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Firefly

By: Adrian Leverkuhn



Paul Carter looked across the driveways separating his - well, his parent's - house from Brooke MacDonald's house. He looked across a gulf as wide as his imagination, a chasm that had divided him from his impossible-to-endure one and only very-first-true-love. He had fallen in love with Brooke MacDonald the very first time he had laid eyes on her; which was, unfortunately, in third grade. Paul Carter could not remember one single day in grade school, junior high, or high school that he hadn't thought of her. Hell, lusted for her. He had tried every trick in the book, too, in order to get Brooke MacDonald to pay even the slightest bit of attention to him. And he had failed. He was sure it had been a conspiracy. Had to be!

He had graduated from high school without ever knowing the pleasure of lying in Brooke MacDonald's arms, of making love to her, of just loving her in the most complete way. The thought of here would always remain within a walled-off fantasy land; not exactly a tortured dreamscape, but a pain in the ass nonetheless.

Paul Carter had gone off to college, all the way across the country to California. It was a million miles away from New England in every way. The way kids did things in the Bay Area was spontaneous, original, and often outrageous. His Yankee world view had collided with new-age-hippidom, and the results had been predictable. He had shed his alter-identity in a heartbeat - well, more like a semester - and had met the first of many California Girls. Somewhere along the way, all thought of Brooke MacDonald had simply - vanished.

Paul had remained in California for medical school, and he quickly lost his attachment to undergraduate forays into the search for the ultimate sexual experience, or the ultimate drunkathon, or the ultimate weekend at Mammoth on the slopes (or the hot tub). Medical school had - so far - been the toughest experience of his life, until one afternoon in the closing days of his forth year when the telephone rang. His kid sister Melody was on the phone in hysterics. Between sobs and gulps for air he heard her squeezing out 'plane crash' and 'mom and dad are gone'.

He had - in a state of suspended dysanimation - called the student affairs office and advised them of events, made a reservation to take the red-eye across the country to Boston, and gone to the airport as night fell. He sat in an aisle seat and thought of what life might have in store for his now suddenly diminished family, how his role would change in his sisters' eyes now that their parents were gone. He felt the loss of his father with an acute ache that penetrated his soul, leaving an empty autumn feeling of leaden skies and barren trees in its hollow wake. He sipped a bumpy Coke and thought of his mother wafting around the kitchen in heels and apron, the perfect housewife, brownies in the oven out in time for the little boy and the covey of girls to devour before dinner. From thousands of miles away, he could smell the kitchen in his waking dream, smell his mother walking through the shadow of a heartbeat, hear the oven door open, the click of her heels on the slate floor, the early twilight of New England winters, dinner on the table, help with homework only a whisper away. He cried then for the first time in a long, long time.

As he walked off the plane and up the Jetway his little sister Melody hove into view, her face a wreck of red puffy tear-soaked eyes. He looked around for his other sister, Edith, and he saw her standing next to - ohmygosh - Brooke MacDonald. He made his way through the jumble of passenger greetings and plane changes to his sisters and flew into their open arms. They latched on to Paul Carter with all of the fear and uncertainty the events of yesterday could impart, their tears combined in spontaneous grief more poignant than any eulogy. 

Paul looked across to Brooke who nodded her unspoken sympathy, squeezed his arm for a show of support. Her face was somehow the same - but different. Less attractive than he remembered, but the unmistakable pangs of the familiar. Something in the eyes, he thought, troubled, sad, dealing with her own grief in her own way, but still lovely. He felt connected to her in a way he couldn't understand, let alone express, by memory and fantasy. She said she had driven the girls in on the Mass Pike, that she and her mother were going to be helping out at home until Paul could get things settled. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek she offered, and they headed for the parking garage. 

Thirty miles westbound out the Pike and they were at the house of a thousand dreams. Winter had held on longer than usual; the maples and oaks were just now filling out in the pale sun-dappled greens of spring. The house looked as it always had; white clapboard siding, black trim on the shutters and gutters, the front door blazing red. Almost an acre of trees, a muddy-rocky creek running across the back of the property. Heather MacDonald, Brooke's mother, stood in front of her house as Brooke pulled the old Mercury Sable up the long gravel drive, and came up quickly to hug Paul as he got out of the car. She held on a long time; he could feel her crying softly, gently on his chest, feel the warmth of her tears as they bled through his shirt. 

Heather MacDonald had been her mother's closest friend for as long as Paul could remember; they had gone to the same high school; though they were not in the same graduating class. While Paul's dad had not been that close to Rod MacDonald, from what he knew, the two families had on many occasions spent time together at the Cape, sailed on dad's boat together, even spent Christmas eve's together. And as such, here the dreams of a young man had been born. For Paul Carter, the intertwined images of his mother and Heather MacDonald, of Brooke and his journeyman's eternal love for her smile and her sinfully blue eyes, all emotions seemed to collide in memories of homework and football and cookies and a million sounds and smells that were the echos of growing up in a happy house.

As Paul Carter held Heather MacDonald in his arms he felt buffeted by gales of conflict; he was overwhelmed by the sudden loss of his parents, by the rush of unbroken memories that were flooding in, and by the sudden love he felt for Heather MacDonald, for the un-thanked role she had played in his life as a child. His tears came in sudden release; he held on to Heather just as surely as if he was holding onto the memories of his mother and father.

As Paul's grip on his feelings returned, he held onto Heather for a moment longer, rubbed her shoulders with affection, and pushed himself away to look at her face. She stood perhaps a head shorter than he and looked up at him with concern and a warmth born of holding him in her lap when he had been an very small boy. She cupped her hand on his cheek, made a comment about him being all grown up, and turning, she put her arm around him and walked with him toward his parent's house.

As he walked into the house wave after wave of memories flooded in, persistent echoes of a young boy's footsteps running down the hall and up the stairs crashed into his consciousness, perhaps chased by a sister, a mother's concerned scolding following in close pursuit. He sat in a breakfast room chair, took in his sisters as they busied themselves in the kitchen, there taking comfort in the opium of habit. 

Food. All he could remember about funerals and families and friends was food. 

Comfort food. Cakes. Roasts. Cookies.

All the better to embalm the living, smother their grief in nice round pie-shaped comfort.

He smiled and walked down to his parent's room. Their smells still hung in the air; his father's Old Spice, his mother's Chanel No 5, all drifted in the parallel dimensions of the living and the dead. He walked to their closet; here the smells were more intense, more personal. They were in the room with him, consoling him. He closed his eyes and could hear their voices, the tinkling of her jewelry as she dressed up for a dinner party. He looked out the window of their bedroom, out onto the view they shared with one another for oh so many years. He wondered what they had thought about as they looked out on the simple pastoral elegance of New England, on their shared hopes and dreams.

He was suddenly consumed with the fear they must have felt in their final moments, as the earth rushed up at them. Were they content with what they had accomplished, whom they had brought into this world. Would their lives have passed before their eyes in grief or terror, or in a loving embrace, with respect for one another and the moment of their passing. Aware he would never know, he let the thought die, afraid of where it might take him.

He was aware of another presence in the room, and turned to see Heather MacDonald. She shut the door to his parent's bedroom and walked over to him, walked into his arms. She looked up at him with open eyes, took his face in her hands and kissed him. Not the kiss of sympathy and condolence he expected; she kissed him with a sudden passion that caught him off guard. She took off his tie, his coat, and laid him down on his parent's bed. She took off his shoes, then her own, and lay next to him, her chest to his back, and she held him, stroked his head gently through her soft fingers.

The connection he felt to his memories and his childhood was instantaneous and direct, and was just as suddenly overwhelming. He felt exhausted and confused. He felt the world spinning out of control. He felt her arms around his body, and he moved to hold her arms in his as he felt the world drop off into sleep.

Paul woke up an hour or so later, alone in his parent's bed, the noonday sun streaming in. He was being assaulted with the smells of honey-baked ham and brownies, with maybe a whiff of mac & cheese thrown in for good measure. He got up and took a leak in the familiar but off-limits bathroom, looked at his parent's toiletries spread out on the counter-top in mild disarray. 'So, this is the way it'll be...everywhere I go, everyone I see...will remind me of them.' He ran his father's old sterling silver brush through his hair, tried to sort through his thoughts as he contemplated whether or not to dare use the Listerene by the sink to kill off the dragon-breath his nap had brought on.

Just as suddenly he thought of Heather MacDonald. Of her kiss. He felt somewhat at odds with himself...what was going on with her? These thoughts walked with him down the stairs, down by the whispering memories on the walls and in the very air of the house. He made his way through the combat zone the kitchen had turned into until he found Brooke, and he motioned her outside. 

He told her he was sorry for not asking how she was when he had first arrived at Logan, that he had noticed she seemed sad in a way he had not expected. She seemed nervous and hesitant, unsure of Paul in some unsteady way; presently she seemed to shift gears, and she became talkative. She told Paul that her father had been acting a little middle-aged-crazy for some time, and had suddenly - a few months ago - left his office one afternoon and flown to Cancun, and that his very young and very attractive secretary had gone with him. When he had returned from Mexico, he had announced to one and all that he was going to divorce his wife of 27 years, that he had found love again, connected to his youth again, had felt old and stale and decaying in his life with Heather.

Brooke MacDonald had been crushed; this was very evident to Paul. He knew a little of her recent past. Her life had been, it seemed, like a slow motion train wreck. She had wanted to follow in her parent's footsteps. Desperately so, it turned out, as she had married her first 'real love' right out of college. A more noble man there was, to be sure, for Brooke's husband of two years had walked out on her when he found that she was incapable of having children.

The news about Rod MacDonald was information overload to Paul, who expressed surprise at her father's fall from grace. He did his best to console her, but her response to him was as it always had been - flat, uninterested. Not wanting to be reminded of those feelings for her, and the central dilemma they posed, he walked back into the house with her. He ate some lunch, and talked with his sisters for the rest of the afternoon. They were interrupted frequently by lawyers from the airline calling to see if there was anything they could do; he could hear their entreaties between the lines to settle out of court. Paul said to them he wasn't in the frame of mind necessary to talk to or with them, and they of course understood and offered the most sincere condolences. And would call again in an hour.

There were no bodies to deal with; the impact had been so severe, the fire so devastating, that only DNA testing would be able to determine whose remains were whose. This thought totally disgusted Paul, who, despite his training, could not place his parents death - and the circumstances of the death - into the compartment that allowed the detachment necessary to perform his duties as a physician. One newscaster at the scene of the impact likened the remains he had seen pulled from the impact crater to fried Spam. That had made a quite an impression on Paul. He simply could never understand man's capacity to inflict pain on their fellow man.

Paul and Melody and Edith had talked about what they knew of their parent's wishes for final disposition, about where to find their father's will, about what they might do with the house and all of the million little odds and ends that represented the collected memories of a family. 

As this confusing day faded into evening, Paul walked upstairs to his room. He showered, changed clothes. He sat at his childhood table and chair, sat looking across at the MacDonald house. He watched as Heather and Brooke walked over from their house to his parent's, felt a wave of confusion as he thought of Heather's kiss. Was she just expressing her sorrow, had he misjudged her intent? He had never thought of Heather MacDonald as being anyone other than Brooke's mother; but now that he had aged a little himself he looked at her as she walked across the infinite gulf that separated the two houses and he was surprised at what he saw.

Side-by-side in the evening glow, Brooke and Heather MacDonald looked more like sisters. The passage of time had been brutal for Brooke, while fair winds had played at Heather's back. They both had her Scots red hair, pale skin, and the lightly freckled nose that had always captivated him. Heather had longer, more shapely legs, a more ample bosom, a daring cleavage, and dressed with care, preserving her rather elegant form with classic attire. Brook , Paul thought as he looked her, now looked more like a Generican mall rat in her jeans and Reeboks. He could see Brooke's shoulders hunched from the burdens she carried, the sorrow she exuded howled along side her like a warning. Heather too had her concerns, Paul was sure, but she kept them at bey.

They all sat together for dinner amidst the glow of candlelight, talked of ancient memories at the Cape, of growing up with each other. Melody and Edith were fairly subdued, though Brooke tried to lighten the tone of the evening by talking about Christmas memories. Heather MacDonald seemed to hold the daughters in check, kept them from falling into their grief, by getting them to talk about their feelings. She watched her own daughter flail about without grace or compassion, concerned, Heather felt, about her own comfort and sense of propriety by dwelling on so many personal memories.

In the smooth amber glow of the room, Paul looked at Brooke and Heather, at past and future, and tried to judge the propriety of his own thoughts. He'd found it hard to concentrate during dinner, hard to balance the competing interests of the living and the dead.

As the candles burned down, Heather asked the girls to clean off the table. She sat with Paul in the study, the small alcove off of the living room with it's three walls of many-paned windows. She lit a small oil lamp and flipped off the overhead light, and they sat in the warm flickering glow. She sat in quiet composure, asked Paul how he was doing after this very convulsive day. 

Paul wasn't sure how to respond. He asked her about this morning, about her kiss, and she replied that it had looked as though he needed to rest, and she had wanted to ease his mind. He told her that it had done anything but put him at ease, that he had thought of little else this afternoon.

Heather MacDonald smiled. "No small feat, then, wouldn't you say?" she said.

Paul nodded at her parry. "Well then, dear lady, I shall defer to your wisdom in all matters," he said to her, with almost a smile on his face.

"That might not be too wise, Paul," she countered, with an equally demur smile. They heard the activity diminish in the kitchen, and the girls came in. Edith and Melody sat on little Shaker stools in the glowing room, looking at Heather MacDonald as if she was a life preserver. Brooke excused herself, saying she wanted to get to bed early; Heather said she was going to sit up with Paul for a bit longer. Edith stayed a while longer, but soon grew tired. Melody, who had always doted on Paul, sat beside him, holding onto his hand for a while, but was soon yawning and looking watery-eyed. She, too, went upstairs and to bed, leaving Paul and Heather in the little glowing cocoon.

She asked Paul about medical school, about his coming internship, what he wanted to specialize in. They made small talk for a while, looking out the window into the gathering darkness. The oil lamp cast faceted reflections from the window panes, light which danced on the walls and the faces in the room. Presently, Heather MacDonald sat up and looked off into the back yard.

"Look! A firefly!" she exclaimed. "It's awfully early in the summer for them to grace us with their light. C'mon! Let's go!" Heather walked to the back door and let herself out; Paul followed a few steps behind.. They walked out into the yard, down the gentle slope toward the creek. She asked him to stop and stand quietly. She walked on a few more yards and stopped.

She began to hum. It was an old Shaker tune from summer days, from harvest nights. She began to sing slowly in a gently melodious tone. 

"Firefly, firefly, won't you come see me,

"Share your gentle light with me..."

It was a simple tune ripe with beauty, the words almost an incantation...

"Share your gentle light with me..." A single firefly appeared in the enchanted air, wafting through pregnant flows of expectation. It hovered before Heather MacDonald's face, dancing to the variations in her voice, in the spell she was weaving in the summer evening air. The firefly's light winked on and faded out in chemical lust. Heather MacDonald raised her hands out to her side. Her singing became louder, but only barely so.

Soon another firefly appeared, then another, and another. As Heather MacDonald continued singing, dozens of fireflies appeared, coming out of the woods; falling from the heavens. Within a minute there were perhaps a hundred fireflies drifting on the currents of her voice in hypnotic grace. As Paul stood transfixed on the miracle before him he was amazed to see Heather's face glowing in the light of the drifting cloud that surrounded her. She waved her hands slowly, creating currents in the air around her body, and the glowing mist wavered in the air, shifted in the ebb and flow of her movements. With a hand, she motioned for Paul to join her, and he tip-toed to her side. Her serenade continued in gentle symbiotic rhythm; the cloud shifted again and surrounded Paul.

He took her hand in his, and said as gently as he dared, "This is so lovely. You are so lovely." He felt her hand tighten in his, saw her face as it turned towards his. He gently kissed her forehead. He could sense her face move, her lips seeking his. Their lips met and danced in the rhythm of the night; the fireflies moved closer to the two to share in the moment, or perhaps to guide the flow of time.


Firefly 01: As Long As You're Mine



If you know Firefly, this happened after War Stories.





Firefly: Kaylee is Hired



The scene: In the engine room. Captain Mal has just dismissed the mechanic for bringing yet another bar wench on board the Serenity without authorization. Kaylee talks a good game, but the captain is angry. Impressed but needing more than just promises, he puts Kaylee to the test.

Captain: I cannot remember how many times I've told that good-for-nothing gear-head to stop bringing every saucy trollop he comes across onto my ship. But you will be the last. You sound like you know your way around a motor. But I'm going to need to do a proper inspection, I mean, interview before I give you the job. Strip.

Kaylee: But, I...

Captain: Strip or get off my ship.

Kaylee: But I'm already naked.

The Captain stares agog at her stunning perfection: the voluptuous curves of her perfect body, her lush chestnut locks, her gorgeous face, the twin symphonies of joy that are her breasts, her soft belly and slender waist, her long, shapely legs, the perfectly shaved mons and the delicate slit of her pussy.

Captain: Ah, so you are. Impressive. Turn around.

Kaylee turns in place to reveal the plump, smooth and inviting twin globes of her spectacular ass. 

Captain: I ain't gonna' lie to you: I like what I see. But we're in the special freight business...

Kaylee: You mean we're smugglers.

Captain: Discrete couriers, please. We do not use the "s" word.

Kaylee: Sorry, Captain.

Captain: I'm prepared to overlook it, just this once. Please mind your tongue.

Kaylee: Yes, Captain.

Captain: As I was saying, sometimes we need to conceal our cargo in discrete ways. Suppose, just for instance, we had a shipment of these special spinward curved, black, twenty three centimeter, ribbed compression coils. 

The captain holds up a shiny, black, ribbed silicone dildo with a slight curve to it.

Captain: How many of these do you think you could conceal on your person?

Kaylee: On my...? Oh, I get it. Umm... two? Maybe three?

Captain: That's good. I like that. I think you'll do just fine. Face the engine, spread your legs, and bend over. I'm going to inspect your, umm..., grav thrust.

Kaylee: Yes, Captain.

Kaylee does as she's told and leans over the engine compartment, thrusting her butt up to meet the Captain's exploring fingers.

Two, then three of the Captain's fingers force their way into Kaylee's juicy hole. She groans in appreciation.

Captain: Damn, but you're well-greased. Is this all you, or did that knucklehead fill you up before he left?

Kaylee: He was a two-pump chump, Captain.

Captain: Heh, yeah. I reckon I knew that already. Mmm... salty.

Captain: Well, your main thruster appears to be in order. Now I'm going to check your exhaust port.

With his fingers pressed against Kaylee's g-spot, Captain Mal leans in and drags his tongue across her puckered starfish.

Kaylee: Unhh...

Captain: Very nice.

Removing the fingers from her pussy, Captain Mal rubs their tips against Kaylee's asshole, which flexes appreciatively in response.

Captain: Let's see what one does...

The first digit sinks in easily enough, eliciting a soft murmur from Kaylee's slightly parted mouth. A second follows, and Mal pumps them in and out a few times while Kaylee groans. 

Captain: This looks promising. Now two... Yes, that's fine. Very fine.

Three and then four fingers slip in easily enough, needing only the slightest slathering of spit to finish the job.

Having sufficiently lubricated her "exhaust port," the Captain presses the tip of the "compression coil" against Kaylee's dilated asshole.

Kaylee: Aaaahhh... yessss...

Captain: Mmm.. hmm... you like that...

Kaylee: Yes, Captain. Ohhh... please fuck my assssss...

The Captain presses the dildo deeper, deeper, slowly filling her up, until the wide flange of its base presses firmly against her butt, fully inserted.

Captain: There. That just about does it. Keep that there and stand up.

Slowly, a bit awkwardly, Kaylee reaches a hand behind her to hold the dildo in place as she straightens up. The Captain grabs her shoulders and turns her so she's facing him now.

Captain: That's good. That's real good.

Getting on his knees, Mal puts his face between Kaylee's thighs, pressing his mouth against the smooth flesh of Kaylee's hairless cunt, sliding his tongue between her moist labia. After a quick lick he leans back to take another long drink with his eyes of the exquisite beauty of her divinely-sculpted lady bits. Like the two halves of a peach split down the middle, Kaylee's pussy is a work of art: the inviting slit parting just slightly to reveal two inner lips, slightly darker and more wrinkled, peeking out all shiny and pink, like candy just begging to be licked, which is exactly what the Captain has in mind. But before he can shake himself from his reverie...

Kaylee's free hand goes to the back of the Captain's head, forcing his face into her crotch as she grinds her dripping cunt against his mouth. With surprising strength and dexterity her right arm fucks the dildo in and out of her tight butthole as her left holds Mal's head against her pussy as she grinds and moans. 

Kaylee: Unnhhh... yes... Eat me...

The Captain's muffled mumbles are ignored as she continues to fuck his face.

Kaylee: Yes! Just like that! Don't stop! Keep doing thaaaaaaatttt....

The Captain briefly wonders what it is that he shoudn't stop doing and then Kaylee goes supernova all over the his befuddled but happy face.

The Captain licks and drinks her delicious juices as they gush into his mouth.

Leaning back, cheeks and chin shiny and dripping, shirt soaked, the Captain speaks.

Captain: Mighty fine. Here's another, um..., compression coil. Go ahead and make this one disappear, too.

Kaylee: Yessir, Captain.

Kaylee grabs the second dildo and brings it to her mouth, laving her tongue around its head as she swivels her hips and grinds the first dildo harder up her ass. After a quick look around, she backs her ass, and the first dildo, against the engine cowl, firmly planting it up her butt. Then she brings the wet tip of the second dildo to the dripping lips of her beautiful pussy and slowly presses it in.

Groaning a bit, Kaylee works the second dildo in slowly, chirping and murmuring, centimeter by centimeter, as it fills her to capacity.

Captain: That is very impressive. You are very talented.

Kaylee (somewhat breathless): Thank you, Captain.

With the second dildo completely buried and her eyes screwed shut in concentration, Kaylee grinds the dildo in her ass against the engine compartment and groans. Then, holding her ass still, she begins to fuck her cunt with the other dildo like a woman possessed.

The Captain, amazed and aroused by Kaylee's performance, takes his soaked shirt off and drops his drawers, revealing a throbbing and erect cock slightly bigger and a great deal harder than the dildos Kaylee is currently working in and out of her holes. 

Noticing what the captain has just revealed, her eyes widen and Kaylee slows the movement of her hips to a salacious grind. She licks her lips.

Kaylee: What'cha gonna do with that there hunk of meat, Captain?

Captain: Well, Kaylee. This is some very special cargo that I need you to hide for me. Which of your special compartments do you think would most suit it?

Kaylee: Oh Captain, cargo that special can't be kept in any one compart... (an unanticipated thrill runs through her and the puddle on the floor between her legs widens noticeably) ...ment. You better let me have a closer look.

Kaylee kneels down in front of the Captain, carefully wedging the dildo buried in her pussy between her thighs, and pressing the base of the dildo in her ass against her now upturned heels, holding it in place as well. Now, with two free hands she goes to work on the Captain's hard cock.

Placing her hands on each of the Captain's thighs, Kaylee leans in and wraps her lips around the head of his great dick. The taste of his precum delights her and she presses forward, eating more and more of his cock. In, out, in, she gobbles up Mal's prick with steady and practiced technique. Deeper and deeper until the final centimeters are buried in her throat, Kaylee looks up at the Captain with a twinkle in her eye. 

And then she begins to fuck his dick into her face, in and out like a well-oiled piston in a high-compression cylinder, relentlessly face-fucking Mal's cock inside her mouth, inside her throat, sending the Captain into orbit. Withstanding sensations as intense as this are beyond the will of any man, but just as Mal believes he is about to blast off, Kaylee pulls her beautiful and talented lips off his cock and speaks.

Kaylee (huskily): In my ass. I need this in my ass now.

The Captain, now following Kaylee's orders, moves around behind the kneeling Kaylee and pulls the big dildo out of her ass. Briefly looking for somewhere to put the shiny, black cock, his search is interrupted as Kaylee grabs it out of his hand, stands it up on the floor in front of her, and presses her face against it, swallowing it in one gulp and thrusting her butt into the air in front of Mal.

Captain (amazed and appreciative): I do believe you're the perfect candidate for this job.

Kaylee's smirk is just barely detectable with her lips so tightly wrapped around the dildo in her mouth, but her eyes sparkle with joy at the Captain's words. And then they shut tight again as the Captain's cock jams itself unceremoniously into her shiny and stretched out butthole. 

As if praying to some unholy mecca, Kaylee presses her forearms to the engine room floor and fucks her face against the dildo in her mouth. In sympathy to the violent thrusts of the Captain's cock up her ass, she rocks back and forth and gushes around the dildo in her pussy, which is repeatedly shoved back inside of her by the slap of the Captain's giant balls. Orgasm after orgasm wracks her body with spasms of joy. Her thighs and the Captain's, as well as the engine room floor, are soaked in her copious juices. The harder and more savagely the Captain rams her greedy butthole, the harder and more wetly she comes, splashing all over the place.

Captain: I think I'm about to blow...

Ripping her face off the dildo, Kaylee spins around, dildos flying to either side, and grabs Mal's ready-to-pop cock, bringing it to her face and jacking it furiously.

Kaylee: In my mouth, shoot it in my...

But before she can complete her final command the Captain's dick begins shooting rope after rope of come all over her face and into her open mouth. Her beautiful and flushed face is striped liberally with man juice before she can wrap her lips around the ejaculating head, sucking the come straight from his balls, drinking and jacking, enjoying her well-earned reward.

Dazed but satisfied, the Captain leans back on his haunches and watches with loving admiration and gratitude as Kaylee happily licks up the various deposits of bodily juices like a cat covered in cream giving herself a tongue bath.

Captain: You're hired. When can you start?

Kaylee: Really!? Oh, thank you, Captain!

Throwing herself at the Captain, Kaylee locks her lips against his and gives him an extra-wet jism, pussy juice, and sweat-soaked kiss. The Captain is caught off guard and finds himself locked in the sloppiest of tongue-duels before he can react. Just as he begins to realize how much of his and her mingled juices are being transferred from her face to his, a rugged looking fellow in a ridiculous hat pokes his head into the engine room.

Jayne: Hey Captain! Have you seen Vera? I... (seeing the Captain's face pressed against Kaylee's) Cap'n! No! Never on the mouth!

--scene close



Firefly: The Mechanics of Serenity



A spaceship in flight is never truly quiet. No matter how well maintained there is always unrest. The rumble of the engines, the creaking of the hull, the chatter of the crew all combine to provide a never-ending background sound. Even a well a new, well-maintained boat is never truly peaceful. The naming therefore, of a firefly class ship, Serenity, which was neither new nor particularly well-maintained, was ironic.

The inherent problem was that even good parts break. In these situations good mechanics fix em'. But when a component's been mended 5 or 6 times it doesn't need fixin'; or even necessarily replacin'. It needs love.

For once, Kaywinnet Lee Frye did not have the energy, for once she wished she had stayed on the farm. The mechanic had worked for nearly twenty-four hours straight, fixing one thing after another after another. It seemed as soon as she had one problem resolved two more cropped up. 

And so there she was, on her back, deep beneath the rotating heart of the boat she adored, stripping a burnt out power coupling that, essentially, ensured the ship's life support wouldn't fail. This was usually the task of a master engineer, not a farmer's daughter working with ancient tools. And yet, whilst the rest of the crew slept, the young redhead worked diligently. However, even the talented, vivacious mechanic had her limits.

It was hot in the engine room and the space beneath the rotor was cramped and grimy. While wearing her jumpsuit protected her from the worst of Serenity's excretions, it only added to the intense heat. Pulling the front open only helped a little, whilst exposing her chest to the moving components beneath the engine. Eventually she had given up her desperate squirming, electing to allow the droplets to do their worst to her already scruffy appearance. Even now grease dropped mercilessly onto her face and hair, forcing the mechanic to mop at her eyes with the back of a hand. This combined with the continual drone of the ship's engine were the factors that had finally frayed Kaylee's calm, admittedly after weeks in deep space. It was this current frustration that distracted her from hearing an unexpected visitor.

Feeling a bare foot touch her ankle Kaylee flinched instinctively. Sitting up; the silhouette of an almost ghostly figure shocked the redhead, causing her to thump her forehead on the fuel injection manifold.

"Ahhhh!" Kaylee yelped in shock, rubbing quickly at her eyes once more.

The young woman squinted up at the mysterious figure. Recognizing the unexpected arrival the young woman instantly dropped her guard, scowling:

"River!! Don't sneak up on me like that!!" The mechanic gasped exasperatedly, using the engine to pull herself from the hard metal floor; "You scared the bejeezus out of me!!"

River stared down at the mechanic blankly, eyes wide and apparently lacking in empathy. While the brunette engineer seemed at home in the setting, the ballerina-esque girl was incongruous with the warm, earthy environment of the engine room. Standing tensed, practically on tip toe, River held herself as if the ground were scolding her feet. While Kaylee righted gracelessly, the girl before her personified poise and balance. For the young mechanic this alien quality was somewhat unnerving...

Finally upright, the Kaylee dusted herself off, bending to brush at the knees of her overalls; stretching in place before looking up at her uninvited guest once more. Kaylee winced, eyes widening; the lithe brunette was practically naked.

"Uhh, River... Why are you, dressed... like that?" the mechanic asked carefully in her southern drawl, afraid to look the girl in the eye whilst doubly afraid of looking anywhere less appropriate.

River blinked, considering the question deeply; like she was pondering the nature of the universe and not evaluating her choice in wardrobe.

The younger Tam was dressed in revealing bed wear; her slim frame only concealed by a blue negligée that bordered on translucent. The colour only added to her apparent eeriness; so contrasting with the rusty reds around her. The garment was light and airy, and so short it barely reached her mid thigh, the hem of the fabric just covering her pert behind. 

"I like to be comfortable when they sleep, no one else can see me...." River responded monosyllabically, watching as Kaylee blushed, eyes still averted.

"Yeh, well I can see... may be time to start wearing a bra honey."

Kaylee whistled, attempting not to stare at the round swell of River's bust, the freshly developed orbs miraculously defying gravity beneath the fine material in much the same way the rest of the girl did; like she was floating on air. 

River tilted her head, basic recognition appearing on her porcelain features, hearing the words but barely comprehending their meaning. Kaylee eyed the girl apprehensively; doubting anything she said had gotten through. The mechanic tried a different tactic:

"Sooo.... What brings you down here? Needin' somethin'??"

"No," the girl responded flatly, stepping lightly past the curious redhead, eying her suspiciously:

"You need me."

The mechanic blinked, confusion crinkling her nose adorably: "River, what are you talkin' bout?" 

The brunette stepped closer still, allowing Kaylee time to rub her greasy digits with a cloth before stopping the mechanic's frantic movements, resting her hands on the woman's wrists.

"I can fix you," River stated softly, catching Kaylee's eyes steadily for the first time since she'd entered.

"River, I don't need no 'fixin'," Kaylee responded patiently: "no need to fret."

River shook her head vigorously, continuing slowly: "No, can't tighten a bolt with a broken spanner. You need... The brunette tailed off, her mouth continuing to move, though now there was no sound. She took a breath and continued: "You need screwin'." 

"Screwin'?" Kaylee responded awkwardly, "Right..." 

Pulling away from the strange brunette, the mechanic eyed her carefully. Sure she got the girl's point; the redhead had been a little of her game lately. Kaylee needed some leave time for sure, definitely to let off some steam. But beyond that the mechanic had no idea what her friend was getting at. Electing just to indulge River's little episode; Kaylee started clearing the mess she'd been making, grabbing the various tools she had dropped haphazardly around the engine bay and hurriedly returning them to there rightful places.

"You need sunshine," River finally responded triumphantly, following the redhead as she scurried between components. "Sweetie, meanin' what?" Kaylee replied, barely looking up as she continued to fuss, River still struggling to pontificate:

"I can fix you, the brunette continued more urgently: "I can fix the mechanic so she can fix Serenity!"

Kaylee turned again, studying the brunette again as she replied defensively: 

"I can fix anythin' honey, don't need any 'prentice. Sides, I'm just a little overworked is all. Everythin's just.. shiny."

River stamped her foot, clearly annoyed, a shadow of the spoilt child she had once been returning.

"Show you," she said impatiently. 

Striding forward River pinned the mechanic roughly to the turbine, forcing the brunette to drop the tools she was holding with a deafening clang that echoed through the open metal space.

Kaylee balked, surprised by the friend's sudden invasion. Struggling in the small girl's tight embrace, she tried to talk the unstable girl down:

"River, let me go now sweetie, this ain't a game.. MMmmghh Unnnghhh!" 

The mechanic was immediately muffled as the brunette captured her face, holding her still while kissing the redhead deeply, pouting lips smothering her own.

Kaylee's mouth opened in shock and she fell backwards against the massive engine. Yelping in pain, her lips parted and River's tongue slipped inside, caressing the roof of her mouth. Kaylee panicked; tasting the tang of crisp apples as soft lips smeared against her own.

The mechanic squirmed as the kiss deepened, River leaning in to press their young bodies together; Kaylee's fuller curves meeting River's lithe form, her sleek, wavy dark hair drifting past Kaylee's nose. 

For the young mechanic the kiss was bruising; River had forced her against hard metal and the redhead was made to twist awkwardly against the rotor to accommodate them both. Meanwhile the aggressive young girl had practically mounted her, actually pressing the air from her lungs while mashing their mouths together. 

But then River suddenly shifted, seemingly calming down; as if the the girl had read her mind; slipping a bare thigh between Kaylee's legs, her knee created a greater, grinding pressure against her crotch while the demanding hand in her greasy locks loosened. The lithe brunette then tipped her face to the left, before letting her tongue glide instead of thrust, finally allowing the mechanic some much needed air. 

That was when Kaylee realized the tide was changing; that for all her misgivings, for all the unsaid rules they were breaking, she was actually enjoying herself. 

The older girl panted against the invading mouth, finally using her hands to push them apart: 

"River!?" Kaylee gasped, before taking another panting breath: What's goin' on!?"

"You're scared," River said gently. "Don't be, I've got you."

"That's why I'm freakin' out!" Kaylee yelped back exasperatedly:

"Why did you do that?"

"I liked it too, River said, smiling as her hand ran through Kaylee's hair, cupping her quvering cheek.

Kaylee blushed, still open-mouthed, her chin ducking down as she waved River's hand away: 

"No," she said, "You've got some explain'n to do!"

River laughed. "You're frustrated, I know," she said simply, grasping the mechanic's arm once more and pulling it down against her hip.

Kaylee blinked; the girl's porcelain skin was so smooth, and cool to the touch.

"I can make you whole." River said patiently, sliding her own hands through into Kaylee's open jumpsuit: fingers gliding up and down the sides of her t-shirt clad torso.

Kaylee was frozen in place, eyes widening in shock as she was slowly fondled, glued in position even as River stroked her sides; before stepping back once more. Something in the girl's smile, for the redhead it was almost hypnotic. 

"River, I don't... I'm not gay."

The brunette cocked her head, eyes becoming suspicious. When she spoke it was in a southern accent reminiscent of the redhead's:

"Kaylee liked the pretties at her school, even when she started playing with the boys. Wanted them so badly, One day she even tried one on at the old barn. She was interrupted. Daddy was so mad..."

Kaylee's eyes widened fearfully: "How do'ya even know that?" the mechanic spluttered, her face turning even redder:

"That, that was just a some fun, I didn't, I weren't, I mean I'm not..."

River reached between them as kaylee mumbled, her fingers deftly pulling at her jumpsuit's zipper, pulling the teeth apart till her fingers reached the mechanic's quivering navel.

"I know you," The brunette replied carelessly, tugging the top half of Kaylee's overall's over her shoulders as the redhead stared back at the girl nervously: "I know what you need..." 

Kaylee gulped, her forearms finally freed from the sleeves of her suit, the top half now dangling from her waist. Beneath the mechanic wore a pink cotton shirt that was too short for her frame, barely reaching her midriff. The garment was also open necked, supposedly too keep the mechanic cool. River couldn't help but notice her friend's glistening cleavage.

Taking the redhead's rough hands, the brunette pulled them around her back, knowing Kaylee loved to fidget; planting them on her hips.

Momentarily this distracted the mechanic; as her fingers and palms tangled in blue silk. Kaylee loved frilly things, so unlike her own clothes. Gently thumbing the hem, Kaylee stroked another material, incidentally brushing the lace underneath; River's darker blue knickers. Barely realizing what she was doing, the older girl investigated, curving her fingers round a perfect cheek. 

Kaylee bit her tongue, suddenly enthralled: River's skin was wonderful, smooth and soft, her digits gliding effortlessly over it. The mechanic was stunned; why did holding this girl's butt feel so good?

River smiled, sensing she had managed to gain her friend's interest. Spurred on by this development, the young woman continued to tease, stepping back once more.

Kaylee watched as the girl began to lift the hem of her negligee.

"River, No! Ohhh-no please don't..." Kaylee stammered weakly, leaning back as the lithe brunette shimmied the light garment over her head, revealing the creamy skin of her torso.

"River.." Kaylee moaned, trying to keep her voice low and calm so as not to agitate the inexplicable teen: "This ain't right, please..."

The brunette tugged the fabric over her head, only then lowering her arm to her sides once more. Standing in the dim glow of the room, River was now naked, save for her shorts; lacy blue finery she had undoubtedly 'borrowed' from Inara. Now her breasts were exposed to Kaylee's eyes; the redhead struggled to breath.

"Why shouldn't I be free?" River said dangerously, stepping toward the mechanic while allowing her negligee to drop to the ground beside her. Kaylee shrunk backward, trying to pull her eyes away.

"Cos I'm young?" River asked. Kaylee shook her head wordlessly, taking another step backward only to clang against the engine block once more:

"No River, your ah, a b-big girl now. Such a big girl..." The redhead gulped nervously.

"Cos I'm crazy?" River asked curiously.

"No!" Kaylee replied vehemently, reaching out toward River before reconsidering. "I know'ya not..." Kaylee hesitated, "It's just not proper."

"That sounds like Simon," River said bitterly, taking charge once more. Hands fumbling for Kaylee's, River found and then lifted them to her own boobs; squeezing the mechanic's palms against her pert chest. 
The psychic observed the mystified face so close to her own, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. The redhead was sandwiched between herself and the engine, clearly in shock, practically shaking. Yet undeniably aroused. River cooed, eyelids fluttering as her only friend's fingers tightened on her chest, biting her lower lip and leaning into the contact.

"Awww... I really shouldn't..." Kaylee muttered, weighing the firm globes in her hands: "I don't wanna go to special hell..."

Then River kissed her again. This time both mouths parted willingly as they plucked at one another. Kaylee breathed the girl in; Her mind was a whirl. She tried to bring Simon back to the forefront, to recapture his face and the way she thought his body might feel against her own. She couldn't. Instead all she could feel was River, her slim dancer's body tight against her quivering limbs.

Kaylee gasped as firm nipples stabbed her palms; the full weight of the brunette's chest still resting in her grasp. Distracted, the redhead barely noticed as River's own hands pass briefly over her t-shirt, lingering, teasing, before trailing lightly across her stomach.

Kaylee moaned, just a little, as River's hands moved over her belly and down, fingers slipping beneath the hem of her recently exposed panties. The brunette played there briefly, still teasing, her fingers running delicately down through curly hair before nestling over her lips, barely touching, just enough to further arouse the shocked mechanic. 

The redhead suppressed the urge to panic; this was too much, too soon. It was only a few months ago that she'd played jacks with this same weird girl! She couldn't let River do this. It was soo wrong. But it felt soo good! The brunette was right after all: the mechanic desperately needed to be screwed.

River pulled away, just enough to look the redhead in the eyes, staring into her soul. Soon these rolled back as the brunette pushed a finger gently into her friend's wetness, producing a pleasant "Ungggh," from the terrified mechanic.

Kaylee could only just manage to stay upright as the girl began to finger-fuck her nethers: starting off with a slow, steady pace, then gradually increasing the speed and depth of her thrusts. River took to stimulation like she did everything else; as if she were built for pleasure. Stroking her helpless friend, the brunette curved her fingers, her thumb rubbing over the aroused tip of Kaylee's clit, drawing whimpering cries of pleasure with each touch.

Leaning in, River pressed her body against Kaylee's, resting her lips against the other girl's ear, whispering breathily to the enraptured mechanic:

"Don't be afraid. Shhhh... Its goin' to be okay, I'll fix you, make the lights twinkle."

Kaylee closed her eyes, giving into River's melodious tone, her incredible touch. Her pussy was pulsing; steaming hot; so grateful to have someone else inside.

This time Kaylee kissed River passionately, surprising herself and her overly eager young friend: "mmmhhh," the brunette cooed as their tongues rolled together earnestly. Meanwhile another thrust; all the way into the mechanic, three fingers up to the knuckle. The redhead gasped into her companion's mouth, producing a fresh flow of fluid that coated the girl's agile hand. 

Kaylee pressed her thighs together, whimpering in pleasure. River smirked, an eyebrow raised:

"Your so sticky." 

Kaylee's response was strangled by the other girl's increasing stimulation; swirling fingers in a drooling slot, scissoring motions in her channel even as the girl's wrist tangled in Kaylee's jumpsuit.

River grew more insistent, biting her lip in concentration as she gathered up a good coating of Kaylee lubricant before, slipping out and down, reaching the tender pucker of the mechanic's asshole.

Kaylee shuddered in shock as the girl made contact, shaking her head insistently at the presumptuous intruder. That hole was off-limits. River ignored her, touching the redhead's little pink starfish. The muscle contracted and the redhead twitched, before loosening up gradually, accidentally letting the girl slip the tip of a digit inside. 

The mechanic felt her backdoor clutch the invading finger. Kaylee blinked, bewildered, struggling with this sudden adjustment. Taking advantage, River then jabbed a whole finger up her butt. 

"UUunngh, you little, Mmmmppphh..." Kaylee cried out, shivering and grabbing frantically at the manifold just behind her head. She'd never let anyone touch her there; it had always seemed so gross. With River she wasn't sure if she could maintain that position, or look anyone else in the eye again. To keep Kaylee guessing the brunette proceeded to slide a thumb into her pussy at the same time. 

Pistoning her finger and thumb in and out of Kaylee, River alternated; one in, then the other, occasionally pinching at the thin wall between her two channels. Each time she pushed into her ass the mechanic tensed up and gave a little "Ohh" or "Unngh," biting her lip. With only the minimal lubricant from her pussy, it hurt Kaylee a little each time River thrust into her bottom. Yet the redhead suspected River knew she was enjoying it. 

Kaylee had always wanted to be proper, a member of the elite of Alliance society. Maybe that was why she struggled with her sexual appetite; she'd always liked it kind of rough; just a little pain to enhance the pleasure. Somehow River was giving the repressed farm girl a rude awakening; Maybe she liked the things she had no right to.

On her next stroke the brunette plunged in harder, as deep as she could with her long supple fingers. Kaylee squeaked as the brunette held her there, vibrating inside while she groaned contentedly. Sliding down the rotor, knees almost buckling, her tool belt clanged against its warm steel; damn, this was good. The mechanic gulped down air, struggling with the new sensations coursing through her. 




Firefly: The Mechanics of Serenity



As River twirled her thumb against Kaylee's pussy the redhead gave a delicious whimper, confused by the new pleasure she had found there. Recognising her friend's over stimulation; the brunette distracted her once more, acting quickly. Levering herself upward, River climbed the engine barefoot. Braced by Kaylee's startled embrace, she lifted her pert breasts towards the redhead's unexpecting mouth. Agape, Kaylee could only watch as a firm boob was pressed against her shocked mouth. Close to gagging Kaylee recovered as another shockwave of pleasure rippled through her, instinctually closing her lips around a stiff nipple as River continued to finger both her openings. Kaylee's big green eyes widened. In this bizarre situation finding something to suckle on was oddly comforting: River's boob tasted like a strawberry.

If her nipples were tender, the young girl barely showed it, her brow creased as she concentrated on the mechanic beneath her, only seeming to squirm and moan in time with each suck. Kaylee couldn't tell how long they stayed like this, locked in this awkward, delicious embrace.

Suddenly River, hopped backward, landing lightly in place. The redhead moaned, close to collapse; her body now hot and desperate from the brunette's wonderful stimulation. Attempting to recover her breath, Kaylee brushed her loose wavy hair from where is had spilled across her face. 

Looking up at the naked brunette she saw that predatory smile light up that eerily attractive face. River seemed almost possessed, her dark eyes glinting hungrily, sleek waves resting over bare shoulders. The other girl moved quickly, tugging the tool belt she had lifted from the mechanic into place. Buckling the loose leather around her porcelain hip, she let the heavy strap dangle, before staring back at the astounded redhead once more. It was too big for the slim girl, too rough for the delicate creature. But in that moment Kaylee realized and achieved a new fantasy:

"T-sai boo shr- River that's hot."

The brunette shrugged, grinning mischeviously: "Now I can fix you."

Strutting forward River gripped the redhead's previously rolled down overalls, now hanging low and wet around Kaylee's hip. 

"River you don't, I'm all greasy!"

"Shhh..." the brunette responded impatiently, tugging the mechanics jumpsuit over her ample behind, rolling it down her slick legs before becoming tangled in her work boots. Following the jumpsuit down her legs, River dropped to her knees, her pale limbs colliding with the cold steel floor.

Shuffling forward River reached for her friend's brightly coloured panties, looking up at Kaylee as she stood; frozen in stunned awe. Sitting up the brunette cradled her lower body, an arm curving round the redhead's butt as she leant in.

Tracking slowly, sensuously down her abdomen, River teased the mechanic mercilessly with her tongue; producing needy little cries from Kaylee as she made tantalizing circles on her belly and in her navel. As she moved down to her hips, River freed Kaylee of the tight, girly panties she'd been wearing, letting them drop around her outstretched knees. 

"I-I.." Kaylee whimpered guiltily at the sight of the beautiful brunette between her thighs, staring intently at her pussy. River looked up, smiling dangerously as her fingers gripped the redhead's behind.

Without further warning the brunette quickly applied her tongue to moist flesh. Kaylee responded with a most unladylike grunt, ending in a heartfelt Chinese swear word:

"Ohh.. Shee-niou! Aww!" 

River licked her some more but not too intensely, just light, leisurely teasing that drove Kaylee into a lust-crazed frenzy. Falling backward against the rotor once more, the redhead exhaled in frustrated agony as River played with her pussy. Beginning to squirm, Kaylee shuddered in place, making adorable little whimpering noises as her nethers were lapped intently.

Soon Kaylee was out of her mind with need and anticipation for more. She felt like a different person now. Gone was the cocky, self assured young mechanic of Serenity; replaced by the frantic farm girl she had always been; ready for passion and pleasure. 

Making pathetic, mewling sounds the redhead could no longer hold herself back, begging for more as River's tongue worked mercilessly over her tender parts. Trembling, Kaylee writhed hard against the engine, her fingers pulling on the cables and pipes that made the rotor spin, her face flushed as her head jerked from side to side. 

"Oh gawd," Kaylee whimpered, " T-sai boo shr! Please! ... come on ... make me cum! Yaw driving me crazy!"

River kept at it determinedly, tightening her grip on the redhead's round butt cheeks. The mechanics buns slid in the girl's hands; the grease trickling down her back from the engine making her skin slippery in the brunettes palms as Kaylee wriggled about in response to her licking. She just couldn't help it; the redhead's pussy was absolutely on fire, the inner tissues vivid pink and glistening with juice, lips swollen and protruding. River licked deep into her molten center while reaching up to maul her full breasts with her right hand. Feeling fingers grasp her hard boob, Kaylee gasped as they began twisting, pinching; She definitely liked it rough. 

Kaylee responded with a delicious squeal of pain induced pleasure as River tugged her little nub with increasing vigor. At the same time, her tongue worked steadily inside her.

The mechanic couldn't help herself; it had been sooo long. Grabbing the brunette's slick hair and holding her tightly against her pussy, she cried out in need, just hoping she couldn't be heard over the continuous rumble of the ship's engine. Hips bucking urgently, she wiped her wet cunt back and forth against River's soft lips. "Oh shiny! ... shiny... Shiny!" she grunted. The brunette kept eating her, improving her magic with each passing minute, licking over every inch of needy flesh, even as her own mouth was coated in cream.

Kaylee squealed again as River's tongue hit a particularly sensitive spot. "No-o-o-o-o-o ..." she cried, gasping and squirming frantically, " Jen mei NAI-shing duh FWO-tzoo! How are you doin' this to me? Yaw still a virgin!"

"Mmmmmm," came the only reply, River instead licking and sucking more urgently. Kaylee's hips shuddered pathetically, beginning to gyrate into rhythm as she began to moan uncontrollably.

Raising the mechanic's bottom up a bit River craned her neck, lifting a slick thigh over her shoulder, reaching under the redhead to let her tongue swipe lightly over the pink circle of her asshole. Kaylee's whole body tensed and she groaned deeply at the contact.

"Go tsao de!" she cried out in Mandarin; No one had ever been this earnest in giving her pleasure. Kaylee squirmed, practically hanging from the engine she loved as River sucked at her starfish:

"Unnnghh ... Jen mei NAI-shing duh FWO-tzoo," she moaned incoherently, "what are you doin' to me?!"

River's reply was a wet slurp, mouth deeply embedded in the redhead's back hole. Taking another slow, wet lick at her asshole, the brunette tickled her friend's sphincter whilst she buried her nose in her friend's snatch. Kaylee simply couldn't take anymore torment.

Suddenly Kaylee's nerves system sent pleasure signals throughout her tired system. The mechanic's whole body tensed, before she swore desperately once more:

"Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo!" exploded from Kaylee's lips as she started to shimmy and shake. River looked up, surprised by the extraordinary expletive only to have her face mouth enveloped in warm cream. Kaylee couldn't stop herself, could only shudder in paralyzing bliss as River pressed her lips against her entrance; sucking loudly while lapping up her juices, the mechanic's orgasmic groans filling the room. 

A low, guttural noise accompanied Kaylee's final climax and the redhead could only watch, horrified, as a rush of her fluid seep out into River's waiting mouth. The girl then finally stopped, gracefully rising up to her full height, grinning at the redhead naughtily before she finally swallowed:

"You taste like starlight."

Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut, before staring up at the ceiling dark ceiling. What had she just done? 

Looking back at the girl she eyed her nervously, before finally croaking a question: "Are-are you okay honey?"

River nodded back. Kaylee surveyed the bedraggled girl, hair and face still covered in the mechanic's cream. Reaching for a rag she carefully wiped the brunette's face, still reeling from what she had just let happen. 

"River, I 'preciate yaw, mechanical skills, but please ya can't tell anyone bout this, 'specially not your brother. I-I could get in real trouble with the others."

River nodded: "Just between us, sweeties!"

"Right," Kaylee smiled weakly, too exhausted to even question this response.

Turning back to the engine she exhaled shakily, leaning against its comforting curved metal surface; attempting to a return to her senses. Somehow she was still very aware of the warmth of her after glow, the pulse of her nether matching the slow beat of the engine. In-spite of her questionable actions Kaylee felt better than she had in ages; serene even.

"River, how... did you know?" Kaylee asked. thumping her forehead against the metal before her; wondering if the whole event were some sort of heat-induced sexual fantasy.

Ignoring the question, the brunette stared at the swell of Kaylee's now fully exposed behind, tantalizingly raised by the arch of the mechanic's quivering back. Eyes narrowing, River cocked her head thoughtfully. Selecting a large wrench from her tool belt she slunk quietly up behind the blissfully unaware redhead.

"It's not tha-. Oh!" Kaylee was cut-off midsentence, big eyes becoming round as planets. On the second thrust she jolted in place, her mouth becoming a thin line as she was penetrated like never before.

"I aim to misbehave," River stated simply. 



Firefly: The Trigger



The characters of River, Kaylee and all the rest of the crew of the ship "Serenity" are not mine. They belong to the amazing Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. This story falls under what is known as "FemSlash". The pairing is Kaylee/River. If you are offended by F/F sex then don't read the story.

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After the bar fight in the BDM (Big Damn Movie. i.e. "Serenity"), Mal tells Simon "You had a gorram time bomb living with us! Who we gonna find in there when she wakes up? The girl? Or the weapon?" Well, what if the doctors at the lab had inserted more than one trigger in River, each designed to set off a different program? And if one was an empathy program that could, as always happens, pop into existence at the wrong time. Or maybe at exactly the right time.

****************************

A spaceship in flight is never completely quiet. No matter how well maintained, no matter how spic and span, there's always noise. The rumble of the engines, the creaking of the hull, the murmur of the crew, all combine to provide a back ground noise all the time. And when a ship is as pieced together with spit and bailing wire like Serenity is, well, it's never even close to quiet.

Still, Kaylee wanted a bit more noise tonight. She had worked for nearly twenty four hours straight fixing one thing after another. It seemed as soon as she had one problem resolved two more cropped up. But now she was done, she was worn out and she was too keyed up to go to sleep. She needed to relax a little bit. She blushed, although she was in the room by herself. She had plucked her batter powered "Friend" from its hiding place and smuggled it into her bunk. It was fully charged and she admitted to herself that in some ways it was probably a lot easier to use than what she really craved, Simon Tam. That wasn't the problem. The problem was River.

River was a dear heart and Kaylee adored her. She defended her friend at every opportunity and not just because of the crush she had on River's brother, a crush that she knew was at least somewhat returned. She just couldn't figure out what was keeping him from responding to her increasing blatant overtures. Anyway, that wasn't what she needed to be considering right now.

Kaylee wasn't a prude. After all, the first time the Cap'n had ever seen her she was on her back having sex with the mechanic she ended up replacing. But the Cap'n hadn't meant anything to her, 'least wise not then anyway, and not like THAT at any time. But the closer she felt to someone the more embarrassed she was about showing that side of herself. Maybe that was why she couldn't come right out and tell Simon just how she felt. And because River was the best friend she had ever had she just couldn't let her know what she was planning on doing in her bunk tonight. So to drown out the sound of her "friend" as well as any noise she might make personally, she had set up a recorder to play some music she had bought the last time they were planet side.

(An hour later)

River Tam stretched out in her bed. As usual she was sleeping in a loose pull-over shirt and a pair of panties. The same basic outfit that Kaylee slept in, although with her usual insight into what was going on around her she had noticed the other girl was not wearing panties tonight. That meant Kaylee had her battery powered lover with her.

River sighed. She loved Kaylee, the best friend she had ever had, and she loved her brother Simon, who had sacrificed so much to take her from that lab the Alliance called an "Academy", but sometimes she just wanted to knock their heads together. They loved each other but Kaylee was too shy and Simon too dumb to tell each other. The pair of them should be in bed together, not laying awake thinking of each other and having to rely on themselves to relieve the tension.

The music was nice, but River's ears could pick up the buzzing sound of Kaylee's vibrator as well as the muffled moans the other girl was trying to suppress without a great deal of success. The image of what Kaylee was doing imprinted itself on River's mind and she held that picture fast even as her own hand snaked under her top and between her legs.

Then it happened. A completely innocuous song started and River froze. Her mind reeled. She was back in the lab for a moment. Doctor Mathias was doing something, something her mind shied away from as it usually did when her memories transported her back there. She could hear that same song and realized it had been used to trigger some reaction. She didn't know what the reaction might be. Could it be more violence? No, she would NOT hurt Kaylee no matter what. She clung to the image of Kaylee, fixing all her attention on her friend. She could imagine the other girl's night shirt hiked up around her neck, with one hand busy with the vibrator between her legs and the other at her breast. A warm sensation flooded over River as she felt what Kaylee was feeling. And it was delightful. And she wanted to share it.

As it happened this program was designed to allow River snoop in the feelings and emotions of someone else. As an interrogation tool combined with her telepathy it was priceless. But when the feelings were those of another woman approaching climax it was even better as an aphrodisiac. River slipped from her bunk and crossed the room, oblivious to everything but the squirming form of her friend.

Kaylee sensed River's presence and opened her eyes. The other girl was standing right by her bunk. The mechanic girl wanted to be embarrassed about being caught but somehow she wasn't A strange light was burning in her eyes, one that Kaylee had never seen before, as the other girl gently drew the blanket from Kaylee's body. River then held out her hand. Kaylee took it and the other girl helped her to her feet.

River's hand felt nice and for some reason Kaylee was reluctant to let go of it. It seemed perfectly natural then for her to take River's other hand and to stand almost nose to nose with the other girl. They remained motionless for a minute. Then River leaned forward and kissed Kaylee. It was only a soft quick brushing of lips, but it rooted the girl mechanic to the floor. All she could do was whisper the other girl's name.

"River."

The look in the passenger's eyes might have been frightening had it not somehow struck a responsive chord deep inside the crew woman. Kaylee could see the hunger there, building with every passing moment. Then River kissed her again. This time both pairs of lips parted and plucked at each other. Fingers tightened. Kaylee breathed that name again.

"River."

Her mind was a whirl. Images rumbled through her thoughts, one chasing another. She tried to bring Simon back to the forefront, recapture his face and the way she dreamed his body might feel against her own. She couldn't. Instead all she could picture was River, her slim dancer's body, the incredible gracefulness she displayed. Kaylee had occasionally been jealous of her best friend's cat-like moves. Now they didn't make her jealous, they made her tremble.

A third kiss. Mouths opened fully to each other now and tongues quested. Fingers released each other to allow the two girls to clutch each other. River's body plastered itself to Kaylee's more rounded form. A firm thigh slid between the mechanic's now parted legs.

A minute or two ago Kaylee would have been embarrassed for River to discover her lack of panties. Now it just meant there was one less obstacle between them, one less flimsy piece of cloth keeping their skin from touching. 

This kiss was deep and passionate. Kaylee was on fire and could feel the matching heat radiating from River. Their hands reached for each other and found the night shirts in the way. By now Kaylee was as eager as was River to undress each other. When the shirts were gone all that remained was River's panties. Kaylee's fingers caught the waistband and pulled down sharply. River wiggled and the cotton slid down the long slender legs to the floor.

The erotic energy reflecting back and forth between the two young women seemed to double with every minute that passed. River caught Kaylee in a grip that the other girl couldn't have broken if she had wanted to. River crushed Kaylee's willing form to her own and buried her face into the other girl's neck, right over her pulse point. This time when Kaylee called her friends name it came out only as a deep moan.

"River."

With that the duo tumbled back onto Kaylee's bunk. Two strong young bodies strained against each other, seeking and touching. River's slender but amazingly strong body pinned Kaylee against the bunk. A smooth thigh parted the girl mechanic's legs, sliding back and forth. Kaylee's hands ran up and down River's back, exploring there and then slipping lower to touch another woman's butt and the back of her legs for the first time.

The psychic drove her tongue deep into the other girl's mouth. At the same time she shifted her body, pushing Kaylee's legs even farther apart and settling her damp pussy against the equally wet one under it. Kaylee bent her legs and planted her feet on the bunk. She gripped River's tight muscular ass, trembling as she waited for what was to come next.

Slowly River rolled her hips. Both girls kept themselves shaved so bare labia rubbed gently, each woman spreading the other open. River slid a hand between them and cupped Kaylee's left breast. The wild kiss softened. River raised herself slightly on her elbow, still moving in a small circle against the more rounded body of her friend. She plucked the lower lip of the girl under her and sucked it before letting it spring free.

Rocking back and forth now, River used her body on Kaylee. That girl tightened her grip on River's butt and pulled her down just as the taller young woman jammed herself against her friend. Kaylee thrashed as River girl-fucked her. Her fingers dug into River's ass and yanked each time the girl on top thrust against her. River responded by closing her fingers on the Kaylee's nipple. At first she just held it, but as the pair responded more and more to the slapping of their bodies together those fingers tightened, pinching the hard nubbin.

Both girls were open to each other. Both felt their orgasms building. Kaylee met each one of River's downward thrusts. Juices were running freely, announcing each meeting of the two girls with squishing sounds that were nearly drowned out by the panting and moaning of the two women.

The intensity couldn't last. The two young bodies, both firm from exercise and work slammed into each other and held. Hips rolled again, grinding and crushing each other's most sensitive places. Kaylee gave way first, muffling her scream in River's neck. The other girl covered Kaylee's aching nipple with her mouth and held it as her body shuddered in her release.

Gradually breathing returned to normal. River settled down on top of her friend. Their arms went around each other and they rolled slightly until they were on their sides looking at each other.

"Wow," whispered Kaylee, her eyes shinning.

"Wow, indeed," replied the taller girl with a smile. 

"That was wonderful," admitted the mechanic. She met River's eyes and the other girl saw mischief growing there. "But since we're already here in this bunk together and its a little late for modesty, there's something else I want to do."

"What's that?" inquired River, her own eyes shinning. "Tell me."

Kaylee rested a hand on the back of River's neck and drew her new lover's face down. She whispered "How about I show you instead?" For once River was caught off guard. Kaylee rolled her over onto her back. A swift kiss stilled any protests. Then the mechanic slid down the slender body under her. She lavished quick kisses on River as she did, licking and lapping over River's small breasts and their diamond hard tips. The smooth taut tummy was next, then the swell of the other girl's mound. Now it was River's turn to moan only her lover's name.

"Kaylee."

The only response was by Kaylee was to slide between River's legs. She pursed her lips and blew her breath over the dampness she found there. A dampness that was a mingling of both her and River. She inhaled, finding a sweet aroma that nearly overwhelmed her senses. Her mouth opened; her tongue darted forth and she tasted the other girl.

"Kaylee." 

The name was a groan. The young woman who had been so confident, so in charge just minutes before lay helpless under the assault of Kaylee's lips and tongue. She lifted her arms over her head, stretched her dancer's legs and pointed her toes. Her eyes closed and she surrendered.

Now Kaylee was the aggressor. The mechanic was lost in what she was doing, where she was. She had thrown away any restraints. Her face was buried in River's pussy, her tongue jammed deeply inside the other girl. One hand slid down between her own legs and found her own clit. Her questing tongue found River's throbbing nubbin and teased it until it was as hard as her own. Then her lips closed on it.

"Kaylee!"

River was screaming now. Her hips bucked, her legs lifted and surrounded Kaylee's head. Smooth lithe thighs tightened, trapping Kaylee. Shapely ankles crossed and River ground herself on the other girl's face. And Kaylee loved it. Her fingers lashed her clit, bringing her to the point of no return. Her teeth replaced her lips, scraping so lightly over River's pearl. The taller girl was beating on the bunk, her head rolling side to side. Then Kaylee bit down and both young women exploded, thrashing together on the bed.

There was nothing that kept the pair of woman from making love far into the artificial night. Finally sleep claimed them and they rested, locked in each other's arms. 

(The next morning)

Kaylee awoke slowly, reluctantly, wanting to return to the lovely dream she had been having. It still felt like an arm around her waist held her tightly. She felt warm and snuggled back into the other body in her bunk. Then she realized that there WAS another body in bed with her and that body, like her own was nude. And it was female. Memories of the night before flooded her mind.

"River?"

"Kaylee?"

Kaylee squirmed until she was facing the other girl. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She couldn't think of anything to say. Finally she blurted "What happened last night?"

River raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

Now Kaylee did blush. "I remember what we did. I just don't 'xactly remember why."

"I'm not sure I do either, although it has something to do with the Academy and Dr Mathias. The music made me flash back to there and then all I could think of was you." River slipped from the bunk, as graceful as ever. "I know how you feel about my brother. We can just pretend this never happened."

"Or," Kaylee blurted out, "We could remember it in case we ever want to do it again." Astounded at her own audacity, the mechanic blushed again and dropped her eyes. River was, after all, still nude and Kaylee found herself hard pressed to look at the other girl's body without getting a bit squirmy again.

River knelt by the bunk and tipped Kaylee's chin up. Her eyes were twinkling now, not consumed like they were last night. Once more she brushed her lips over Kaylee's.

"When you want to remember, just let me know."

Kaylee's eyes twinkled back. "You can count on it."

(The End)



Firefly



Paul kissed her with the certain feeling that magic was in the air, that the very fabric of time had been sundered by Heather's summons. Her tongue danced with his; her fingers slipped under his shirt and caressed their way up his chest. He placed the palm of his hand on her belly and rubbed in slowly widening circles, letting his fingers find their way past the elastic hem of her waistband, the leather of her belt. He felt his fingertips sliding past the fabric of her panties, felt them weave into the tapestry of her pubic hair. He could hear her breathing increase, feel the warmth of her need in her shallow gasps as his fingers dipped into the narrow crease between her lips.

He could feel her undoing his belt, unsnapping the button of his trousers; her fingers were soon wrapped around his semi-erect cock, massaging it to life. Given that it had been more than two years since his last sexual encounter, being a medical student having completely destroyed his social life, he was certain this was going to be an embarrassingly brief interlude. She dropped slowly to her knees and took his head gently in her mouth, rolled her tongue around it. She began to slowly move her mouth up and down the shaft. With almost explosive fury, his back arched as his hands sought her head, and his orgasm overtook him - an unleashed beast beyond his control.

The surprise of his orgasm was a shock to Heather MacDonald as well, but this was soon overshadowed by the sheer volume of cum that erupted from the young man's cock. The first wave thrashed against the back of her throat; pulse after pulse followed, cresting in her mouth like breakers on a storm-tossed beach. She almost came herself just from the force of his need, never mind that she was afraid she would gag on his huge load. But she accommodated his need, she swallowed all he gave her, milking his cock with her hands as he spent himself, working to get every drop of cum out of his balls. Soon she stood up, licking errant pearls from her lips, smiling contentedly though with her mouth quite openly inviting him to spend the night in deeper explorations.

"That was a surprise," he said.

"Oh?" she replied, looking at him expectantly. 

"Unexpected. Really lovely. I just never..."

"You never thought of getting it on with someone your mother's age," she interjected. "Let alone your mother's best friend." She smiled, kissed his cheek. "I know that you have mountains of unpleasant things to sort through, that you have your sisters to care for. I know the next few days are going to be simply hell, Paul. I don't want to add to your grief by confusing you. But, Paul, I could see into your soul this morning, you were so tired, you looked so confused and defeated. I wasn't feeling sorry for you, I just wanted to give you something that would lighten the burdens of the day. Please forgive me for wanting to give you something so...extreme..."

"Gad, Heather, do you know how totally lovely you are? Why should you need forgiveness? You've given me so much more than relief. But let's face it, we've asked more questions here than we've answered."

"Oh, Paulie, let's not make this complicated. Let's not make this about love, O.K.?" she grinned and laughed lightly. "But you better take me inside and take care of me or I'm going to be a really bad camper in the morning!" She laughed as she took his hand and pulled him back toward the house.

The few remaining fireflies drifted away from the heat, back to the trees and stars. The music as gently faded from the night.

Paul Carter sat deep in thought about Heather as she went about fixing breakfast for his sisters and Brooke. She was in so many superficial ways like his mother; in age, perhaps, but also in her ability to make people around her feel comfortable, indeed, loved. But she was so very different. In profound ways. Where his mother had been a homemaker, Heather MacDonald had been a dynamic force on the Boston political scene, working for JFK while in college and a steady succession of democratic candidates ever since. She had often been accused of furthering the careers of others over the interests of her family. And while his mother had been a refined, indeed, an elegant woman, Heather was frankly sexy, and made no excuses for the effect she had on both men and women.

But the simple fact was that she had aged rapidly in the past four or five years. Her divorce, too, had apparently devastated her since of well being. Paul thought of the standard cliches; a post-menopausal women, abandoned for a younger women; a woman used to her physical beauty, and the way men responded to that beauty a constant turn-on, a head trip, and that being taken from her as well by the simple passage of time. Now, her best friend dead. Perhaps, Paul thought, his own mother had been a major source of strength and support for Heather when her husband had walked out. Perhaps she was trying to reconnect with that sense of security so horribly taken from her by acting out with Paul what she could not in any other way. Hard to understand women even on a good day, he concluded.

Again the girls cleaned up after the meal. Paul went to the study and opened the letter from his father that had been drafted with such a contingency in mind. It contained an overview of his parent's wishes, instructions on whom to call, what bank accounts were to be used for what purpose, tax accountants, stock brokers, life insurance information...all detailed, all very clear.

There were also letters rubber-banded together addressed to Paul, Edith, and Melody, as well as Heather and Brooke MacDonald, which he found odd. There was a note to Paul taped to these letters stating that all recipients were to sit together after whatever funeral services were held and read their letters at the same time and discuss the contents together. Paul was advised to keep these letters secure.

Paul spent the rest of the morning calling attorneys and brokers, discussing matters with the airline's representatives, and began to discuss arrangements with the family's church for a memorial service. He pulled a date for the service right out of thin air, called the newspaper to place an announcement, and began the difficult process of calling all of the family's close friends and business partners. He called aunts and uncles, cousins, his parent's old college room-mates, and made arrangements for a very large family dinner to be held at his parent's favorite restaurant following the service. When he finally looked up it was early afternoon. And Heather MacDonald sat in the living room, quietly looking at him with a very gentle smile on her face.  

"How long have you been sitting there?' he asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe an hour or three. Since we finished cleaning up breakfast. I thought I'd come help you, but it looks like you have things under control."

"Control? Yeah, right. Well, I wish you would have just come in and sat with me. It would have been nice to have something pleasant to look at," he said wistfully. "Who knew things could get so complex?"

"You've turned out to be quite a man, Paul. I can't tell you how proud I am of you, how proud your mother and father would be of you right now. What a life you're going to have."

"Ah, well, I hate to say it, but if I don't get some lunch I'm going to expire right here and now."

"Well alright! Let's get your dad's car and go into town."

"Done deal! Let's go...do you think I ought to get the girls?" he said.

"Nope. I sent them in to Boston to buy some clothes and...things."

"Would you rather go upstairs?" he asked hopefully, mischievously.

"I thought you were hungry," she retorted playfully.

"Oh, well, yeah, you could call it that..." He looked at her with resolve in his eyes.

They managed to get out for some lunch just as the girls were coming in.

Services were held at the Harvard Club, presided over by the college chaplain. Family and friends gathered at the Four Seasons for lunch afterwards. Heather MacDonald was at Paul Carter's side during all of the events; she was not overtly possessive or in any way inappropriate, she was just - there. If anything, Paul thought, she had assumed a protective role, and people seemed to understand. 

From Heather's point of view, she had just stepped into the maternal role, feeling most particularly that the girls needed the reassuring presence of their mother's best friend by their side. After lunch the immediate family, and the MacDonalds, went back to their homes in the limousines that had been engaged for the day. The girls and Brooke MacDonald sat in the first vehicle, while Paul and Heather sat together in the second. The ride was very quiet out the Pike, the mass of potholes not-withstanding.

Paul assembled the girls, and Brooke and Heather, in the living room soon after they returned. He explained his actions taken so far in dealing with his parent's affairs; he wanted to keep his sisters in the loop, so to speak, to avoid any appearance of impropriety. He also explained to Brooke and Heather that his parent's had requested their presence at this meeting, and that seemed to wake Heather MacDonald right up. She began to fidget a bit. 'Now, what's that all about?' Paul Carter thought to himself.

He pulled out the five letters and held them in his lap, then he read aloud a short note from his father to the assembled group.

'Molly and I want to thank you for being here together. I can only say that I think I understand the grief and uncertainty you feel. Hopefully over the days and weeks ahead each of you will find your way to peace with the contours of your new world.

'We have asked Paul to have each of you read a letter that Molly and I have written. Each letter is different in minor ways, but each letter contains a core of information that is vital each of you understand. The information in your letter will unsettle some of you greatly; I am sure that a few of you will be completely devastated. Molly and I apologize for this, and I hope that all of you will come together to help each other come to terms with this information.

'Paul will have information and instructions for each of you in his letter. Whatever your feelings as you read your letter, please remain together after you are finished, and listen to what Paul has to say. I am sure that each of you will find the information of use in the coming days.

'Before Paul gives you your letter, let Molly and I tell each of you of our profound and total love for you. You all have been the best family and friends we could have hoped for, and we will miss you.'

Paul stood and handed out the letters to his sisters and the MacDonalds. He repeated his father's instructions that everyone remain together until Paul could relay the information contained in his letter. He noticed that Heather MacDonald was plainly agitated and uncomfortable as he sat down to his letter.

'Paul,

First off, again, thanks for taking care of this; we know you alone will be able to handle this information with grace and care.

Your mother and I have always known we would move on together, so if that has been a question for you, just put it down to one of those mysteries of life. Funny, but a mystery.

Paul, this letter primarily contains information you need to know about the MacDonalds, specifically Brooke MacDonald. Please read this carefully, and between the lines as you see fit.

Not long after Rod married Heather they tried, unsuccessfully, to have children for several years. Rod and Heather eventually sought medical advice, and learned that Rod was sterile, and that there was no way to effect a remedy.

Heather was devastated, to put it mildly. She confided this information to Molly, who of course let me know. We both thought it tragic, knowing that Rod and Heather would have made terrific parents.

Several months later we had a dinner party here at the house. We were celebrating the news that your mother was pregnant, with you, Paul, and we had wanted to share this news with our friends. After our guests had left and I was helping your mother clean up, Rod came back in and asked to speak with your mother and I. Your mother and I were very concerned because Rod looked completely devastated, and very unsure of himself.

Rod explained how Molly was coming apart, that he couldn't help her, and that the problem was his, Rod's, infertility. He told us that he and Molly had talked to their physician at length about alternatives, and the physician replied that some couples, when confronted with such a situation, try to use a surrogate to achieve a pregnancy.

At this point your mother and I had a pretty good idea where this was going, and I guess you could say we were shocked, as I know you are right now. 

Rod asked your mother specifically if she would allow me to act as his surrogate, to help them bring a baby into the world. He told us that Heather was upstairs in their house, waiting for me. Paul, I have never loved another woman; your mother was and always will be the only woman I will forever love, and that night I guess I loved her more for her humanity than any other person I have ever known.

Your mother sent me to Heather's bed. Call it an act of providence if you will, but please never call it perverted or wrong.

Nine months after that night Brooke MacDonald was born.

Paul, I am Brooke MacDonald's father. And she is your sister. And most importantly, Paul, Heather and Rod MacDonald are our greatest friends, and they always will be. It gave your mother and I no joy to see them break apart after so many years together, and I suspect that night so long ago played no small role in their coming apart.

It is perhaps no surprise that your mother and I kept out of Brooke's upbringing, but it gave us great happiness when we could help Rod and Heather buy their house, so that they could be near us as Brooke grew up. In point of fact, Paul, the MacDonald house - in name and deed - belongs to your mother and I. The first action I want you to take, Paul, is to structure a transfer of title, and put this property in both Heather and Brooke's name.

Your second task, Paul, will be to insure that Brooke becomes a complete part of our family, and that her family takes care of her, now and forever. She must know that this love is unconditional, and it will be in no small measure your duty to insure that this comes about.

Paul, do not fail your mother and I in this request.

Your mother and I need to do this as Rod has become, in our estimation, somewhat unstable. He hasn't seen Brooke, at the time of this writing, in quite some time, and he is not helping Heather out financially at all. It seems he's not very good with money. He never was, for that matter. But he will always remain a dear and true friend of ours, Paul, so please, never think badly of him. Think of what he gave away to give Heather her child.

Your mother and I did not want Rod here today, especially under these circumstances. We have told Rod that in the event of our death we would be taking these actions, so they should not come as a surprise to him. I suppose I will be cynical for a moment and add that should he be angry about Brooke being informed of her paternity, perhaps the Trust established for him will ameliorate his anger somewhat.

To that end, Paul, you will find at UBS downtown a safety deposit box that contains six packages. In each package are documents that describe the contents of each Trust that we have established for all of our children and Heather and Rod. These monies and the guardianship we have established for these funds, will insure that none of you will ever have to worry about money. With care, neither will your grand children.

Paul, these duties fall to you. I know that they will be difficult, but that you, Paul, of all our children will be up to the task.

And now, one last bit of advice. Get those girls and your skinny ass in the car and get down to Legal's for some chowder.

We love you, son, and always will.

Mom and Dad

Paul looked up from the letter with tears in his eyes, and at something of a loss for words. He was the first to finish reading, and this gave him a chance to look at the others, perhaps gauge their reactions. 

Melody was reading in silence, her eyes wide, her head cocked to one side as if suddenly off balance.

Poor, innocent Edith, Paul thought, was reading her letter as if she were reading the New York Times. Her fingers moved along the text on the paper as if she was reading Braille. 

Heather was gripping the arm of her chair with one hand, her white-knuckled fingers digging into the fabric. In her other hand she held the letter, which was visibly shaking.

Paul looked last at who had once been his one true love of the ages, who now for God's sake was his sister. Her face was ashen, looked for all the world as if she was going to unravel into a million strands of transparent yarn. She was straining to hold back a reservoir of shattered tears; in fact the letter she held in her hands was already damp from several tears that had so far fallen in silence. 

Paul Carter kept his seat; he looked at the women of his life who would be forever bound to him. He knew that Melody and Heather would easily come to terms with the new reality of their lives, that Brooke would become a bigger part of their lives than she already was.

He also knew that he would love Brooke MacDonald for the rest of his life, just not in the way he had wanted all those years ago. He smiled at the irony.

He thought of Heather MacDonald. Oh, how he wished she were younger. Or was that really what he wished? 

He was scheduled to begin his internship at Mass General in only three weeks. He had planned to take an apartment downtown to be close to the hospital. Oh, who was it that said reality can be so messy!

He had always thought the idea of soulmates was a ludicrous one. Love had become, in the calculus of his academic life, a utilitarian exercise one engaged in to consummate the drive to breed, and nothing more. Then he thought of his father's words; that was no utilitarian calculus, that was pure love. Love of family, love for friends. But most of all, total love and respect for the woman he had chosen to be his wife. How stupidly old-fashioned that was, he thought, and how magnificent.

He looked at Heather as she finished her letter; she had folded the letter and placed it 'just so' on her lap. Her posture was straight, legs close together; she looked the very essence of defensive posturing. She crossed her hands in her lap, closing that gap in her defenses. Paul smiled inwardly, then made eye contact with her. She held it for but a moment, then looked down at the letter in her lap.

Melody and Edith had both finished; they looked over at Brooke then at Paul. Edith had an expression on her face that reminded Paul of someone lost in a maze. 'Aren't we all,' he thought.

He looked at Brooke. She was finished with the letter, at least for now. Her head was down and she was silently crying. He watched her head bobbing up and down as tears fought with breath for dominion; presently a long string of snot and tears ran from her nose directly toward her lap. Paul got up and rushed to her, and kneeling down to eye level, gave her his handkerchief.

Brooke just as suddenly looked up toward the ceiling, her tears in open conflagration. Her hands moved as if to ask a question or make a comment, but no sound came. Confusion rippled through her heart and shuddered to the surface like eddies across a pond. A few tormented moments passed before a ripple of laughter bubbled through her tears, as she caught her breath, tried to speak.




Firefly



"Well, Paul," she said between gasps, "you better go get the car. Is it just me, or does anyone else here have a craving for chowder?"

In the two weeks since the funeral for his parents, Paul Carter had arranged for and seen to the details of his parents final requests. He had seen to it that Melody and Edith were enrolled in summer sessions at BC, and that Brooke had access to funds so that she could get away from the stress that the news about her family was undoubtedly causing. He had advised her to travel for a while, but he cautioned her that she couldn't run away from her troubles, that she'd need to make peace with her mother and find a new place in her heart for Rod MacDonald.

He had managed to secure graduation documents from the medical school, and confirmed his acceptance of the internship at MassGen. He had then flown back to California to pack his belongings and clean up his apartment under Coit Tower. He was looking forward to the drive, to the drive he and his father had made together almost eight years ago, although in a slightly different direction. He would make this trip in the same old BMW 2002, the very same car he had sat with his father in for five days. They had sat as the car droned along and talked about all the what-ifs and woulda-coulda-shouldas of their lives so far, about all that faced Paul as he began college, and what was at stake. All as the landscape of the country drifted by. Paul Carter looked forward to the drive, to the memories.

In a very elemental way, however, he missed Heather MacDonald. They had talked to one another a couple of time since he had returned to San Francisco. He didn't sense any regrets or ulterior motives in her voice when they talked, only that she was happy to hear his voice, to listen to him, and to have him listen to her. Perhaps that was to be expected, she was a successful, mature operator skilled at moving through the political landscapes of both Boston and Washington.

In another, again, very elemental way, he was confused about her presence in his life. Could he make a life with her; hell, is that even what she wanted. He was pretty sure she was just about as beautiful a woman as he had ever been with, to the degree that was important. And having kids would never be an issue with him; he was so sure he didn't want to bring another life into the world that he'd had a vasectomy a couple of years ago. But she was his mother's best friend. 'People are funny about these things,' Paul thought. Having kids isn't the issue.

More to the point, he was comfortable with her in a way that went beyond the familiar. He thought about that for a while, turned it over in his mind. That's when he thought of Dustin Hoffman and Anne Bancroft.

"Hell," he said to the walls, "Ben and Mrs Robinson were probably having fun, too, but that relationship was fatally flawed even before the whole Elaine thing. Mrs Robinson was an alcoholic/neurotic narcissistic sociopath with serious people issues. And Ben, who the hell could blame him? Fresh out of school, a red Alpha Romeo, an older chick with killer legs. So he screwed up and took Elaine Robinson out. I mean, for Christ sakes it was Katherine fucking Ross! Who wouldn't? Oh, God, now I'm talking to myself..."

It hit him like a body blow, right out of the blue. He thought of her in the yard behind the house, her arms outstretched in the night. The golden glow of the firefly silhouetting her features. How lovely she was. That was what he had told her, and he had meant it. Heather MacDonald wasn't a Mrs Robinson, a broken down drunk as Ben had called her in the movie. She was a force of nature.

As he was putting the last of his socks and shirts in his overnighter, he fought the urge to call her. Something told him that he needed to tell her his feelings, and he suddenly felt very sure what those feelings were; he was sure that he loved her. Not in some confused adolescent/Oedipal way, but in a way that felt very organic to him. She was a part of him, his past, to be sure; but she had been the single most important voice of reason during the past few weeks, and he did not want to envision a life without that voice.

'Had she cast a spell?' he thought out loud. "Firefly, firefly..."

He walked into the little kitchenette and placed some Cokes and frozen Snickers Bars into the same little cooler he had used on the trip out eight years ago. He looked at the phone on the wall; it probably hadn't been disconnected yet. 'Call her,' the voice inside kept saying, "and tell her that you love her. That you don't want to spend another day without her."

He stepped toward the phone when the little doorbell buzzed. He stopped; walked to the door and pulled it open. Of course, it had to be...

"Thought you might like a little company," an ever on-the-spot Heather MacDonald said.

"You know. I was just thinkin' the same thing," Paul Carter shot back.

"Oh, you were, were you?"

"Yep. Actually, kinda thought I might like to keep you around for a while, if you think you could handle bein' around me."

"Well, we've got about three thousand miles to figure that one out," she said. "Is there still a bed in here."

"Reckon so."

"Sheets?"

"Who needs sheets, woman?"

Some affairs are like gravity. With some people, it's like there's a force of nature - an attraction - between two bodies, an irresistible force. You know. Newton, the apple and all that.

And it's always good to remember that the apple always falls pretty close to the tree. 

Even if the tree is pretty close to home.