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sherydenTitle: Professional Appearance
Author:sheryden
Fandoms: Firefly
Rating: PG
Pairing: Slight Mal/Simon, could be read as gen
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 512
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, which is quite sad, really.
Summary: Mal decides that Simon needs to dress more like a criminal. Originally written in response to a prompt at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
comment_fic.
Author's Notes: I wrote this a while ago, but I never posted it in my journal. It's just a little drabble kind of a thing.
Mal strode through the doorway to the infirmary, his arms filled with a bundle of faded garments. He walked to the nearest bed and tossed his burden down onto the clean, white sheets. “Doctor,” he said. “I have some concerns about your professional appearance.”
Simon stared at him, his mouth open slightly. He glanced down at the bed and grimaced a little.
“Don’t worry,” Mal said. “They’re good and clean.”
“It’s hard to tell,” Simon said.
Mal ignored him and snatched up a charcoal jacket that probably used to be black at one time. “I got this for you in town,” Mal said, tossing the jacket at Simon.
“Why?”
“Like I said, I have some concerns about your professional appearance.”
“My professional… I’m a doctor.”
“You’re our doctor,” Mal said. “You’re one of us now. And I think you should look the part.”
Simon held the jacket up and made a face. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
Mal let his eyes roam over Simon, taking in his hair and his eyes and his clothes. He was a dandy, that was for sure—crisp white shirts, fancy vests, expensive shoes. Mal didn’t mind looking at him at all. But the thing was, the good doctor attracted too much attention among the locals most everywhere he went. And too much attention in their line of work wasn’t particularly welcome.
“You stick out too much,” Mal said. “Makes you a target. Try on the jacket.”
Glancing helplessly at the garment, Simon said, “I’m not sure it’s even my size.”
“That’s why you’re gonna try it on,” Mal groused. He reached out and started to unbutton Simon’s vest.
Simon moved Mal’s hand away. “I can dress myself.”
“Well, then get to dressing.”
Slowly, almost petulantly, Simon pulled off his vest and slipped on the jacket. “There. Happy?”
Mal folded his arms across his chest. “Now, isn’t that better?” He turned and scooped up a pair of pants and some well worn boots from the bed. “Got you some other stuff, too. Put ‘em on.”
Simon took the clothes from Mal’s arms, but instead of undressing, he just stood there. “I’m not taking my pants off in front of you.”
Mal cleared his throat. “I’ll turn and protect your delicate sense of modesty.”
“Thank you,” Simon said.
A couple of minutes later, Mal started to fidget. “You done yet?”
“Yes,” Simon said. “All done. And I look ridiculous.”
Mal turned and surveyed Simon’s new image. “Well, I think you look good,” he said. “We could maybe scruff your hair up a little bit, though.” When Simon rolled his eyes, Mal added, “Just think about it. What’s gonna happen the next time we’re all in town, and you walk into a local watering hole looking like this instead of like a pearly white city boy?”
Simon tugged on the bottom of the jacket. “I’ll jump out of the way as soon as some local roughneck recognizes Jayne as the one who swindled him.”
Mal smacked Simon on the shoulder. “But you’ll be more comfortable doing it!”
Author:
sherydenFandoms: Firefly
Rating: PG
Pairing: Slight Mal/Simon, could be read as gen
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 512
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, which is quite sad, really.
Summary: Mal decides that Simon needs to dress more like a criminal. Originally written in response to a prompt at
comment_fic.Author's Notes: I wrote this a while ago, but I never posted it in my journal. It's just a little drabble kind of a thing.
Mal strode through the doorway to the infirmary, his arms filled with a bundle of faded garments. He walked to the nearest bed and tossed his burden down onto the clean, white sheets. “Doctor,” he said. “I have some concerns about your professional appearance.”
Simon stared at him, his mouth open slightly. He glanced down at the bed and grimaced a little.
“Don’t worry,” Mal said. “They’re good and clean.”
“It’s hard to tell,” Simon said.
Mal ignored him and snatched up a charcoal jacket that probably used to be black at one time. “I got this for you in town,” Mal said, tossing the jacket at Simon.
“Why?”
“Like I said, I have some concerns about your professional appearance.”
“My professional… I’m a doctor.”
“You’re our doctor,” Mal said. “You’re one of us now. And I think you should look the part.”
Simon held the jacket up and made a face. “What’s wrong with the way I dress?”
Mal let his eyes roam over Simon, taking in his hair and his eyes and his clothes. He was a dandy, that was for sure—crisp white shirts, fancy vests, expensive shoes. Mal didn’t mind looking at him at all. But the thing was, the good doctor attracted too much attention among the locals most everywhere he went. And too much attention in their line of work wasn’t particularly welcome.
“You stick out too much,” Mal said. “Makes you a target. Try on the jacket.”
Glancing helplessly at the garment, Simon said, “I’m not sure it’s even my size.”
“That’s why you’re gonna try it on,” Mal groused. He reached out and started to unbutton Simon’s vest.
Simon moved Mal’s hand away. “I can dress myself.”
“Well, then get to dressing.”
Slowly, almost petulantly, Simon pulled off his vest and slipped on the jacket. “There. Happy?”
Mal folded his arms across his chest. “Now, isn’t that better?” He turned and scooped up a pair of pants and some well worn boots from the bed. “Got you some other stuff, too. Put ‘em on.”
Simon took the clothes from Mal’s arms, but instead of undressing, he just stood there. “I’m not taking my pants off in front of you.”
Mal cleared his throat. “I’ll turn and protect your delicate sense of modesty.”
“Thank you,” Simon said.
A couple of minutes later, Mal started to fidget. “You done yet?”
“Yes,” Simon said. “All done. And I look ridiculous.”
Mal turned and surveyed Simon’s new image. “Well, I think you look good,” he said. “We could maybe scruff your hair up a little bit, though.” When Simon rolled his eyes, Mal added, “Just think about it. What’s gonna happen the next time we’re all in town, and you walk into a local watering hole looking like this instead of like a pearly white city boy?”
Simon tugged on the bottom of the jacket. “I’ll jump out of the way as soon as some local roughneck recognizes Jayne as the one who swindled him.”
Mal smacked Simon on the shoulder. “But you’ll be more comfortable doing it!”
