Course: Firefly Meta-Fic 101
Lesson #1: Mal/Simon, Story Formula 1.0
Mal: Fancy meeting you here in the galley in the middle of the night, Doc. Say, does now seem like a good time for us to make out?
Simon: What? Just because two people on the same ship suffer from insomnia and meet in the middle of the night with no one else around to distract us, doesn't mean that I'm having thoughts about your rugged, sexy hands all over my body-- :pause: Did I just say that?
Simon: I'm sorry, I--
Mal:puts a hand on Simon's arm: It's okay. I know why you can't sleep. You have terrible dreams when you do because of the stress put on you by the burden of caring for your crazy sister, abandoning your wealthy life to become a fugitive, and feeling like you don't fit in on Serenity.
Simon:shocked: How do you know all that? I'm an introverted independent type who takes everything on himself and is slowly falling apart but will never ask for help.
Mal: Because I'm an introverted independent type who takes everything on himself and is slowly falling apart but will never ask for help.
Simon: Wow. We're like... soulmates.
Mal: But you don't know that yet.
Simon: Right. Um. But if neither one of us will ask for help, then how--
Mal: So glad you asked. :kisses him:
Simon: How strange. I don't know why, but suddenly I feel as if I've been waiting forever for you to kiss me.
Mal: Shut up and make with the cock-sucking, 'kay?
(cut to Mal's bunk; insert incredibly hot man-sex here, complete with earth-shattering, mind-blowing orgasms and lots of sticky body fluids)
Simon: Well, um, I guess I should go back to my room, alone, even though I want to stay here with you, cuddled in your arms crying out all my sorrows against your big, strong, manly shoulder.
Mal: Nope. You can't leave.
Mal: Because then I'll truly be the asshole Captain I was painted to be earlier in the story and you'll never know about my softer side. :beat: Plus, it's in the plot.
Simon: What plot?
Mal: All of them.
Simon: Um, okay, if you're sure...
(insert tender scene of Mal wrapping an arm around Simon and cuddling up close, covering Simon sweetly with his blanket)
Simon: Wow. It's morning. Hey! I didn't have any bad dreams!
Mal: Me neither. See? But don't go getting your hopes up yet, because we still have to go through the angsty 'Does Mal really care about me or is he just helping me out with incredibly hot man-sex on the side?' bit.
Simon: Why is this all so complicated?
Mal: We're written by women.
Simon: Oh. Well, then I guess I should be going...
Mal: You okay, Doc?
Simon: Yes. I just have this inexplicable urge to wait another minute so that Kaylee or Inara can be passing by just in time to see me leaving your bunk all disheveled and sticky.
Mal: Oh yeah! Here, don't forget to wear some of my clothing. It makes our lusty man-sex acts painfully apparent to anyone who sees you, plus it's all sweet and sentimental-like.
Simon: Great. So what do we do next?
Mal: I'll go around acting like everything is normal and we'll have hot, randy, emotionally confusing man sex at least two more times.
Simon: While I'll think you're just screwing me because I'm on your crew and need sex-fixing so I don't fall apart.
Mal: I'll be emotionally closed and laconic until some event transpires that forces me to confront my feelings.
Simon: And I'll lament because you'll never let me comfort you the way you've comforted me.
Mal: Sounds like a plan!
(days pass in the tune of 'Does Mal really care about me or is he just helping me out with incredibly hot man sex on the side?' and 'Mal slowly realizing how much he cares about Simon but only possibly letting it show in the smallest of ways and probably not at all until a random event transpires that forces Mal to confront his feelings'.)
Mal: You're more than just a screw to me, Simon.
Simon: I know. We fix each other through sex and cuddling. The only time we both don't have nightmares is when we're together. We're kindred spirits. Soulmates.
Simon: You're still way too laconic.
Mal: Well if I say more than that I'll be destroying my tough, cowboy-guy image. I've got a contract. Sorry.
Simon: And that's why you'll never tell me you love me, even though it's painfully obvious in your every word and action. But you don't need to say it, because I already know.
Mal: Now that's almost poetical, it is. Come here so I can make sweet love to you and we can both fall asleep with blissful smiles on our faces and our audience can leave feelin' all tender and happy-like.
Simon: And then we live happily ever after?
Mal:nods: Unless... Ah, gorramit!
Sometimes, my brain feels like a Twinkie. A half-eaten Twinkie with NO filling and pieces of melted plastic wrapper all stuck to it.
ETA: No offense to slash writers intended. This was written with great love for the genre. Buddha knows I've read enough Mal/Simon to make the special hell seem like a step up for my soul, and I love this formula. But after noticing the prevalence of this particular story pattern, Mal and Simon just wouldn't shut up in my head :)