Earning His Keep
Rated: PG
Category: Gen, Mal/Simon Friendship.
Spoilers: The Train Job.
Summary: Mal And Simon See The Price Of Something Very Differently.
Note: Written in response to the LJ prompt of 'Interest' on firefly100. 400 words.
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Dr. Simon Tam yanked hard on his suture, cinching the sterile string down snug on the wound beneath his hands.
His patient hissed but said nothing.
Simon paused for a second, then continued his work.
He tied his next stitch with even more force, but this time the wounded man stayed quiet.
A tiny shiver ran through the muscles under his fingers, though, and Simon knew he'd caused pain. Part of him was glad of that, but it took only a moment for his conscience to quell his joy.
He paused again, and this time he met his patient's eyes.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
The man in the chair shrugged and looked away. "You're angry. It happens."
Simon intended to answer that with a rationalization of how nothing made it ok for him to abuse his position by taking revenge on a patient under his care, but when he spoke he found entirely different words came.
"I have every reason to be angry! If you'd done as I said, we wouldn't be here in the middle of the night doing this for the third time! This will never heal properly now! If you'd followed my instructions, you'd barely have a scar! And don't give me any of those 'I'm the Captain' excuses! I don't want to hear it!"
Mal's eyebrows hit the ceiling. He was genuinely shocked by Simon's speech. He stared at Simon for a moment, then grunted a near laugh before finally speaking.
"Well enough. But you signed onto this boat to patch things up need patchin', and that includes me. Even if it's 'for the third time in the middle of the night.' Sorry if my activities ain't to your fancy, but they ain't like to change, so you best be getting on with things. You got a debt to pay."
Simon glared at Mal for a moment, then slowly started to suture again.
As he tied his last knot, Simon grumbled under this breath. "This better be worth a lot."
The tremble of laughter that started under his fingers told Simon his patient had heard him.
"You heard that?" he groaned.
"I did," confirmed Mal.
"And?"
Mal smiled as he pulled on his shirt and covered the now thrice-sutured wound Crow had given him.
"Son, you ain't even paid the interest."
Mal left then, but Simon heard his chuckles loud and clear for a good long while.