Simon was sitting in the dining area of Serenity, reading a book on philosophy that he had borrowed from Inara. He was fairly certain that this wasn't the book he had asked for – what was 'Tantra' anyway? And why did it have so many illustrations?
The ladder leading down to the cargo bay clanked at him.
He lifted his head to look at it.
The ladder was silent for a very long time. Simon was just about to continue scrutinizing a rather interesting, colorful page when the ladder giggled and whispered, "Simon."
Now he gave the ladder his full attention.
It clanked again, as though nothing at all was out of the ordinary, but he wouldn't be fooled. He was a doctor, after all. He could outwit a ladder any day.
The ladder grew brown hair, falling straight and slightly wet from a recent shower.
That, Simon admitted to himself, was rather odd behavior for a ladder.
His sister leaned forward, facing away from him, and whispered, "Simon, where are you?"
He closed the book. "I'm over here. Stop tormenting the poor, defenseless ladder."
She snaked her entire upper body around to look at him. She was smiling. "You're the one trying to outsmart it. You should stop doing that. You won't ever outsmart Her."
He shrugged and set the book down on the table. "Come here, Meimei. You'll catch a cold if you leave yourself damp like that."
River climbed up the ladder the rest of the way, a little bit too gracefully, as though she floating for some of the time. "Simon, we're breathing clean air. There aren't any germs out in space." She still sat in the chair next to his, facing away again.
He brought his hands up, running through the hair with his fingers, squeezing small sections, collecting the water in his palm before it began to run over and he let it. The hair started to twist into a braid, thick and loose, and he wondered idly if River had remembered a tie for her hair.
When the braid was half done, River said happily, "You shouldn't call me that."
"Call you what, Meimei?" he asked pleasantly, not slowing down.
"River. You say it over and over, in your head."
Simon had stopped asking her about the things she knew. "Isn't that your name?"
"No," River said with conviction.
"What's your name, then?" He had five more twists before he would have to ask River for a tie.
"You can call me Poppy, because that's what I smell like," she said, still happily, still enjoying the attention that he was giving her.
"Fine then, Poppy. Do you by chance have a tie for your hair?"
She bent her thin, liquid arm up and over at the shoulder to give it to him.
He tied off her hair, and she turned back around to him. "What now, Poppy?"
River grinned, and it didn't suit her. "Pass on a message for me." Her voice was hard, cold, and lifeless. She leaned forward and whispered, "Tell Mal that the Black is still waiting."
Hearing that weird monotone, Simon remembered something.
Poppies don't have a smell.
Amd River didn't remember anything about it, later, when Simon asked. But for now, River smelled like poppies and anything he said was going straight through.
And he wanted his Meimei back.