gonna_live | (no subject)

In the dream, she's a real heartbreaker.

She takes them, over and over again, up in the arena where it looks like the sky goes on forever. She finds them, one by one, and tries them out, leaving a trail of crumpled bodies in her wake, and she remembers smiling as she takes each one.

Mal's comes first, and it's like a club, broad and heavy. She swings the sword hard and fast, but she doesn't know how to handle it. She lets it drop. Mal doesn't move.

Next is River. It takes her a moment to pin River down, but when she plunges her hand in the sword comes easily. It's thin, spindly, with a deep red jewel inset in the hilt. The kind of speed she's looking for, but too flexible. Kaylee rejects it and walks on. River stays, immobile.

Simon's heart is no weapon at all. She steps over his body, disgusted, and moves on.

Susannah Dean and Rose Toren get rejected. Their weapons, she knows, aren't hers -- Rose's almost fits, is almost what she's looking for, but in the end she stamps her feet with frustration (how unbefitting for a duelist!) and lets it drop as well. Rose's eyes stare glassy at the endless blue sky.

She likes the screams the best, she thinks.

And it's finally the vampire thing that she comes to take, at the last, to fight her enemy, to kill (she's come to set fire to your glamour). The vampire thing that looks like her. Kaylee sets out her palm and pulls, and feels her heart pull out of its body -- and keeps going. Like squeezing blood from a stone.

She pulls out her own heart and watches it beat. It looks like a jewel.

The vampire thing pulls her hair aside and sinks its teeth deep in her neck.

Kaylee starts to laugh as she falls. Her heart turns to sand in her hands. "Stop laughing," says a voice, "you're going to hell." She's laughing and laughing and she can't breathe but it's just so funny.

Kaylee's eyes snap open.

In the dim light that bleeds into their room from the corridor she can see the way out.

She carefully picks her way past Simon and slips out, leaving the door cracked.

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Another small sigh. "Certainly don't hurt."

"And that I love you?"

"That neither."

Beat.

"You tryin' to tell me you want to go back to sleep?"

"...No," he says "Just that I'm here if you need me."

"I know." Soft.

"...how about you?"

"What about me?"

She shifts a little more to see him better, and opens her eyes. "You okay?"

"I'm all right," he says, and turns his hand to twine their fingers together.

"...Though," rueful, "my feet are starting to get cold -- would you mind sharing a little of that blanket?"

"Oh," Kaylee says, curling up tighter and shifting so she only has the edge of the blanket, "so I'm the only one askin' big questions right about now?"

The rest of the blanket spills to the floor.

Simon gratefully draws his bare feet under the chenille.

"Well, it was your turn," he points out. Very seriously.

"Oh, whatever." She's smiling. "You never ask big questions. Ever."

"I do sometimes," he protests.

"Oh, yeah, well, when was the last time?"

"..."

Simon chews his lower lip for a moment, thinking.

"You can't expect me to come up with the last time at this hour of the night," he says, a little weakly.

"Thought so," she says, triumphantly, and draws the blanket up to her chin.

He gives a rueful smile, and leans down to drop a kiss on her head.

"Next time," he promises, "it'll be my turn."

"Mm." She tightens her grip on his hand, and closes her eyes again.

He keeps his hand in hers, and rubs her back with his other hand, and lets the quiet settle around them again; the familiar quiet of ship's night, with the familiar tiny sounds of the ship breathing.

Wake up with a crick in my neck, Kaylee thinks.

Doesn't stop her hand from slackening.

Simon watches as her breathing slows and deepens, as her free hand uncurls against the fabric of the couch.

And doesn't notice when he starts to drift to sleep himself.