Disclaimer: Firefly and all related elements, characters and indicia © Mutant Enemy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television, 2003. All Rights Reserved. All characters and situations—save those created by the authors for use solely on this website—are copyright Mutant Enemy Productions and 20th Century Fox Television.

Author's Note: Even terrifying space monkeys can be reflective. For Tara, 'cause she asked so nicely. And she promised I'd go to heaven!

Visionary
by HawkMoth

He's dreamed of nights like this.

Well, not exactly like this. Not lying in a narrow bed in a small, spare compartment that has somehow taken on the aura of home. Not forever on the move through the black in a transport ship that's seen better days. Not carrying the total and complete responsibility for the well-being and safety of another person, the one person who always meant everything to him.

Not wondering, not for the first time, if he has love and strength enough in him for his sweet, broken sister, and the sweet, loving girl in his arms.

But there had been dreams—few and far between during the long years of pre-med and Medacad, when he was looking forward to the life mapped out for him. A secure future, a life of possibly even more standing than his parents'. A life he could share with someone he would find along the way. Someone kind and beautiful, clever and generous, who would love him and make him happy. Someone to share delights with in the dark—to touch and cherish and love in return. Infrequent though they were, those dreams had sustained him. That life ahead would one day be his own, to shape and control as he wanted.

It was a life that would never happen now, that would be his only in hopeless dreams.

Reality is this narrow bed in his cabin deep inside Serenity. Reality is Kaylee curled up against him, making little sounds of pleasure as his hands roam over her body. Nothing is more real than her soft pleas to touch her here, or there... nothing matters but the tiny shivers that ran through her as he complies.

Dreams pale in comparison to the way he feels when she touches him in return—the deft fingers of a born engineer as clever as his own, working against his skin, finding sensitive places he'd never been aware of before. In his dreams, he hadn't felt lost and found at the same time.

Kaylee slides her body along his, gently pushing him down onto his back, settling herself on top of him. Skin against skin, hot and slick from what seems like hours of touching. Her eyes are bright, her lips are warm and full as they meet his. They've kissed like this before—slow and lingering, not quite parting, snatching breaths in between the tasting, the licking, the jolt of tongues meeting.

"Simon." It's like a question, but it's not. She says it as if she can't quite believe they're together, doing this. As if she's afraid something's lurking right outside the door, or out there in the black, just waiting to take this moment, this joy, away from them.

He won't ever try to convince her otherwise, because he feels it too. The twists and turns of fate and circumstance that brought them together were fragile, improbable things. Someone to love, who would love him like this, was the very last thing he had ever thought to find in this dangerous life, on this gallant old boat.

"Kaylee." He says it firmly, almost sternly, and she smiles, her eyes crinkling in that way he so adores. She knows what he's telling her—they have each other, they have this now, and if fate wills it, it will last.

She moves again and he moves with her. Into her, taking her as she takes him. This is what the dreams promised. A joining, the sharing of souls. She is full of love, giving more than he deserves, enough to give him fresh hope and renew his strength.

He can dream of a better life, back on some safe, tame Core world, with River restored to health and sanity; no longer on the run, no longer living in fear.

Moving. Bearing down, lifting up. Two as one. This is real.

He'd rather dream that other life, than live it, if it meant giving up this. He could live without Kaylee, but it would be a life without meaning.

"Simon." She breathes his name against his skin, kissing him as she moves in just the right way and he responds with one final thrust. They are falling, soaring—it is quick, it is endless.

They are together. This is real. This is what he will hold fast to and dream of, through the long nights of whatever life lies before him.