Cadavers, or parts thereof, being stolen for use in practical jokes are practically an integral part of the Med School experience, and so it is that, with some trepidation, Kenspeckle Grouse is approaching the dissection lab at the goading of his classmates.

When he reaches, though, he finds that his task will be just a little bit more difficult than expected, because he finds that there is a long-limbed individual slouching in a folding chair within the lab, loosely holding an open bottle of whiskey by the neck.

"Hello," says the individual in a clear, high, precise kind of voice. "I'm Nye. If you're here to pick up the disembodied meat of a former human being, I am afraid that you will have to go without for the night."

Kenspeckle frowns. "You're too young to be a member of staff," he says. "Which means you're a student. Which means I could report you to a member of staff."

"And what would you report me for?" Nye asks with a brilliant smile.

"Being in the dissection lab past hours!"

"And if I had been asked to look after it?"

"Well, who would ask a student to look after the dissection lab?"

Nye nods. "So you're right. I have no reason to be here at all. All the same, no cadavers for you."

"What about part of one?"

"No." Nye grins, eyes shining in the harsh fluorescent lighting.

"Why are you so concerned about this? You've already said there's no reason for your being here. Why bother?"

"This is a great place to drink," Nye says. "Nice and quiet. Wonderful smell."

Kenspeckle looks perplexed. "You're being sarcastic, right?"

"I have no concept of sarcasm at all," Nye tells Kenspeckle honestly. "And the fact is, I like it when things are peaceful. Body parts going missing tend to make things decidedly not peaceful. You could get into lots of trouble for your misdeeds, which would be bad for your academic career, and you can't afford that, Kenspeckle Grouse, because you need to fight for every good thing that happens in your life, and trust me, these people who have taken to calling themselves your friends, they are not good things. So take my advice and walk out of here and get a good night's sleep and forget about whatever intricate practical joke you were planning to help carry out. It will be much better for you in the long run."

"How do you know so much about me?" Kenspeckle asks after a moment of gaping shock.

"Eidetic memory, plus the fact that you fascinate me. Now, I think you're going to say something about how I could get myself into some amount of trouble as well. Assuming that this is the case, I can assure you, my record could do with the hurting, and I, for one, have never needed to fight to succeed. Furthermore, I have befriended most of the staff here, particularly the ones that would get involved in this case, and the whole thing could be forgotten in a matter of hours. You, on the other hand, most certainly would not have that luxury."

Kenspeckle is quiet for a while, and then he says, "Can I have some of your whiskey?"

Nye laughs. "Sure," is the answer, and the bottle is proffered.

Kenspeckle takes a careful sip, returns the bottle and then grins, emboldened. "Thanks for all the advice," he says. "So, I fascinate you?"

"Very much so," Nye whispers, voice dropping in pitch.

"Well then," Kenspeckle says, and so they kiss, surrounded by the smell of corpses and disinfectant.

A/N: You know you've been spending too much time in the Firefly 'verse when it is actually a struggle not to write MedAcad.

~Mademise Morte, November 25, 2012.