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Firefly: A Simple Twist of Fate (14/14), (River/Wash, crew), Adult.

Title:: A Simple Twist of Fate, chapter fourteen
Date Posted: 20 July 2007
Author: srichard and van
Rating: This chapter: NC-17
Characters: River, Wash, crew
Pairing: River/Wash
Word count: 3,555
Warnings: Begins pre-TV series, completely AU, will invovle underage romance.
Summary: Blue Sun's Academy brings two unlikely people together.
Disclaimer: Co-written. We are not affliated with Mutant Enemy, Joss, Firefly/Serenity, Unversal, Fox or anyone. If we were, we'd be making money off this. We mean no harm. Title from the Bob Dylan song. Crossposted to ff_fanfic.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14.




Epilogue:
--

Out in the black, Serenity hummed with contentment. Outside of the ship it was cold and unfeeling, but inside was a pocket of warmth so strong it nearly glowed. The crew sat gathered around the large wooden table in the galley. Mal and Inara presided over the ends of the table, grinning as they ate. Wash and River sat side by side on one end, with Simon near Mal, and Kaylee and Zoe sat on the other, Jayne near Inara.

All eyes were focused on the pilot, as he animatedly explained how once, shortly before entering the flight instructor school at the Academy, he had been to a moon where the people juggled geese. “I swear,” he said, using bread rolls for demonstration, “baby goslings. They were juggled.”

One of the rolls fell onto the table, and Jayne reached across to snatch it up, grinning as he did.

"Did you try?" River laughed, reaching up dexterously to snatch one of the rolls from him in mid-air. Her face was brighter, clearer than it had been in years, and the weariness, doubt and hesitation were gone. The last doll was dead, and the truth made free. It was almost surprising to River to realize that she had, indubitably, been right about both.

"Reckon if he had, his pretty face'd be scarred up some," Jayne smirked, tearing into his roll.

“I’ve heard of some strange past times,” Inara said, laughter in her eyes, “but never juggling geese.”

Wash grinned, turning to look down at River affectionately. There had been darkness in this ship before, a bleakness that had threatened to swallow them all, and somehow against the odds, they had defeated it and come through stronger. “I did try,” he said, lifting his gaze from River to Jayne. “But they don’t have teeth. It was fun. They’re soft, and warm.”

Kaylee grinned brightly. “I think it sounds like loads of fun. We ought t’try stoppin’ there sometime.”

Mal and Zoe exchanged glances. “Ain’t letting no ducks overrun my boat, little Kaylee.”

"Geese," River corrected. "Don't worry. Wash would kill them in his attempts to juggle. Then we could braise them."

"Quite delicious," Simon said without thinking, then looked up to find Mal's quizzical eyes on him, and Kaylee's horrified ones.

Mal looked like he was trying not to laugh. "This wouldn't by any chance be the same as that moon you told us about whose main export happened to be fine vodka?" He crossed his arms over his chest, mock-stern.

“Now there’s a planet worth goin’ t’see,” Jayne said, finishing off his roll.

“Are you implying I was drunk, Mal?” Wash chastised. After a moment of consideration, he added, “Well, you know, I might have been.”

"He's cute when he's drunk," River said, conspiratorially. Her chest swelled with love as she leaned over, nuzzling at him.

Inara laughed. "I hate to agree, but you're right, River."

"You implyin' my hooch ain't good enough, Jayne?" Kaylee huffed.

"Or maybe just that he'd like to keep some of that shiny finish on his teeth," Zoe grinned.

Wash put his hands out, directing the conversation back to him. “Wait, no, go back to talking about how cute I am.”

Jayne snorted. “Only time I ever seen you drunk is when we was on Canton and you just smelled like go se then. Weren’t nothing cute ‘bout that.”

“Jayne,” Simon said, eyeing him carefully, “everything smelled bad on Canton.”

“Well, I think he were still cute, even if he did smell bad,” Kaylee said with a pointed nod.

Wash settled back, one arm around River as he grinned brightly, taking in the conversation.

"He kind of was," Simon admitted, laughing at Mal.

Mal nodded thoughtfully. "Damn near cuddly." He picked up his plate and moved towards the sink, rinsing it off.

At this, River smiled at Wash, making a little, inquiring sound. It had been so long, it seemed, so long since cold and dry had been replaced with hot and wet, fertile conditions.

Wash smiled down at her, rubbing her back fondly. “Getting jealous of everyone saying how very cute and cuddly I am, baby?” He grinned, but the look she was giving him made his eyebrows rise.

“Hell, I don’t think he’s cute,” Jayne protested to anyone that would listen.

Wash lifted his head. “Your words wound me, Jayne,” he mocked.

Jayne grunted, reaching out to see if there was any food left in any of the serving dishes.

Zoe got to her feet following Mal, gathering hers and Kaylee’s plates to rinse. Seeing the dinner coming to an end, Wash returned his gaze to River. “You done eating?”

River nodded eagerly, rising to take away Wash's plate as well. She tossed a half a boiled potato at Jayne. "Go make the bed warm," she ordered Wash, staring hungrily at him.

Wash laughed, almost nervously, watching her back as she walked away from him. He felt a stirring in his loins and glanced guiltily down at Simon.

The doctor wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose to his feet. “I’m going to be . . . elsewhere for a while.”

Wash laughed, then hurried out of the galley, toward the crew quarters, unaware that Mal was following him.

He got the hatch opened and dropped down into the tiny bunk he shared with River, but the room was wrong. His things weren’t there, and neither were River’s. “What the? This isn’t . . .”

"Wrong bunk," Mal said, his face appearing suddenly, looking down the ladder at him, trying to conceal a broad grin.

River came up in time to see the confusion on Wash's face. "Settled now," she said, her face content as she took in what had been done.

“Wrong bunk?” Wash echoed. He climbed back out of the bunk and stood in the corridor for several seconds, looking between River and Mal. “Then where--?”

Mal gestured to his room, shrugging. “Figured it’d be more comfortable.”

Wash laughed, floored. “Mal, I . . .” He laughed. “I don’t know what to say.”

Mal strolled past, heading back to the galley. “You’re welcome.”

Wash watched him go. “Thank you!” he called. When Mal was gone, Wash’s gaze drifted back to River. “How ‘bout that?”

River smiled and drew him close for a kiss. "Perfect. Makes tonight perfect." She pressed her body against the lean length of him.

Wash grinned, returning the kiss as he wrapped his arms around her. “Am I about to get lucky?” He laughed lightly. “I think I’m about to get lucky.”

She thwapped his shoulder. "Irreverent. You're terrible." She pulled away, grasping at his hand. "Come on."

Wash laughed, all smiles, allowing her to tug his hand. It was strange to push open the hatch to Mal’s bunk and descend. Inside he found all their things and he wondered when the change had been made and who had been involved. “This is incredible,” he said, taking up her hand again and squeezing it. “Did you know about this?”

River shook her head. "Wasn't told." She looked at their towels, folded and twisted into the semblance of a monkey. "Kaylee was."

“Feels like I’m in a hotel. Like it’s a vacation on a very small island.” He drew River to him. “A vacation on a very tiny island with my very favorite girl.”

"No hyacinths for my hair," she noted. "But you're happy anyway? No more about leaving?" She looked at him hopefully. His futile dreams of independence rubbed at her sometimes.

Wash stroked her hair, tucking some of it behind the ear where the flower would be. “I’m happy. I’d probably make a lousy captain, anyway. We’d be broke in a matters of weeks.” He gave her a crooked grin. “You’re happy?”

River nodded. "So happy." She kissed him again, then ducked down slightly before springing up, her legs wrapping around his waist. "Bed now. Take me to bed."

There wasn’t any way Wash could resist that, nor did he have any desire to. He held her easily against him, delighting in the way she felt in his arms. The thought of her spread out on a big bed spurred him on. It seemed all right now. The crew knew, and accepted them. Mal had given them his blessing by giving his room up for them.

Wash placed her down on the bed, easily crawling up over her. He looked down into her eyes, filling with love and passion and desire. “I love you. More than anything or anyone else, ever. Is that all right?” He smiled.

River nodded, stroking his face. "Me too. As much as Simon. More than Mal," she said, with her usual, disarming candor. She bit her lip a little. "You didn't mind...waiting?" She'd pushed him away all through the trip to Miranda and back--it had taken every bit of her constant concentration, along with Wash's lucky last-minute remembrance of his old school friend, Mr. Universe, to get them through.

Wash nodded, smiling. “I can’t pretend to know what you were going through during all of that, but I do know that none of us were really relaxed enough to let our guard down, least of all you.” He bent to kiss her neck. “I’m a patient man. Well, sometimes.” He lifted his head again, looking down at her with concern in his eyes. “Sometimes I’m afraid I’m too . . . needy for you.”

She shook her head vigorously. "I'm the one who needs now, Wash, need you..." She rubbed herself against him to prove it, burying her face in his neck and biting. "Take off my panties," she said in a muffled voice.

Wash nodded, moving to do as she asked. There were times when River was timid and shy, and times when she was violent and lethal and the two sides could be so opposite that Wash was surprised he could reconcile his little warrior teenager. His hands slid along her thighs, easily working her panties off her from under her dress. “Missed you,” he murmured into her ear.

"Feel how much I missed you," she whispered, parting her legs for him, wanton and desirous. It was time, the right time, his time and hers. River always did like it when things came together properly.

He tossed her panties aside and returned his hand to her, sucking in his breath as he pressed down into her warm wetness. “River,” he breathed, lifting his head to look down into her eyes. She’d never felt like that before, not without lubricant aid. His other hand instinctively reached down to squeeze his hardening cock inside his pants.

"Stop that," she scolded, catching his hand and pulling it away before replacing it with her own, loving and stroking. "Mine. Yours for me, mine for you. Love you, need you . . ." She pressed her thighs together, trying to capture his hand there, to make him press harder.

“Sorry,” Wash groaned, apologetically. He bowed his head as her hand took over for his, letting his fingers feel. She was slick, and soft and felt so wonderful. He had made love to a number of women in the past, but none had ever felt quite like this before. He let his thumb rub against her clit, but used his other fingers to press slowly into her.

River gave a gasping moan. He had never penetrated her before at all, and it felt...she clenched tightly around his fingers, closing her eyes to try and quantify, understand, but all that came to mind were lines about clouds and thunder. "Wash . . ." Her hand tightened automatically on his cock.

“God,” Wash panted, practically trembling in his sudden want for her. He watched her face tense, felt every motion in her body as she tightened around his hand. “I need,” he gasped, and couldn’t decide what he needed. He needed his pants off, and to kiss her, and to bury himself inside her and get lost in his desire. He needed her.

River nodded practically, releasing him so she could undo his fly neatly, tugging at his trousers and freeing his cock, pushing them as far down his hips as she could. "Yours," she whispered, kissing him again. "Yours, yours, yours..." She shifted slightly so she could pull off her own dress, managing it without dislodging his hand.

Wash twisted, kicking off his pants, until they fell in a heap on the floor. He still wore a shirt, but as far as he could see there was nothing to be done for that right now. Touching her, having her, was so much more important. And there she was, spread out on the bed for him, body pale white and all his. His voice caught in his throat and he let out a low groan as he took the sight of her in. Her body, and his hand and her face and hair. “Mine,” he said in a possessive growl, pressing his hand into her as he did.

River cried out, looking down so she could see what he saw, the sight that aroused him so, even as his desire met with hers to sweep her up to greater and greater heights. "Want you..." She caught at his free hand and put it to one of her breasts, forcing him to squeeze.

Wash’s eyes lifted, looking to his hand on her breasts, and he squeezed it, harder than he had in the past. His fingers found her nipple and tweaked it until it hardened, and he brushed his palm against it when it did. His other hand pulled back, just a bit as he got into a better position, and then he returned it, pressing into her, testing and feeling and preparing. His hips rocked into the cold air of their own accord. “River,” he managed to breathe, bowing his head to bury his face in her neck. He placed hot kisses along her throat. “Please,” he groaned, hardly even aware of what he was saying.

“Yes,” she choked out, though loath to lose the pleasure of his hand again. He needed, though, and his desire alone almost undid her. “Now Wash, in me, now...” She brought a hand up to cover the breast he neglected, mimicking his treatment and making the nipple harden.

Reluctantly Wash took his hand away, shivering as he lost her warmth. For a moment he touched on her breast and the lack of contact made him weak. He stroked his cock a few times, slicking it with her own wetness before getting himself into position. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He tore his eyes off what he was doing, focusing instead on her face.

His hand tightened on his cock and, like a sudden load of bricks, he realized they were moving too fast, lost in the moment. “Skin,” he groaned out. In their changed room he knew where nothing was and feared perhaps things would be ruined. Looking frantically for something to help, his eyes focused on the little towel monkey Kaylee had folded up for them.

Kaylee had decorated the room. Little precocious Kaylee, who so often talked about her exploits with Zoe, that Wash felt he had witnessed a few. Good Kaylee. His head turned, looking to the other side of the bed, and there, on the nightstand, set for preparation, was his box of skins. He let out a strangled cry, reached out and grabbed one. “Sorry,” he breathed, bending to kiss her before tearing the package open with his teeth.

River gave a little, weak laugh. She wouldn’t have thought of that herself. “Hurry,” she urged, one hand coming down to stroke at the curve of his ass.

Wash laughed, quickly rolling it on. Then, in relief, he bent and rubbed the head his cock against her, marveling at the feel, and even more so at the fact that he was actually, finally, doing it. He looked at her, for guidance and assurance and love, then began to press into her, keeping his eyes on her face, judging her reaction.

River’s breath came out in a little whining sound, and she shifted so that the soles of her feet were against the mattress and she could press up better, even as her cunt tightened against the invasion. She couldn’t form words, couldn't say anything, just looked up at him with all the love and need that she felt.

Wash wasn’t a poet, but there was poetry going through his head as he looked at her. He couldn’t form it in words, but he felt it flowing out of him and into her and back. He worked slow, feeling the resistance despite her want. He kissed her, a little rougher than intended. “It might hurt,” he whispered, then kissed her again, “but only for a second.” And he realized she had felt and endured worse pain than he had ever imagined and that the warning was probably pointless. But he had never hurt her, not intentionally, and so he had to say it and cover her with kisses during.

River’s body fought him, just a little, couldn’t help it, and when he was in, fully inside her, she was breathing in quick, shallow pants, sweat standing out on her body. “Feels,” she whispered fretfully. “Wash, feels...” Her words tumbled out against his lips.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to form more coherent words than that. His head felt light as she pressed around him, squeezing him, and he was almost afraid to move, afraid that perhaps he would last a few seconds and spend himself too quickly. He kissed her several times, then pulled back, looking at her. “Love you, River,” he panted before letting his body do what it longed to do, and that was to roll in one smooth, slow motion, into her and then out and then back in.

“L-love you too,” River managed. Her hands clawed at his shoulders as he began thrusting slowly inside her. She was wholly overexcited, and had to fight to maintain control, not to buck and mewl and thrash beneath him. “Touch again,” she begged. “More.”

Wash had a hard time concentrating on her words because everything was so white hot and good. He tingled through to his toes and he just wanted to thrust into her harder and faster. It wasn’t that he was ignoring her, but it took a few seconds for her words to penetrate his pleasure-induced stupor. “Touch,” he repeated, and then he lifted his hands, placed one on each breast, and began to squeeze and tweak them all while gradually increasing the pace of his thrusts.

River had actually meant for him to touch elsewhere, but this was good enough that she couldn't wish for him to stop. He was moving faster now, and she loosed her control, allowing herself to meet him, gifting him with all her body and her passion. “Wash...” Her teeth gnawed at her lip, and she was on the brink of completely shattering in his arms.

Wash let the passion take him, let her loss of control guide his, and he moved in her, riding the pleasure like a tidal wave as it approached. It was coming closer and he was eager to have it crash over them, to consume them. He bent, crushing his mouth to hers, and tensed, feeling as if the universe had shifted on its axis and started spinning around them. “River,” he groaned and then exploded.

River had managed to lose herself just before he did, and she nearly screamed as he came inside her, completing the circuit of desire and need and release. She was sobbing, clutching him to her needily, nothing in the whole of her life having prepared her for this intensity.

Wash rode the high of his orgasm—their orgasm—for several long moments. His body kept thrusting a couple seconds longer, caught up in the movement as he worked himself dry. Then it was over and he nearly collapsed on top of her. His hands slid to her side, resting on the bed so he could prop himself up, but his face buried into her neck. He lay, cradled in between her legs, panting as he soared and came back down.

“Wash,” she wept, clinging. “Wash...”

He lifted his head, looking at her, startled by her tears. One of his hands rose, brushing at him, and her hair. “Shh,” he soothed. “You’re all right?”

She nodded, then wriggled, dislodging him and shifting so she could lie cradled in his arms. “Just love you. Love you too much.”

Wash curled on his side, against her, drawing her close so he could kiss her. The bed felt vast beneath him, and he sighed, stretching his legs out contently, drawing her closer, happier than he had perhaps ever known he could be. “Love you more,” he teased softly, kissing her.

River tugged the condom off of him, tossing it rather carelessly to the floor. “I thought...sometimes I thought all the things you thought about this were just dreams. The kind that are lies.”

Wash laughed, nuzzling her. “You think I could dream up Jayne?” He kissed her softly. “Relax, River. Our dreaming days are over—no more lies, this is our life.”


.. the end.
Tags: river/wash, simple twist of fate
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