Firefly: Black Lacquer by DarkEmeralds

Black Lacquer (Jayne, Mal/Simon | PG13 | 2,402 words) has Jayne and Simon painting a drunken Mal's toenails. There's a sensuousness to the story, which I find surprising for something written from Jayne's point of view. It's also a nice look at a pairing that I don't normally read.

Excerpt:
Mal picked up the glass. Simon slid around behind Jayne, leaning in close to say, real quietly, "Think we'll need to hold him down?"

Jayne was confounded for a second. Gorram pretty-boy, always so uppity, always a little too close, and in them sleeping clothes he claimed not to sleep in. Then he swiped the nail polish, so quick Jayne almost didn't see it, and Jayne realized what the doc had in mind. "Nah," Jayne answered. He made a drinking motion he hoped Mal wouldn't notice. He hadn't seen the captain this drunk since the night he'd gotten himself married. Wouldn't be long before he wasn't noticing much of anything.

Simon nodded. "Jayne," he said, "I think the captain would be more comfortable over on the sofa, don't you?"

"Yeah, Mal. We're movin' to the lounge." Jayne knew Mal pretty well. Suggestions didn't go over too good with him. Jayne just picked up both their glasses and walked away.

Lord of the Rings: I Will Follow by Arachne

I Will Follow (Legolas/Gimli | G | 1,386 words) is a scene between Legolas and Gimli with Gimli contemplating the casing for Lady Galadriel's gift to him. The story feels right to me, subtle and loving with the meaning of things couched in other words.

Excerpt:
Gimli met their clear gaze for a moment and then looked away, unable or unwilling to share what his own eyes might have told. For surely he was mistaken in what he thought he saw? "I was but wandering in my mind, dreaming of jeweled housings for the gift of the Lady of Lorien."

Legolas, who had seemed strangely unsettled at Gimli's refusal to look at him now laughed, the sound brittle against the low rumble of camp. "So that is it. Such is a dwarve's pleasure - rocks and minerals and the cold perfection of stones."

Gimli did not reply. After a moment the elf brought his long legs up and folded his arms around his shin, resting his chin on his knees. "No wonder Durin's race spreads but slowly. Truly it must be hard to win the heart of such connoisseurs of beauty who seek only perfection and finding it, or the property of some other, not would rather do without than live with something less." He looked down as he spoke. Harsh words. Yet their tone seemed more bitter than scornful.