Kaylee had always found comfort in the engine room. It was the heart of Serenity, the warm, pulsing throb of the ship. Precious life blood. She never actually slept in the room, even though she wanted to sometimes. The engine and its workings were far too noisy for that. But it was her oasis, her own special place of home on a big ship sailing alone in the vast blackness.
Not so today. Peace eluded her as she sat in her striped hammock. In one day she'd seen a dead man come back to life, and then die for real. A man who had seemed kind and honorable. Wasn't it admirable, and good, that he'd wanted to do what he did for his family? Help them off their perpetually snowy home? He'd seemed nice, seemed to like her, when they'd sat in her bunk as Wash flew her girl through narrow white canyons. Then Tracey had lost it. Hurt Wash. Hurt her. Scared her, dragging her along the catwalks, brandishing a gun and shouting horrible things at Mal and Zoe.
The rest of the crew was in the dining hall now, trying to relax, get a little something in their bellies before they landed at Tracey's family's home. But she couldn't be there. The smell of food, even the hot tea she usually enjoyed, made her stomach twist. "I'm gonna go sit with Serenity," she'd said quietly to Mal when he asked her where she was going. "I wanna be alone for a little while." He'd touched her shoulder in acknowledgement and understanding and let her go without another word.
Her eyes had met Simon's, just for a moment, before she walked out. She'd felt like she was looking in a mirror, seeing a sadness and pain in his deep blue eyes to match her own. Part of her wanted to go to him, for what reasons she didn't fully understand. But the other, stronger part of her felt too tired and weary to deal with anything or anyone right now. She just wanted her girl, and was glad Simon did not follow her when she left the room.
Shivering, Kaylee wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She pressed the button on the rust colored data stick in her hand, listening to it again. "My mom and dad, well, they deserve to know I died. You know, it's funny, we went to the war never looking to come back, but it's the real world I can't survive."
She closed her own eyes as she heard Tracey's final words. "Oh, and make sure my eyes is closed, will ya?" He was dead now, for real, and she was alive. But she felt cold inside. Numb. Like she could never get warm again.
The tea was hot, scalding even. He could feel the heat of it seeping into his fingers through the thick red mug he held in both hands. Simon looked into the steamy swirl of water, ignoring the small noises and quiet conversations happening around him in the dining room. He looked down, into the mug, seeing confusion and hurt and death.
Truth be told, he was feeling tired. Worn out from all the emotions of the past many hours since they'd picked up Tracey's body in the space station. He'd felt so good with Kaylee the other day. She was just so sweet and kind. Beautiful. They were friends. Had been for a while. But his feelings for her had grown into wanting more. Much more. Being with her made him feel happy, and cared for. She was like his own personal sun, shining its rays into all the dark places of his soul and chasing the pain away. Never before had he felt like that with any other woman. He loved the feelings that also scared him half to death.
It had taken him some effort to ask her if she wanted to explore the market with him, but seeing the light in her eyes was well worth all his nervousness. And he had, he really, really had started out well. But whenever she looked at him with those sparkly eyes and glowing smile, he was struck dumb. Literally. Usually whatever came out of his mouth after that was a mess. This time, it might just be a disaster. He'd felt a little sick when she'd looked at him and run off after he'd stuck his foot in it, yet again. And he'd felt even worse at the look she'd given him on the way back to the ship.
Things had gone from worse to, well, terrible later, when she'd given him a dirty look and called him a robot after he offered to do an autopsy on Tracey's body. Now that had stung. Really, really hurt. Dammit, he wasn't a gorram robot! He had feelings! Sometimes too many. Just because he didn't, couldn't, express them as freely as Kaylee did, didn't mean he was dead inside. God knew it tore him to pieces on almost a daily basis, dealing with the aftermath of River's time in the Academy.
He'd felt sad and angry at being called a robot. Simon even felt a lick of despair, because Kaylee had never acted quite like that before when he'd said something stupid. She'd never called him names. Never. What if she was upset enough to not want to talk to him anymore? Didn't want to at least be a friend? He didn't want that to happen. It would crush him completely to lose her.
He'd actually had the nerve to go find her in the engine room, try to make things right. Simon rubbed his face with a hand, thinking of how he'd chickened out when he saw her in there, listening to that recording. What could he say, what could he possibly do to get her to forgive him? He wanted her to give him one of the smiles he so loved to see. Any words he'd rehearsed fled his mind, and he'd made his escape without Kaylee ever knowing he was there.
It stung even more to stand by and watch her interact with Tracey. He didn't like it, not one bit. That mess of a man was just not worthy of her. What kind of person let people cut his body open to transport organs? No matter how much money it would generate and how it was intended to be used? It was appalling. Not to mention extremely dangerous.
Of course, they had something in common. The monitors for Tracey's heartbeat had rapidly increased their beeping when the man saw Kaylee for the first time. Simon could hardly blame anyone for that kind of reaction. His own body responded the exact same way to Kaylee's presence. The jump of his pulse. His body tingled all over. And the brain shut down.
His initial mistrust of Tracey had proved out later, seeing the man running around the ship with a gun, trying to take Kaylee hostage, shouting with Mal. Getting shot. Then dying. Watching parts of the drama from the cargo bay just made him feel terrified and completely useless. He couldn't help Kaylee. He couldn't handle a gun. He couldn't even fight Tracey hand to hand. Simon was totally out of his depth.
Now Tracey was dead. Cleaned up, back in the silver box he'd come in. Kaylee was alone, in the engine room. He'd heard her tell Mal she wanted to be alone for a little while. So he stayed, respecting her wishes, even though he wanted to follow her. Their eyes had met, in the moment just before she turned to leave. There was no sparkle there, no glowing smile. Just sadness and pain. The same things he was feeling.
So now he was here, in the dining room, surrounded by people. And he just felt so alone.
"Hurts." River sat next to him, speaking quietly.
"What?" he asked, puzzled. "Are you hurt, River?"
She shook her head, sipping her tea. "Hurt you," she said. "Called you a robot. That hurt. Not a robot. Acted like a boob, but not a robot." He stared at River as she looked at him kindly and patted his shoulder. "Couldn't have come for me if you didn't feel anything. Here."
Simon felt tears well in his eyes as River placed her hand lightly over his heart. He took her hand in his. "Thank you, mei-mei."
He looked up at the sudden sound of Wash's voice coming over the speakers. "We're almost there, folks. Be touching down soon. Might wanna go get warm clothes on, it's cold outside."
Grateful for the excuse to leave the room, Simon stood, pulling his sister up with him. "Let's go get ready, River."
The ramp came down, and the wind whipped in. Snow swirled around the cargo bay before the warm air in the ship pulled the flakes down to the floor and melted them.
For a moment, the snow looked mystical. A scene from a book or a movie. As Kaylee walked down the ramp to
the white ground, the cold air thrust itself at her. Even in her big warm coat, she wasn't a match against it as it pressed against her neck and shoulders and legs. She'd forgotten gloves and a scarf, a hat. Snow landed on her skin, making her feel the cold all the more deeply.
Shivering, she walked slowly over to the grieving family, her cold hand wrapped tightly around the data stick. They should have it. They should hear their son's words. She stopped in front of a grey haired woman who was sobbing, held by a taller, older man.
"He would want you to have this," Kaylee said softly, holding out the data stick.
"Thank you, miss," the man said, nodding slightly as he took it from her. "Thank you."
Kaylee bowed her head in sorrow. "You're welcome. I'm sorry. Very sorry."
She stepped back, shivering, feeling a little dizzy. Stepping carefully, slowly, Kaylee walked away from the grieving family, her boots crunching on the snow. She felt even more sad and weary than before, and it wasn't just Tracey's actions that were affecting her this way.
Kaylee wanted Simon. Just to stand by him, to know he was near, even if he didn't want to look at her. His mouth didn't work sometimes, with the things he said to her that were thoughtless and hurtful. But his eyes always did, their deep beautiful blue expressing his feelings more clearly than any words he could utter. The hurt in them when she'd called him a robot was unmistakable, but she'd hardened her heart and ignored what she saw. Kaylee knew he was not a robot, not a person with no feelings. Everyone knew that, they'd seen how he was with River. It had been her own hurt and anger that made her lash out at him like that. She knew it wasn't right to hurt others, even when they'd hurt you first.
Feeling more than a little ashamed of herself, Kaylee he kept her eyes on the ground as she walked over to him. She stood by his side in silence, as the snow fell around them. Of its own accord, her hand reached for his, their fingers twining together. His hand felt so warm, the heat of it seeping into her cold fingers. She felt her eyes fill with cold tears as his hand squeezed hers. His thumb gently rubbed her knuckles. A little comfort, unexpected. Perhaps she was forgiven.
She made his heart twist. Simon watched Kaylee walk in the snow, wrapped in her big brown coat. She was handing something to Tracey's father. The data stick. Last words from a man who really was dead now. Something the grieving parents should have.
The snow flecked her brown hair, the wetness of it glimmering in the light from the ship. He wondered suddenly where her hat was, or a scarf. Kaylee had no gloves on, either. And it was cold here. The kind of cold and damp that seeped into the bone.
He wanted her to come to him. He wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her it was all right. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for all the times he didn't think and said things that hurt her. He wanted the courage to tell her clearly and openly how she made him feel inside, how much she meant to him. Simon wanted to say so many things, but that last part most of all.
And then she was. Coming to him. He watched as she walked over to him, her head bowed slightly, her eyes on the ground. A tremor of surprise flicked through him as he felt her hand reach for his, their fingers clasped together. Her hand felt like ice in his, stiff and cold. He squeezed her hand gently, his thumb caressing her knuckles. It was all he could do now, as Shepherd Book read over Tracey. All he could do until he could help her inside the ship, where she could be warm.
The preaching was over. The boy was returned to his parents. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, the Shepherd had said. Simon felt Kaylee sway a little where she stood, still holding his hand. She shivered, hard enough for him to feel it through her thick coat and his. She leaned into him slightly as they stood together, waiting to go back to the ship.
"Are you all right, Kaylee?" he asked.
"I don't feel so good, Simon," she whispered weakly, leaning harder against him. "I'm so cold. My head aches, too."
"Okay. Come on, we'll get you warmed up." He put an arm around her shoulders and helped her walk the short distance to the ship.
Being more far more concerned with helping Kaylee than with propriety, Simon led her to his room. He kicked off his shoes, not wanting to make the floor wet.
"Can you stand while I take off your boots?" he asked her, kneeling at her feet. Kaylee gave a small nod and closed her eyes. She lifted one foot to let him remove a boot, and then the other.
He stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he led her to his bed and sat her down on the edge of it. "Your coat is all wet. Let's get you out of it." He was reminded of parents coming into the emergency room, small children in tow in winter clothes, as he helped her out of her coat. He hung it on the back of his chair and knelt before her. "Your hands are still like ice, even the one I was holding!" he exclaimed as he took them in his, rubbing them to try to warm them up.
It felt so good to be tending to her. Nice that she would let him. It gave him more hope that he was forgiven, that all was not lost between them. Simon looked up at her, giving her a small smile. He saw a small flicker of a smile on her face, but it was replaced with a look of discomfort. "Simon, do you have a sweater or somethin' I could borrow? My sweater is wet, too." He reached up to touch the back of her neck and felt the dampness at the collar.
"Of course." He got up and rifled through his drawers, finding a heavy maroon sweatshirt that was slightly big on him. It would be more than big enough for Kaylee.
"This ought to -" Simon broke off as he stood up, holding the sweatshirt. Kaylee had taken off her wet sweater and lain it over her coat. Underneath it she was wearing that sweet little shirt she'd had on earlier. The one with the tie in the front. It had an opening that showed just a tempting hint of the curve of her breasts. With little flowers and leaves in yellow and green and orange. It was just a cheap cotton top, but he'd found it charming and sexy. Now he could see a pattern on the back of it the original designer had never intended.
"Kaylee. Your shirt. The back – " he trailed off as she turned to face him, her eyes wide with sudden understanding. "Tracey's blood," she whispered hoarsely, a wild look creeping into her face. Simon stepped back, stunned, as she stripped off the top and held the back of it in front of her, staring at the red splatter. Her breath came fast and shallow, reminding him of patients having panic attacks.
"Kaylee, can you-"
"The sink," she panted. Beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead. Her face had gone a shade of white he had not seen since she was shot months ago. He felt his own panic mounting. Was she going to faint?
"There," he said, reaching his foot out to kick the panel. The sink slid out of the wall. "But you-" he broke off as she whirled around and dropped her head into the bowl, vomiting into it.
"Oh, baby," he whispered, his heart breaking over her distress. Gently he pulled her hair out of the way as her body heaved and shuddered. Simon put a hand on her upper back, softly stroking the soft, smooth skin. He hoped his hands weren't too cold, or too rough. All he wanted to do in the moment was comfort her as best he could. "It's all right," he murmured softly, wondering if she could hear him. "It's all right."
"I'm sorry," he heard her say, gasping and crying, her head still hovering over the sink. "I'm sorry."
It was possible to have two trains of thought at the same time, he found. The first was the carnal male realization that he had Kaylee here, in his room, in just her bra and jumpsuit. Half naked. It was a sweet, pretty little cream colored bra, too. He could only see the back of it, but he knew she had lovely breasts. At least, he knew he liked the curve and shape of them. Simon hadn't been able to help himself from looking, not when Kaylee wore those colorful fitted tops and tanks he liked. And that was exactly what she needed right now. Him getting aroused as she threw up her pain. He shook his head in disgust at himself.
The second and far more powerful thought, the one that didn't make him feel like a dirty lech, was seeing her sick and hurting. Watching her suffer, feeling the muscles in her back contract as she was sick. It was like being punched in the gut. What was proper in his prior life and training didn't matter anymore. What was proper in this moment was to comfort Kaylee, to help her however he could.
She hated throwing up. It was nasty, so disgusting, the burning feeling ripping up her body into her throat and mouth. Kaylee trembled as she braced herself over the sink, shuddering and heaving up her pain. She was already weak and tired. Holding herself up was starting to take all the strength she had left in the day.
Through her distress she could feel Simon's soft hands holding her hair away from the mess, stroking her back gently. He was saying something quietly, something she needed to hear. "It's all right," she could hear him repeat gently. "It's all right."
But it wasn't quite all right. She was still cold. Her shirt, that lovely little shirt, was ruined. She could never wear it again, no matter if the blood washed out completely and it was white as new.
And she was embarrassed. Simon was a doctor. He'd seen people sick before. But she didn't want to be like this in front of him. Weak. Puking in his sink. Making his room smell rotten. He was being gentle, but he must be so grossed out by her right now. "I'm sorry," she whimpered, not knowing if he could hear her. "I'm sorry."
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she realized she was done. She had nothing to throw up any more. Kaylee remained over the sink, crying softly, slowly washing the muck out of her mouth. The cool water felt good, soothing the acid burn, cooling the pain.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. It was too much to hold herself up, to hang on to the sink anymore. She dropped to her knees, resting her head on the edge of the sink, trying to breathe.
"Kaylee!" Simon exclaimed as he felt her suddenly fall to the floor. "Kaylee." She seemed unhurt, perhaps just too weak to hold herself up anymore. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"
"I'm just tired, Simon," she said heavily. He could hear tears in her voice. "Tired. Still cold. I'm sorry."
"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he said firmly, picking her up and carrying her to the bed. "Nothing at all." He sat her down on the edge of it and grabbed his sweatshirt. Smiling a little to himself, he gently pulled it over her head and helped her with the arms. "Hopefully that's a little better," he said, tugging the bottom of the shirt over her torso.
He just melted into a puddle as she lifted her face to his. Her eyes were wet and pink from crying, her face pale and a little puffy. Simon thought she had never looked more beautiful. "Thank you," she said quietly.
All he wanted to do right now was to hold her in his arms. Simon crawled onto the bed, leaning his back against the wall. He pulled Kaylee gently onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Sighing in relief and pleasure, he felt her start to relax against him, her head nestling into his shoulder. Her arms wrapped around him, one small hand resting on his chest. They sat there together in comfort for a while, holding each other, the only sound in the room their breathing.
"I'm sorry, Simon," Kaylee murmured, breaking the silence. He could feel her hands clutching the fabric of his shirt tightly. Her body had tensed up a little in his hands.
"Kaylee, what do you have to be sorry about?" Puzzled by her apologies, he ran a hand down her head, over her hair, playing with the soft brown strands. "It's okay to be sick. It's okay to be sad."
"I don't like being sick like that in front of you, it's embarrassin'. I must look a mess, and prob'ly smell nasty too."
Simon smiled at her admission and squeezed her carefully. Pulling her hair away from her face, he pressed a few light, soft kisses to her cheek. He grinned to himself as he felt her squirm in his arms and heard her give a squeak of surprise.
"I only smell engine grease and that strawberry lotion of yours." He put his face in her hair and slowly breathed in the scent of her. "But I've got something that might make your mouth feel better." Rustling in his pants pocket, Simon pulled out a small tin of his favored cinnamon drops.
"Would you like one?" he asked, handing the tin to Kaylee. He smiled softly, watching as she opened the tin and put a candy in her mouth. "Thank you," he heard her murmur, as she lay back against him.
He loved the feel of her in his arms. This was something he'd dreamed of for months. Now that he had it, he never wanted to let her go. Absently, he ran his hand slowly up and down her back. "And as far as how you look – your eyes are beautiful. Even red from crying, they're beautiful." Simon paused, thinking of the cow fetus. "That's part of what I wanted to say the other day, but messed up. I'm sorry. Sorry I hurt you."
Kaylee leaned back to look up at him. He could see confusion, surprise, and pleasure in her gaze. And those eyes of hers were starting to have that mesmerizing effect again. "I hurt you too, Simon. When I called you a robot. I was angry from before, but that's no excuse. It wasn't right, or true. I'm sorry."
"I think we forgive each other," he said quietly, looking into her eyes.
"Yeah, I think we do." She was gently rubbing his chest with her hand. It was slightly distracting. Simon swallowed. "Um, there's something I need your help with."
"Now? Gosh Simon, I'm so tired, I can't think of movin'."
Simon chuckled a little at her reaction. "It's not what you think. You know I sometimes really mess up telling you - things. It's hard for me, sometimes I look at you and my brain just stops working. I'll try to do better." His voice turned more serious. "It would mean a lot to me if you could, uh, try to help me. Like not running away when I screw up." He frowned at the look on her face. "What?"
"I didn't know that. That's so sweet," she cooed weakly at him.
"What's so sweet?" She was smiling, so it wasn't that he'd messed up again.
"What you said. 'Sometimes I look at you and my brain just stops workin'.' That's so sweet. Wish I'd known that before." Simon felt his body tingle a little as Kaylee reached up to kiss his cheek, then leaned against him and rested her head where his neck met his shoulder. "Of course I'll help."
"Thank you." A part of him wanted to kiss her, deeply, passionately, for what she said. But she seemed too tired for that kind of make out session. He was even feeling a bit tired for that. There was always tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, now that they had apologized and made up, so to speak.
"This is real nice," he heard her murmur after a few minutes of silence, feeling her snuggle into him.
He smiled and held her closer, sighing deeply in contentment. "I think it's much better than nice."
"Mmmmm," she replied. Simon could feel her body relaxing even more, like she was going to fall asleep soon. Was it proper to let her sleep here? He could carry her to her bunk entrance, but he didn't think he could get them both down the ladder without minor mishap or injury. No, it was safer to let her have his bed. He would take the other blanket and bunk on the common area sofa.
"Let's get you tucked in, honey." He laid her on her back in his bed and pulled a blanket over her. Kaylee looked so beautiful and peaceful as she lay there, eyes closed, her hair spread out on his pillows. He felt such an urge to curl up next to her, to sleep with his face pressed to her neck. It was so difficult to ignore the pull of her. Simon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, hard. "Sleep tight," he said softly, as he bent to press a light kiss to her lips. She did not stir as he took the other blanket and left the room, closing the door behind him.
She was warm. Too warm, truth be told. Kaylee twisted in her blankets, feeling slightly sweaty. She sat up suddenly, clutching the blanket to her chest, looking around the dark room in confusion.
This wasn't her room. This wasn't her bunk. These weren't her things. The scents in this room weren't hers.
This was Simon's room. Simon's bunk. She was wearing his sweatshirt. His things. She was in Simon's bed, resting her head on his pillow, sleeping under his blanket. But the man himself was not here. She wondered where he was.
Groggily she stood up, wrapping the blanket around her. Kaylee frowned as she felt the thick material of her jumpsuit bunched around her calves. It must have slid down while she was twisting in her sleep from being too hot. She pulled the suit up and tied the arms around her waist.
She shuffled to the door and opened it, looking out. And could see a very familiar figure on the couch in the common area, stretched out. Appearing to be sleep.
Quietly Kaylee walked over to Simon, smiling. Remembering. He'd been so sweet and comforting earlier. Taking care of her, helping her when she was sick and cold. It had felt so good to be in his arms, the strength of him protecting her. Simon had warmed her from the outside in, with his words and actions. And then he'd fallen back to his proper ways by coming out here to sleep and letting her have his nice warm bunk to herself. As much as those appropriate behaviors had irritated her in the past, she wasn't angry with him now. Far from it.
He was lying on his side on the couch, his back pressed against it, facing out. The blanket covered him but Kaylee could tell he was cold. He was curled up into a ball, his hands tucked under his chin. She sat next to him on the very edge of the couch, watching him sleep. He seemed restless, twisting a bit.
Gently Kaylee traced a finger down his cheek to his lips and chin. She'd never touched him like that before, except for just a few hours earlier. But she'd wanted to, many, many times. His skin was soft under her rough fingers. Finding she wanted to touch him more, Kaylee brushed her fingers through his hair.
"Kaylee?" Simon's eyes were open but foggy from sleep. She heard him sigh a little. "That feels nice, what you're doing."
She smiled as she continued to stroke his head. "What are you doing out here, Simon?" she whispered softly.
"Sleeping," he mumbled, eyes fluttering tiredly.
"Being proper, I think." She bent her head and kissed the tip of his nose.
"Yes. Proper."
"It's cold out here. Please come back with me." Kaylee took one of his hands in hers. It was quite cool to the touch. "You're cold. We'll just sleep, that's all. Please come." She wouldn't beg him, and she wouldn't be mad and stomp off if he said no. She wouldn't.
Simon sat up, rubbing his eyes with his hands. Kaylee wondered what he was thinking, or if he was too tired to think. "Okay," he said finally, looking at her with a small grin. "Okay. I really wanted to stay with you anyway. You looked so beautiful and peaceful when you were sleeping."
Kaylee smiled shyly at his admission. "Come." She stood and pulled him to his feet.
Together they walked back to his bunk and crawled into Simon's bed. Kaylee lay under the blankets, facing Simon in the dark of the room, her head resting on her hands. She jerked a little as she felt Simon scoot closer to her and take one of her hands in his. Then, to her surprise, he moved even closer and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
"Good night, Kaylee."
She smiled sleepily to herself. "Sweet dreams, Simon."
Warm fingers linked, they closed their eyes and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.