Firefly

Friday Vignettes

April 18th, 2003 | April 25th, 2003


Once, Twice, Thrice

Her mind wandering as she worked on Serenity, Kaylee wondered what Inara tasted like.

She'd kissed her first boy at five, but that didn't really count and she couldn't remember what it'd been like.

The first boy who'd counted had been when she was thirteen and just starting to blossom as an engineer, or so her daddy told her. On her thirteen birthday, he'd given her an old junker to fix up.

Four months later, she'd traded a kiss for a spare part she'd been needin'. Pol wasn't a bad first kiss, though he was clumsy and tasted faintly of oil. And it was worth it to see her transport up and running.

Still, it left a bad taste in her mouth, trading kisses for parts. Kissing was important enough that it should be done on its own account.

So she kissed her first girl at fifteen and that didn't have anything to do with engines at all. Mala was soft and tasted sweet, like fresh strawberries.

All these kisses in her memory...

And she just couldn't figure how 'Nara might taste.

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High Wire Act

All decent folk know right from wrong.

But anyone who wants to stay alive knows that you can't always do right. And anyone who did wrong all the time wasn't to be trusted.

You had to walk a balance a'tween the two.

Kaylee, now she managed with rare skill. She was cheerful and sweet as the 'verse was wide, but knew what was needed to be done to save her skin.

The doctor and the Shepherd were tougher to note. The two of 'em appearing clean at first glance, and both hiding violence somethin' fierce.

Zoe... well, there wasn't another soul that understood him near as well as she did. She knew that right and wrong couldn't keep a body alive when guns were firing and she knew to take her pleasure where she could. They'd been lucky in finding Wash, who could fly like no one he'd seen and make Zoe smile like she almost didn't remember the worst times.

And then there was Inara, who was very much a lady and very much a whore. And she didn't see the wrong in either. Fine, strong woman who sold herself. And for all her talk of respectability, he'd seen how some of her 'clients' looked at her and there wasn't nothing right or clean about it.

Right and wrong were clear and solid. And sometimes they could be slippery and deadly.

And too often, they were all that and more, all at the same time.

And walking that balance became more like trying to decide which way you needed to fall to stay breathing.

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