Title:  Final Fall

Summary: Post Serenity. The final fall is always proceeded by rescuing the damsel in distress.

Fandom: Serenity/Firefly

Author: bashipforever

Rating: PG-13

Prompt: Passion <lj user=stagesoflove>

 

 

He knocked but as per usual, didn’t wait for an invitation. She’d gotten used to that. She’d even came to welcome it.

 

“Just wanted to check on you…make sure you were okay.” His voice was gruff and weary.

 

“I’m…” she hesitated. It would be easy to offer him a lie. Companions were trained to lie with a silky smoothness that would make most criminals envious. She wasn’t fine though besides they were beyond lies at least she wanted to think they were. It was partially selfish. If she lied he’d leave and right now even Serenity failed to give her that feeling of safety she craved. <i>The way you feel when he shows up</i>

 

Her falter was all the encouragement he needed. He crossed the room in one long stride, pulling her body to him with disregard to the fact that he was still attired in torn, dirty clothes or that he himself needed a bath. He’d meant to comfort her, to check her limbs, make sure he hadn’t missed a bump or a bruise instead his lips had found hers and the only bruise she’d bear witness to were the ones his kisses left her upon her lips. . That was the moment she stopped being a companion and started being his.

 

 

She’d offered a meager protest, drowned out by their mutual need. His hands cupped her face the way she’d once seen him hold an engine part for Serenity. His hand slid down the curve of her neck, catching the silk and dragging it down her back. That touch was her final fall.

 

 The contrast of cool silk and the heat of his work roughened hands was her undoing. Thoughts of couldn’t, shouldn’t and wouldn’t fled along with all her fears about what this would mean.

 

“’Nara.” His voice was a ragged whisper as he pulled away from her, his body trembling. She watched him, eyes wide, mouth agape. She’d slept with a lot of men in her time but she’d never had one pull away from her. “You can’t jerk a body ‘round like this,” he continued. “If we do this… I’m in from boot heels to eyebrows.”

 

Her laughter was an unexpected sound, one that he misunderstood. Anger darkened his face, scowling his brow. Before he could turn and storm out of the shuttle the way she was certain he intended on doing, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “From the moment I laid eyes on you I’ve been in…from boot heels to eyebrows.”