A/N: Ninth in a series of thirty for the LJ community, 30Kisses. Sorry to all who commented on the last story and didn't get a reply email. Life has been hectic lately and I was being very rude and selfish andwell, lazy. A group thank you to everyone who commented - you'll never know how much I appreciate it.
Simon was never very good at seeing things the way she does. He looked at a book and saw a book. She saw life, coursing through pages and words, calling for her to set it free and give it home in her mind. He looked at stars and saw stars. She looked at stars and saw tiny suns, too many to ever hope to count, all so far away with planets and life of their own, plantlife if not some form of sentient being because she still couldn't believe humans were the only ones out here, even if that's what all the proof says. Simon looked at Serenity and saw a ship.
She looked at Serenity and saw a home. Maybe.
But Simon likes to ruin her moods. He likes to show her the book, turn it into dead, flattened wood and synthetic ink. Turn the stars into lightbulbs you can turn on and off. Nothing more. So sometimes she'll put up a fence and block him out. Not chainlink, not wooden - it's more of a bubble, really. Covers her entirely and while she can't silence him as he tries to bring his reality into hers, she can muffle him a little.
So she does.
But she catches a few of the words. The concern on his face, the warbled tone of warningand love, too, but he's worried and scared and that brings out the protective brother in him.
She watches him from behind her fence, his image as warbled as his voice, pretending to listen, pretending to see. But she wasn't going to see. They don't see things the same way.
Simon looks at a bear and sees a bear.
River looks at a bear... and begins to see the man.