Kaylee

She watched the doctor fuss at his crazy sister and sighed. It was sweet, the way he worried over the girl, really it was, but sometimes she wished he'd take a moment to see someone else, anyone else, maybe fuss at them for a change. Aw, who was she kidding, she wished he'd see her. She'd noticed him the first second she saw him, all proper and civilized, honorable, gorgeous—and oblivious. He'd never seen, never understood her laughing glances, her shy smiles, her 'accidental' brushes. Did a girl have to get shot or have brain damage to deserve his attention? It was almost enough to make her wish she'd get shot again, so he'd have to take notice. There'd been a moment or two when he seemed to notice her, to see she was alive and female and willing…and always something happened, something interrupted.

Sometimes he interrupted, saying she was the only girl in his world like she'd be glad of it, like it was a compliment. But the moments before that, when he'd laughed and said she had nice eyes, when their arms had brushed and their finger touched, almost made it worth the insult.

Sometimes others interrupted, the Shepherd passing suddenly and cluelessly through the corridor as their bodies, their lips, yearned towards one another, wavering, wanting, on the brink—until they both drew back, hesitant, embarrassed, and went their own ways.

Sometimes circumstances interrupted, in Canton they'd been drunk together, casual, heads lolling onto each others' shoulders, telling stories of happier, simpler times. They'd been like friends, comfortable, touching meaninglessly, although it had been oh, so meaningful to her. What if they'd had just a little bit less to drink, she wondered, what could have happened then…

"You know, I've saved lives. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. I reattached a girl's leg. Her whole leg. She named her hamster after me. I got a hamster. He drops a box of money, he gets a town." His hair tousled and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, he spoke with the careful clarity of the drunk who has not admitted his drunkenness. Even in his childish anger, he was more citified than anyone else there, but he still looked as though he'd been drinking- or been pulled away from a lady-friend just as things got heated.

"Hamsters is nice." She barely remembered to reply, she was so distracted by the sight of just the slightest bit of his chest. It looked like a NICE chest, at that.

"To Jayne! The box-dropping, man-ape-gone-wrong thing."

"You are pretty funny." Pretty perfect, she meant. Pretty civilized, pretty educated, pretty rich, pretty far out of her reach—but too pretty not to reach for.

"And you're pretty...pretty." His smile lit the bar, transformed him from merely pretty to something so far beyond she couldn't even name it. She was so transfixed by the change that she nearly failed to hear what he'd said.

"What did you just say?" She couldn't believe it, he'd called her pretty, SIMON, who'd had his pick of the beauties on a central planet, had called HER pretty. Perhaps she was daydreaming, more vividly than ever before, but perhaps, just perhaps it was true…

"I just said that you're pretty. Even when you're covered in engine grease, you're... No, especially—especially when you're covered in engine grease." She melted, right then and there, melted into a little puddle on the bar floor. He liked her in engine grease? Maybe she should offer to let him see her in something els—

"It's time to get out of this nuthouse." Mal's sudden words startled her "Got some planning to work out."

"Now, Captain? Things are going so well." She had no intention of leaving, not when the doc has just called her pretty, especially not when they were nearly alone at their end of the bar, far away from Jayne and his adoring public.

"I suppose. Jayne's certainly feeling better about life, but..."

"I said, things are going WELL." She nodded toward the doctor meaningfully. Even her Cap'n knew she had a thing for Simon, only the doc himself was blind enough not to notice, and surely Mal couldn't be mean enough to drag them away.

"Oh, WELL." It almost seemed as though Mal sighed, or perhaps laughed, but he understood, and he didn't want to deny her anything within his power that would make her happy. "Well, I tell you what. Jayne is stuck here with his adoring masses—why don't you and Simon hang around and keep an eye on him for me?"

Kaylee grinned. Simon had called her pretty, and the rest of the crew had left them alone. She turned back to the doctor and settled herself onto his reclining chest, 'aimlessly' playing with the next button. "You think I'm pretty in engine grease?" she asked hopefully.

"Hmmmm?" He asked. "oh, yes." His hands, at a loss for what to do, almost instinctively moved to her back as she rested on him, and began to gently, unconsciously, trace patterns up and down her spine, patterns that left fire behind. She shivered at the feeling, her fingers spread across his still covered chest curving inward and then releasing, beginning to move aimlessly there, stopping only when caught on his buttons. She stared at those buttons, at her hands tracing nothings on him, grazing his stomach lightly, feeling him tense and tighten and shiver. She looked up at him with eyes that were both hopeful and clouded with passion, meeting his eyes, dark and startled and wanting. "Kaylee?" he asked, almost pleading, and in response she leaned forward and kissed him, gently at first, seeking entrance with her tongue, gently nibbling on his lower lip, but then more passionately as his hands stopped their aimless tracing and pulled her into him hard and fast, tongues dueling, sweat forming, nearly unable to think for the heat. She turned as he lifted slightly, and she found herself sitting astride his reclining form, center to center, heat to heat. One hand slid down past her back to pull her more firmly into him, and she gasped as his hardness pressed where she wanted it most, while his other hand moved to her aching breast, massaging her firmly. He pulled away slightly to unzip her coverall, although one hand still held her close, and rocked her against him. Then he was tracing the outline of her through the thin material of her tank top, smiling that heart-stopping smile as she shivered and shuddered because of him. "Kaylee" he said, sure now, and sat up, pulling her back to him and kissing her until she forgot where they were, forgot everything but the feeling of his lips on hers and of his hands, gloriously hot, moving under her top now, pinching the swollen buds lightly, pulling the fabric up as she struggled with the buttons on his shirt, needing to remove even that thin layer separating them. "Simon" she moaned, as she succeeded, as his shirt fell away to join hers, as she felt his hair and his muscles and his sweat against her, wanting more, wanting nakedness and solitude. Their breath mingled, their noses rubbed, and then Kaylee began to kiss her way down his chest, tasting the flavor of Simon, stopping to nibble, to dip her tongue into his belly button, making him laugh briefly before she began to trace her way lower, on to his flat stomach towards the buttons on his trousers where she grinned to herself. Making him shudder and gasp, her hand slid lightly across the front of his trousers, skimming his —

Kaylee shook herself out of her reverie with a gasp. River was coming out of the infirmary, poor girl shouldn't have to listen to anyone thinking on her brother that way, although she didn't much want the poor girl to listen to anything in her head, that was more than a little unnerving. Nearly as unnerving as it was when River stopped right next to her, cocked her head slightly, and then turned to stick her head around the infirmary doorframe and say "and Kaylee wants you" before grinning at her and wandering away. What was she gonna say to him now?