself up. There was a few personal things, as if Arthur had set up camp there keeping watch by his bedside. But Arthur didn’t do things like that, so Merlin shook it off. He’d probably just come in short while ago and couldn’t be without every luxury known to man.

Merlin tried to push away the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that when he had heard the words please live and thank you for being alive he had been lucid.

Date: 2009-12-15 02:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hane-no-kori.livejournal.com
I read the Merlin ones. They're all brilliant. And the dragon is such a fangirl. Or fanboy, I suppose.

In "The Juiciest Bit of Gossip": "When she talked to Lady Morgana she sometimes forgot that there was a class difference at all, and they were merely *too* girls enjoying each other’s company." - the too should be two. Just thought I'd point that out. :D Also, the tenses are a bit odd at the beginning and end of "The Magic Words".

Thanks for making my morning a little brighter. :D

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