Notes: I usually go looking for Mal/Jayne when I look at Firefly fic, but since this was Rebecca, I thought I'd read at least the first one, and see if I wanted to read more. I finished the entire series that night, and was sad it was over. Then I read it again. And today, I decided to rec it, and re-read it again...just looking for warnings and such I might have forgotten...or something like that, yeah, that's it....
As usual with Rebecca, it's not an easy journey, but it works for me. The main pairing in the series may be Mal and Simon, but pretty much all the characters are represented. And they all fit. If it weren't for the sex and stuff, this could be an episode - or several episodes, really. It's all about how everyone fits into the crew, the way they fit together is like a jigsaw, according to River, and Mal and Simon are missing pieces that the other can fill. The whole crew is like that, really, they just fit. And Rebecca makes it work, and makes it enjoyable to read at the same time.
Excerpt: From Letting Go
"Relax, Doc," a low voice says out of the darkness. "I ain't gonna hurt you."
He does not respond, although he recognizes the speaker. He does not trust his voice to be steady.
The speaker sighs, and Simon feels a warm hand come to rest on his back, between his shoulderblades. He cannot stop himself from jumping at the touch, and if he could, he would move away. Surreptitious tugging on the bonds at his wrists, however, reveal that he's not going anywhere.
"I do know how to tie knots," the voice says, seeing him pull at the bonds. "Those ain't gonna give until I untie them. Or cut them loose, depending."
Simon swallows, uncomfortably aware of the hand on his back. "Then please untie them," he says as calmly as he can.
A soft chuckle answers him. "I don't think so."
He fights down the anger coursing through him, convincing his body to relax as best he can. It isn't much, and any success he might have had is abruptly countered when the hand on his back shifts and a strong thumb digs into his muscles, probing at the tension there. Simon freezes, every muscle in his body locking up automatically.
"Yeh soo, Doc..." The voice grumbles absently. "How the hell do you manage to walk around like this?"
"I manage just fine, thank you," Simon says tightly. He can't remember the last time he let someone touch him--someone not River.
"No, you don't," the voice says softly. "If you did, we wouldn't be here right now."
There are two hands on Simon's back now, working with steady pressure on his muscles. "Your sister said something to me the other day," the voice muses. "She told me 'He doesn't know how'. Now, it took me a while to realize what she was referrin' to, but I think I figured it out."
In spite of himself, the quiet, thoughtful voice and the strong hands are coaxing tension out of him. Simon feels himself relaxing and much as he wants to, he can't stop it. "Figured what out?"
"You just can't let go, can you?"
Simon's breath catches in his throat and he has to make a conscious effort to exhale. "You're psychotic," he says, a little more unsteadily than he'd like. "You think--" He falls silent, unable to come up with the words he needs.
"I think you're about as tight as a hair trigger and about as ready to go off."
"And this is your solution." Simon doesn't bother keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. "To--what, exactly? Tie me up in the middle of the night so you can try and *relax* me?"
"Not gonna try, Doc," the soft voice says, much closer to his ear than he'd expected. "I don't try things--I do 'em."
"I hate to be the one to explain this, but if you wanted me to relax, this is probably about as far away as you could get from actually succeeding."
Two thumbs dig into his back, just below his shoulderblades. Simon groans involuntarily, feeling pain and pleasure mingled as some of the tension--somehow--dissipates.