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Firefly drabble
Fandom: Firefly
Character/Pairing: Mal, anyone or Mal/anyone (heh)
Prompt: 'I don't want to, but for you I'm willing to...'
For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
trillingstar
A/N: Here's your lightly slashy Mal/Book fic.
THE SPECIAL HELL
“Hey there, Shepherd, what brings you to the galley at this hour?”
“I’m having a hard time sleeping. I thought a cup of tea might be the thing to help it along.”
“You’re in luck. Was just making a cup for my own self but there’s more’n enough to share.” He filled a mug for the Shepherd, and then filled his own. “So what’s got you all riled up?”
“Riled up?”
“Made it so you can’t sleep.”
“I think I’m missing my usual exercise. Jayne’s off with his ladies, so I’m lacking my usual spotter. I don’t suppose you could be enticed to fill in for him.”
“I don’t want to, but for you I’m willing to do it this once. Just don’t try to preach to me.”
“I’ll keep my attention on the weights.”
“That’s fine then.”
The two men went to the cargo hold where Jayne’s weight bench was set up. Book stripped off his shirt and lay down on the bench. Mal helped him adjust the weights and watched the Shepherd begin his rotations.
“You give Jayne the talk about the Special Hell before he went off with his ladies?”
“Jayne and I talk about many things, and while I wish he had other pastimes, he’s enjoying the company of consenting women. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Why padre, what would your sweet and fluffy Lord have to say?”
“I thought you didn’t want to hear me preach.”
“Fair enough.” He paused, watching Book, raise and lower the weights. “You’re pretty well built for a Shepherd.”
“And how many Shepherds have you watched... lift weights?”
“I just didn’t expect it. For a man of your... station in life, you hold up pretty well.”
“Thank you, Malcolm. I’ll take that as a compliment, and not a reflection on my age.”
“Station in life.”
“Exactly. Could you...?”
Mal helped him ease the weights back up onto the rack, and then watched as the Shepherd toweled himself off with the shirt. Mal's mouth suddenly went dry and he shook his head as if to clear his mind of the images that were suddenly parading through it.
“Shepherd, can a man go to the Special Hell just for thinking something he shouldn’t?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Character/Pairing: Mal, anyone or Mal/anyone (heh)
Prompt: 'I don't want to, but for you I'm willing to...'
For:
trillingstarA/N: Here's your lightly slashy Mal/Book fic.
THE SPECIAL HELL
“Hey there, Shepherd, what brings you to the galley at this hour?”
“I’m having a hard time sleeping. I thought a cup of tea might be the thing to help it along.”
“You’re in luck. Was just making a cup for my own self but there’s more’n enough to share.” He filled a mug for the Shepherd, and then filled his own. “So what’s got you all riled up?”
“Riled up?”
“Made it so you can’t sleep.”
“I think I’m missing my usual exercise. Jayne’s off with his ladies, so I’m lacking my usual spotter. I don’t suppose you could be enticed to fill in for him.”
“I don’t want to, but for you I’m willing to do it this once. Just don’t try to preach to me.”
“I’ll keep my attention on the weights.”
“That’s fine then.”
The two men went to the cargo hold where Jayne’s weight bench was set up. Book stripped off his shirt and lay down on the bench. Mal helped him adjust the weights and watched the Shepherd begin his rotations.
“You give Jayne the talk about the Special Hell before he went off with his ladies?”
“Jayne and I talk about many things, and while I wish he had other pastimes, he’s enjoying the company of consenting women. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Why padre, what would your sweet and fluffy Lord have to say?”
“I thought you didn’t want to hear me preach.”
“Fair enough.” He paused, watching Book, raise and lower the weights. “You’re pretty well built for a Shepherd.”
“And how many Shepherds have you watched... lift weights?”
“I just didn’t expect it. For a man of your... station in life, you hold up pretty well.”
“Thank you, Malcolm. I’ll take that as a compliment, and not a reflection on my age.”
“Station in life.”
“Exactly. Could you...?”
Mal helped him ease the weights back up onto the rack, and then watched as the Shepherd toweled himself off with the shirt. Mal's mouth suddenly went dry and he shook his head as if to clear his mind of the images that were suddenly parading through it.
“Shepherd, can a man go to the Special Hell just for thinking something he shouldn’t?”
“No.”
“Good.”