mtxref_fic: (Firefly/Serenity)
[personal profile] mtxref_fic
Author's Note: Written for Torchwood/Firefly, Jack Harkness/Simon Tam, not another captain



They picked up the passenger on Valentine, a cocky, grinning fellow in a long greyish blue coat, whom Mal introduced as an old comrade during the War. "Might not wear a Brown Coat now, but he was one of 'em," Mal said. "Treat 'um same as you'd treat one of us: I owe him a good deal."

"Works both ways," Harkness said, dropping Mal a wink that he noticeably did not return. "I owe you a good deal in return, Captain."

"Two captains on one ship? This ain't gonna run so well," Jayne noted.

"For once I'm with the guy with the big guns," Zoe said, regarding the newcomer with a distinct lack of being impressed.

"Oh, I wish you was, Zoe," Jayne leered.

"Bigger doesn't necessarily mean better: it's what you do with what you got that matters most," Harkness said, breaking up the potential fight, but letting his gaze roving from one to the other in ways that made Simon queasy. He had a feeling he'd be sewing up cuts from fights and setting broken noses and jaws, before this trip was out.

One jaw in particular: Mal had put their passenger up in the cabin opposite from the one Simon shared with River; it seemed every time Simon went in or out, he found Harkness lounging in the open door to his room or inside it, reclining on the bunk in what was meant to be an artful pose

A couple times, Simon found River chatting with the interloper; thankfully, despite the way he looked at everyone else, Harkness spared her that cocky look of appreciation, and kept his hands in the pocket of that coat.

"Girl with the mussy brown hair: that your sister?" Harkness asked on one of the times Simon passed him in the companionway outside their respective cabins.

"Yes, my sister River," Simon replied patiently. "And I would rather you weren't familiar with her"

"I can promise there won't be any familiarity between me and her: she's been a bit too familiar with the insides of my grey cells," Harkness replied. "I like smart girls, but mind readers are like a cold shower."

"Well, that's a weight off my mind, that you have some sense of honor, Mister Harkness," Simon replied.

"Captain Harkness, but I'd rather you called me Captain Jack," he replied, that grin and that appreciative look coming back to his grey blue eyes.

"I'd rather not be on such familiar terms with a passenger," Simon replies.

Jack reached a hand over, cupping Simon's hip gently but affectionately. "Oh, I wouldn't mind so much: you can be as familiar with me as you like, Doc," he said, warmly.

Simon slid out from under that touch, but he caught himself missing that warmth. "I only take orders from Captain Reynolds."

"Oho, I didn't know Mal had a personal physician," Jack noted, grinning, incorrigible.

At that moment, Mal came down the companionway, likely heading for his cabin, but pausing. "Somethin' goin' on here? You take it into a cabin," he said.

"No, there's nothing going on," Simon replied, hastily.

"But I'd like there to be," Jack added, grinning. "You didn't tell me this handsome fellow is your personal doc."

"My personal dwhut?" Mal demanded.
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