You know what gets me every time I’m watching sci-fi with my students or just binge-watching at home on a Friday night? It’s never the big explosions or the fancy CGI that has me hitting pause to text my sister about a show. It’s those quiet moments between characters who’ve got each other’s backs, the friendships that somehow feel more real than anything happening with the laser battles or time travel plots.
I mean, don’t get me wrong – I love a good space battle as much as the next person. But after years of assigning everything from *1984* to *The Hunger Games* and watching how teenagers respond to different relationships in stories, I’ve noticed something. The friendships are what stick. Not the romance, not even the main conflict half the time. It’s those moments when two characters just… get each other, you know?
Take last semester when I was showing clips from various sci-fi shows to illustrate different storytelling techniques. I threw in this scene from *Firefly* with Zoe and Wash, and suddenly half my normally-distracted juniors were paying attention. Not because anything dramatic was happening – they were literally just talking – but because there was something authentic about how they communicated. One kid afterwards was like “Miss, are they married or best friends?” and honestly, that’s exactly the point.
The thing about sci-fi friendships is they don’t get the attention they deserve. Everyone wants to analyze the romantic tension or debate who the real villain is, but these supporting relationships? They’re doing all this emotional heavy lifting that nobody talks about. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, especially since I started writing more seriously about pop culture and what resonates with audiences.
So I keep coming back to these pairs that just work, even when they’re not the main focus of their stories. Like Mulder and Scully from *The X-Files* – yeah, everyone knows about the “will they or won’t they” thing, but strip that away and you’ve still got this incredible friendship built on trust and intellectual respect. I showed my AP students that episode where Scully’s trying to track down Mulder and she looks absolutely exhausted, clutching her coffee like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, but she’s still there. Still looking for him. That’s friendship.
My students always want to debate whether Data from *Star Trek: The Next Generation* can really have friends since he’s an android, but then they see how Geordi interacts with him and suddenly it’s not a question anymore. There’s this patience in their relationship, this acceptance that Data’s different but that doesn’t make their connection less real. It’s actually kind of beautiful – Geordi never talks down to Data, never treats him like a curiosity. He just… accepts him as he is.
And okay, I have to admit I have a soft spot for the women’s friendships too, probably because they’re even more overlooked than the others. Kaylee and Inara from *Firefly* – there’s this scene where Kaylee’s feeling insecure about herself and Inara just wraps her up in this warmth that feels like watching someone get the best hug of their life. No competition, no judgment, just pure support. When I taught a unit on female representation in sci-fi, that’s the clip that made my students sit up and take notice.
The international show *Farscape* gave us John Crichton and Aeryn Sun, which starts with them being complete opposites – confused Earth guy meets competent space warrior – but evolves into this partnership where they balance each other perfectly. They face all these life-or-death situations together, and yeah there’s romantic tension, but underneath that is this solid friendship foundation. It’s like they became best friends while figuring out if they wanted to be something more.
*Killjoys* had D’Avin and John Jaqobis, and I love how the show handled their sibling relationship. Usually sci-fi siblings come with all this rivalry and resentment, but these two? They just genuinely like each other. There’s this moment when they’re trapped somewhere dangerous and instead of panicking, they start reminiscing about when they were kids. It’s such a small scene, but it tells you everything about their bond.
The Tenth Doctor and Donna Noble from *Doctor Who* – now there’s a friendship that breaks my heart every time. I’ve probably watched their episodes more than I should admit, but there’s something special about how they interact. No romantic tension, just this brilliant woman who challenges the Doctor and makes him better, and he helps her see how extraordinary she really is. When I taught a unit on character development, Donna’s arc was perfect for showing how friendship can transform people.
*The Librarians* gave us Ezekiel Jones and Cassandra Cillian – master thief meets anxious mathematician – and somehow they work. They have this playful dynamic, but when things get serious, like when Jones risks everything to save Cassandra from some magical mathematical trap, you see how much they actually care about each other. It’s friendship disguised as banter.
Kara Thrace and Helo from *Battlestar Galactica* represent something different – friendship forged in survival mode. Everything’s falling apart around them, humanity’s on the brink, but Helo never gives up on Starbuck. Even when everyone else has written her off, he’s still there. That kind of loyalty is rare in any genre, but in sci-fi it feels almost revolutionary.
And then there’s Finn and Poe from the recent *Star Wars* movies, which… look, I know the sequels are divisive, and I’ve got my own issues with some of the storytelling choices, but you cannot tell me those two don’t have amazing chemistry. Former stormtrooper meets hotshot pilot, and from their first scene together you’re thinking “please give these characters more time together.” The fans definitely picked up on it – the amount of fanfiction about them is insane.
What I find fascinating is how these friendships work differently than the main relationships in their stories. They’re not driving the plot forward usually, they’re not the source of major conflict, they’re just… there. Steady. Reliable. Which maybe is why they feel so real? In actual life, the best friendships aren’t dramatic, they’re just consistent.
Teaching teenagers has shown me how hungry young people are for authentic relationships in their stories. They can spot fake friendship dynamics immediately – they’ll call out tokenism, forced diversity, relationships that exist just to check boxes. But show them genuine connection between characters and they’re all in. They write essays about it, create fan art, debate the relationships long after we’ve moved on to the next unit.
I think these sci-fi friendships resonate because they represent something we all want – people who understand us, who stick around when things get weird, who accept our quirks without trying to change us. In sci-fi settings where everything’s strange and dangerous, having someone reliable becomes even more precious.
The fan communities around these relationships are some of the most creative and positive I’ve encountered. People write stories expanding on small moments, create art imagining conversations we never got to see, analyze every interaction for deeper meaning. It’s like they’re taking these underappreciated relationships and giving them the attention they deserved all along.
Maybe that’s why I keep coming back to these friendships in my writing and teaching. In a genre that’s often about technology and the future and big cosmic questions, these relationships ground everything in something recognizably human. They remind us that no matter how far we travel or how much things change, we still need people who get us.
So yeah, I’m that teacher whose classroom walls are covered in quotes about friendship alongside the dystopian society projects and *Hunger Games* posters. My students probably think I’m overly sentimental about fictional relationships, and they’re not wrong. But if these stories can show young people what healthy, supportive friendships look like – even in the middle of space battles and alien invasions – then I think that’s pretty valuable.
The magic of sci-fi friendships isn’t in the spectacular settings or impossible technologies. It’s in those quiet moments of understanding, the loyalty that doesn’t need explanation, the acceptance that lets people be themselves even when the universe is ending. That’s the stuff that keeps me watching, keeps me writing, keeps me believing that somewhere out there, we’re all just looking for our own version of someone who’ll have our backs when things get weird.
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