This is my response to prompt #28 for the Mal/Simon ficathon - "Why do you hit me when you know you want to kiss me?"

Title: Combat Training
Characters: Mal/Simon with Zoe & Jayne
Rating: R (for violence & nudity)
Word Count: 1993
Disclaimer: Firefly & the characters within are the creation of Joss Whedon. I'm merely having a good time with them
A/N: Special thanks to my most-excellent beta, history_gurl for her comments and support and also to woodsong_1978 for running this challenge over at the_pretty_fits. One more note, I took quite a different path on this than the prompt would suggest, diabetics beware.



Zoe sat on the catwalk in the cargo bay overlooking the action. “Why do you hit me when you really want to kiss me?” she muttered to herself and smiled. That was it.

Jayne came down the catwalk and stopped beside her. “What’s so funny?”

“Just imagining what Wash would say if he could see this.”

“Something like ‘Ooh, blood’ and then run away screaming like a girl?”

Zoe gestured in the direction of the circling pair. “Oh, that happened by accident. Mal apologized profusely for it.”

“Ain’t never apologized to me. And he’s hit me plenty of times while sparrin’.”

Zoe gave him a hint of a grin. “You want me to tell him he offended you?”

“Well, I just don’t appreciate the... double standard. Why the ruttin’ hell don’t anybody hit anybody?”

“They’ve been doing that the last ten minutes. Just circling, advance and retreat. Nothing else.”

“Simon been hopping like an excited bunny that whole time?”

“It’s his style.”

“Well, somebody’s gonna shoot him if he’s not careful, just to get him to stop moving.”

Zoe chuckled. Jayne sat beside her, legs swinging over the edge of the catwalk.

“How come Mal’s not givin’ him weapons training?”

“He asked me to do that.”

Jayne looked at her in disbelief. “Don’t nobody know more about weapons on this boat than me. ‘Cept maybe Crazy.”

“He doesn’t need to know how to handle Vera. Just the basics.”

“Don’t know why Mal didn’t ask me.”

“Maybe he’s afraid you’d hurt Simon.”

“Now that’s just plum crazy. Most of the times Simon’s got hit is because Mal done hit him.”

“Well, he’s not hitting him right now.”

“Care to liven things up a bit?”

Zoe smiled, then both said simultaneously, “I got Mal.”

They settled it by using the age-old practice from Earth-that-Was – rock, paper, scissors. Jayne selected “rock” and Zoe “paper”.

“Paper covers rock, I win.”

“That wasn’t a rock. It was a grenade.”

“Can’t change the rules, Jayne. Mal’s mine.”

“What’s the ante?”

“Dishes for a week.”

“Deal.”

Down on the floor, Mal watched Simon on the approach, closing in, dancing away. Simon was light on his toes. Amazing he hadn’t worn out by now. He wondered if Simon knew that the elbow to his nose was the last contact they had.

Simon knew.

“Isn’t this supposed to be combat training?” Simon breathed, immediately before Jayne’s voice boomed out from above.

“Is this sparring practice or a dancing lesson?”

“C’mon, sir, you’re supposed to be training him. Not flirtin’ with him.”

Simon landed flat on his feet at that, glancing up at Mal in surprise, just in time to see the fist coming quickly toward his face. He swerved, but not fast enough and the blow glanced off his chin.

“There you go, sir.”

“Hey Doc, you gonna just take that?”

Simon gave Mal a couple of quick jabs in the chest, then watched as the other man backed away. Simon hopped back on his toes, dancing in place, trying to fall back into standard boxing defense.

Mal hooked his leg under Simon’s effectively tripping him and landing Simon hard on his ass.

“Simon, don’t take that sitting down.” Zoe said, effectively channeling Wash once again.

Mal looked up at her. “Who are you rooting for?”

“Does this mean I get Mal?”

“No.”

Simon struggled to his feet, rubbing a hand along his ass. Mal watched, no longer focused on any coming attacks. Just watched the movement of Simon’s right hand as it gently moved against the fabric of Simon’s trousers.

That was an injury that may need a little tender lov-.

When Simon’s left hand clipped his jaw, Mal’s attention went back to the practice ahead. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was an opportunity. For contact. Without consequences. Other than the occasional split lip or bloody nose, of course. Truth be told, he knew Simon could handle himself in a fight, had been on the receiving end of one of those punches. If Simon hitting him was the only way he could get Simon to touch him in a non-clinical way, then he’d sign up for combat practice every day of the week.

Mal threw a flurry of punches in Simon’s direction, some missed, some connected. Mal knew he was holding back. Any other man would be flat on his back right now. And while he wanted Simon flat on his back - more than anything - unconscious wasn’t attractive to him.

Jayne’s voice called down from the catwalk. “Hey, Doc, I heard Mal here givin’ your sister some sex advice t’other night. Said he would be right happy to...”

Zoe slapped a hand over Jayne’s mouth, cutting him off.

Simon glared at Mal, eyes narrowing.

Mal raised his hands slightly. “Simon, I...”

Simon ran at Mal with enough force to send him flying. Mal landed hard on his side, banging his shoulder on the floor.
Simon turned and started to walk away, but stopped when he caught part of Jayne and Zoe’s conversation.

“You can’t just make things like that up just to get the advantage.”

“Combat tactics, woman. Use everything in your power to get ahead. Doc’s always been a bit nutty when it comes to Crazy.”

“Double or nothing? You and me, here, tomorrow.”

“Deal.”

Simon watched Zoe and Jayne leave the cargo bay, then turned back to Mal. Mal was standing, rubbing his arm.

“Jayne’s an ass. I shouldn’t have listened. Are you hurt?”

“Ain’t nothin’.”

“Let me check you out, just in case.”

“Nah, Doc. I’ll be fine. Go tend to your own self.”

Simon nodded and left the cargo bay, heading toward the infirmary.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thought. He’d consented to this crazy idea for combat practice because he thought he’d be able to touch Mal. Not just in there, on the floor, but after. For months he’d been patching up bullet wounds, sewing up knife wounds, reattaching body parts, becoming intimate in a clinical way with every inch of that man’s body. He knew every scar, every line. Hell, he even knew what Mal sounded like when he slept, having kept vigil so many times. It was the only opportunity that Mal would allow him to be close.

He hadn’t had the opportunity in a long time. Not since before Inara left. The jobs they’d been taking lately were more legitimate which minimized the chances of any of the crew being wounded. There was still the odd accident that kept him from being completely bored. But mostly he was – completely bored. Which led to him sometimes seeing things that might not have been there. Little looks that the Captain gave him. Mal coming into the infirmary to see if he needed supplies. Mal descending the ladder to Simon’s pod “looking for River”. Mal asking Simon to accompany them on a job.

Simon surveyed his bruises in the infirmary mirror, some of them were going to be very interesting colors in the morning. He opened one of the cabinets and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. He took one, then slipped the bottle into his pocket and left the infirmary.

---------------

Naked, Mal surveyed his bruises in the mirror. He’d had worse, but he was still going to look like a rainbow in the morning. It hurt to move.

There was a soft knock, then the sound of the hatch opening. “Captain, it’s Simon.” Simon started down the ladder. “I know you said... Oh!”

Mal stood with his arms crossed in front of his chest, staring at Simon. He didn’t bother to cover up. “Ain’t nothin’ you haven’t seen before, Doc. You here for a reason?”

“Painkillers. Yes, I brought painkillers.”

“Right nice of you,” Mal said, smiling at Simon’s nervousness. Simon fumbled through his pockets for the bottle of pills, a gesture that bordered both on comical and endearing.

“It would really... be better... if you could... possibly... put some clothes on.”

“Simon.”

“What?” asked Simon, popping open the cap on the painkillers.

Mal reached for his hands, covering them, taking the bottle of pills from Simon. He shook one out into his hand. Simon’s eyes followed the movement and then squeezed closed. Mal laughed. “It’s my bunk.”

“What does that have to do with the cost of grapes on Persephone?”

“I can be naked in my bunk.”

“Of course, Captain. I’ll just be...”

The words slipped out before he could take them back. “So could you, for that matter.”

Simon’s mouth dropped open and all the most articulate man on the boat could formulate was “Huh?”

“All those times in the infirmary, stitching up those leg wounds. Those chest wounds.” Mal traced his fingers over a scar to illustrate. “Seeing me. I always thought you should be working on me naked. In order to reciprocate.”

“That would hardly make for a sterile environment,” Simon couldn’t believe how prim he sounded. He took a deep breath and met Mal’s eyes. “We’re not in the infirmary now.”

Mal smiled, “Top three percent, you figured that all out for yourself.”

Mal turned slightly and Simon winced at seeing the bruises on his left arm. “Did I do that?”

“Actually, the floor did that. Surprisingly, it’s not as soft as it looks.”

“I found that out on my own.”

“Oh, right. Your...” Mal made a vague gesture in the direction of Simon’s ass. “Is it bad?”

“Just a mild contusion. Not even visible. You got it a lot worse.”

“Less padding.”

“Are you saying my ass is fat?”

“Comparatively,” Mal bit back a smile.

“Just because I don’t go off ship and shoot people doesn’t mean I don’t work out.” Simon unfastened his pants and slipped them off along with his shorts. He turned around and faced away from Mal.

Hands, not his own, moved to his hips, and Mal’s voice whispered low in his ear. “I stand corrected.”

Simon turned his head slightly to face Mal. “Are you ever...?”

Mal captured the rest of the question by brushing his lips gently over Simon’s. Simon turned himself more fully into Mal’s embrace, running his hands through Mal’s hair as he pulled Mal closer, deepening the kiss.

Mal wrapped his arms around Simon, moving his hands down the length of Simon’s back.

Simon lightly nipped at Mal’s neck, moving his hands down Mal’s shoulders and biceps just as Mal was...

Both men drew a deep pained breath.

“Oh, Mal, sorry.” “Simon, I didn’t mean...”

They stopped, smiled at each other and kissed again.

“Maybe I should...”

“Why don’t you just...?”

“But, you’re hurt.”

“So are you. Don’t see me running out of here.”

Another kiss.

“It’s your bunk.”

“With a nice soft bed big enough for two.”

“Wait, you’ve got a bigger bed and a softer mattress?”

“With all the hits I take out there, I need gentle.”

“Gentle?” Simon raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a smile.

Mal wrapped his arms around Simon, kissing him while manipulating him down to the bed. “Mmm. Lots of gentle.”

“I can do gentle.”

Mal smiled down at him and kissed him tenderly.

---------------

The next day, Simon joined Mal on the catwalk. He wrapped his arms around Mal from behind and looked over Mal’s shoulder. “What are we watching?”

Mal pointed toward Jayne and Zoe, weaving about in combat on the floor.

“Wanna make it interesting?” Mal asked.

Simon whispered a request in Mal’s ear, which made Mal’s eyes widen. “And I get Zoe,” he added.

Mal looked disappointed. “Aw, come on. Jayne’s been holding back.”

“Yeah. Look at Zoe go.”

“This is beyond sad. Look at him.”

“Wonder what’s going through his head – ‘I’m getting my ass kicked by a girl’?”

“Maybe something more along the lines of ‘Why do you hit me when you really want to kiss me?’”

Simon looked at him and smiled. “Nobody would actually think that.”

Mal smiled back and kissed him. “You’re probably right.”