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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
A PC one-shot fluff. 14ish years post-BDM. Inara turns forty.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 1986 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
Title: Forty
Rating: So G
Characters: The family Reynolds
Pairings: M/I
Summary: A PC one-shot fluff. 14ish years post-BDM. Inara turns forty.
Disclaimer: Most of the characters (sans Bubba and Mei-Mei) aren't mine, but the situation is.
For newbies: New Leaf, Brother, Shadow, Mei-Mei, Mischief, Forty, Pirate Children, Mistletoe, Hell-Raising, Barriers, Tough, Echo
Author's Note: I'm writing so many PC fics right now, but none of them consistently. This is just a little bit of fluff to tide everyone over. :) Don't choke on the fluff.
Abram Derrial "Bubba" Reynolds, 11 Serra Alleyne "Mei-Mei" Reynolds, 6
***
She doesn’t like them making a big deal of this day, but in the nearly twelve years she’s been married to Malcolm Reynolds, he has never once honored her wishes on this subject. So, waking up alone on this morning, especially this morning, strikes her as very odd. Maybe she’s even a little disappointed. She stretches out a little, then grabs her robe off the back of Mal’s desk chair. Before she can decide what to do with this nice, quiet morning, it’s ripped away by the sound of the shuttle door opening and hushed whispering. “Aw, man,” Serra groans as she rounds the corner. “She’s awake.” “That’s not what we practiced,” Mal complains, amusement in his voice. “Oh, happy birthday, Mama,” her six-year-old grins brightly as the trio becomes fully visible. Abe has a neatly wrapped box in his hand. Mal balances a tray fill of warm white rice, grapes, and a teacup and pot “Happy birthday,” Abe echoes, following Serra to the bed, sitting on the edge while his sister scrambles up next to their mama to give her a birthday kiss. “What they said,” Mal teases, placing the tray in Inara’s lap and kissing her quickly. “Gross,” Serra whines. “What? You do it,” Mal teases, giving her a big, wet kiss on the cheek. “Well, thank you,” Inara smiles at her family. “Open your present!” Serra demands. “It’s from Serra and me,” Abe tells her, handing it over. “You two didn’t have to get me something.” “Yes, we did. This is a special birthday,” Serra insists. “It’s got a zero in it.” “It has a zero in it, Serra,” Abe corrects. “Unwrap it, Mama.” Inara slowly unwraps the present, the bed rocking from her daughter’s impatient bouncing. “Knock it off,” Abe says, hand on his sister’s shoulder. Serra calms a little, both children watching eagerly over her shoulder. The wrapping paper falls away to reveal a cardboard box. Curious, she removes the lid. She gasps a little at what is within, a pair of daisy-shaped, dangling earrings, cut from what look to be pearl, another pearl dripping from each flower. The earrings are nestled on a square of cotton. “Abram… Serra… you shouldn’t’ve… They’re beautiful…” “You like ‘em?” Serra asks earnestly. “I love them,” their mama beams, kissing each of them. “Hey, we forgot the orange juice,” Mal says. “I’ll get it,” Serra leaps off the bed. “Bubba, how ‘bout you go help her reach?” “Alright.” The two disappear. “They’re, uhh… they’re real. Beylix pearls. Fresh water, o’ course. They’re smuggler’s kids after all.” “Mal, you shouldn’t…” “Hey, don’t look at me. I bought the breakfast. I’m the cheap one. They bought the pretties themselves. Their own money. Saved up themselves for the past year, Abe saved allowance from chores and Mei-Mei did odd jobs. I hear Simon even paid her ten bucks not to move or scream when he gave her one of her ‘noc’s.” “He bribed her?” Mal chuckles. “Yeah. Maybe we should try it more often. Says somethin’ about how much they wanted to get somethin’ for ya, though. She let Simon stick a big damn needle in her. Anyway, they went shoppin’ when we were on Beylix, haggled the price down themselves an’ everythin’.” He looks very proud. “They shouldn’t have…” “They wanted to,” Mal asserts. “Their money, their prerogative. Put ‘em on.” Inara grins and slips the earrings in. “They’ve got good taste. They like to spoil you, Inara. We like to spoil you. Don’t get to do it so often…” “But I don’t need anything more than what we have, Mal…” “Don’t mean you don’t deserve more.” She drops the age-old argument, moving in to kiss him. “We’re comin’ in!” Serra announces from the doorway. “No kissin’!” “Mei-Mei…” Abe complains, rounding the corner with his baby sister in tow and glass of orange juice in hand. Serra shrugs and moves to leap onto the bed, but her father grabs her mid-air. “What do you think you’re doin’? You’re gonna knock over the tray.” Serra just giggles some more and crawls out of her daddy’s arms, snuggling in beside her mama. Her little fingers sneak onto the tray and pilfer a grape, which she pops quickly into her mouth. “Are you chewin’?” Mal questions, surprised. “Mebbe,” Serra mumbles over the partially chewed grape. “Serra!” he objects. “That’s Mama’s…” “I know… Dui bu qi, Mama.” “And how’d you manage that? I was lookin’ the whole time…” Mal continues, a bit of awe and pride laced in his voice. Serra grins and buries her face in her mama’s side. “Yes, Mal, let’s encourage the stealing,” Inara teases, fingers combing through Serra’s unruly curls. Mal thinks on this for a few moments, then turns to Serra. “Hey, only Captain-sanctioned nicking from now on, dong ma, baby-mine?” “Okay, Daddy.” The grin Serra passes at her father is sloppy and all so familiar, so like Mal’s. Abe rolls his eyes a little, perched cross-legged on the end of the bed, hair spiked in the faux-hawk he’s been preferring lately (much to Mal’s chagrin). Inara shares her breakfast with them over their objections, spending this rare morning, when all four of them can be so lazy and relaxed, throwing grapes at her son, watching Serra repeatedly give herself an orange juice moustache (which Mal repeatedly tries to tell her is just not as good as a milk one), and teaching Mal the proper way to hold a teacup. She remembers a time when she had decorum, and she doesn’t mourn its loss. She remembers a time when the jewels in her ears would only be worthy of the servants of House Madrassa; now, they’ve already become some of her most prized possessions, along with her wedding ring and her stacks of crafts presented by her children over the years. Eventually, after the plates have long been picked clean, Serra and Mal take the tray down the galley. “Come here, baby,” she beckons to Abe, who crawls up and flops on the pillows next to her. “Good birthday, Mama?” he asks, glancing at her sidelong, lounged on the pillows. “Yes,” she answers, poking at his ribs and earning a laugh. Inara pushes herself up on an elbow, her other hand fingering her new earrings. “Thank you. I love them.” “Mei-Mei helped, too,” Abe blushes. “Mei-Mei doesn’t have an allowance,” she points out, “So you paid for most of it.” Abe shrugs, staring up at the ceiling, hands on his belly. “She helped pick them out.” “Whose idea was it?” “Ours,” he grins, this time being facetious, turning his face to meet her eyes. “Brat,” she accuses, launching a full-on tickle assault. “Okay! Okay! Mercy! Mercy, Mama!” “I’ll save you, Bubba!” Serra, arrived from the kitchen, jumps into the fray, launching a counterattack at Inara’s ribs. “Mal! Help!” Inara calls over their children’s heads. “Well, no, that wouldn’t be fair,” Mal contemplates, scratching his chin. Inara shoots him a playful glare. There’s a note of resignation in his voice. “I’m just gonna have to side with the kids.” “Mal,” she yelps as he flops onto the bed and reaches for her. “Mal?” the comm crackles with Wash’s voice. “Mal?! What’s going on in there?” Lifting the Mei-Mei over his shoulder and crossing to the comm., he hits the button. “There a problem, Wash?” he says casually, as if Serra isn’t kicking over his shoulder. “Just need your opinion on some course options. Is everything okay down there?” “Shiny,” Mal grins, “Right, Mei-Mei?” “Just shiny, Uncle Wash,” Serra says, her voice muffled. “Speak for yourself!” calls Abe, still pinned under Inara. “We’re fine, Wash,” Inara assures him, catching her breath and letting Abe up. “Uh… okay. Could use some Captaining up here.” “Coming, Uncle Wash!” Serra says, slapping her daddy on the rump. “Let’s go Captain.” Mal grins over his shoulder at Inara and Abe. “Y’all two play nice. An’ you might wanna think about gettin’ dressed at some point today, darlin’.” “It’s her birthday. She doesn’t have to get dressed if she doesn’t want to,” Serra corrects, as if there’s nothing strange about Mal hauling her out of the shuttle upside down. “Thank you, Mei-Mei,” Inara calls as they leave. “I’ll go find Kacey and Lolly,” Abe says, rolling out of the bed. “Happy birthday, Mama.” The calm settles back over the shuttle in the wake of her rowdy family. She sighs and lifts her fingers to her earrings once more before starting to get dressed.
el fin
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Friday, February 2, 2007 9:02 PM
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