Mal, Serenity, the borders of a person.

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Written, oh, September 2005, and basically my statement of why it's not Mal/Serenity but Mal=Serenity.

Free for all ages.

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Proxy

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She's an embrace for the unwavering strength at your side that holds the blame for your sanity. An everlasting promise that no matter where and no matter what, you're at home with one another.

She needs others for the things you can't do and she makes the room for dinosaurs and change and lightness of heart.

She steadies and improves under the guileless love of a girl who sees nothing that cannot be made better.

She gives a part of herself for the price of greater possibilities. Exotic grace trails the suggestion of pleasure over every cold metal surface.

She has the bunk space to spare for a calculated risk when you need to be pragmatic in a world ruled by muscle and guns over reason.

She houses the echoes of broken idols who corner you every now and then with uncomfortable questions.

She is the only option for the brave and stupid, and her hull provides an ever moving shelter because it is in her power to do the right thing.

She is haunted by a broken mind who sees everything and recognizes that you cannot divide Serenity between within and without.

You didn't draw lines when you scraped each other off the ground and started building.

When they love your ship, you feel it for her.

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