Author's Note: I'm sorry this took so long to get up. I was waiting for a beta read which I finally had to give up on. If I ever do get the beta I'll post corrections for all of you who can't stand to read text with misspelled words and grammatical foux-pas.

Chapter 24: Which starts naughty and ends nice

"Ting ju," Kaylee muttered.

"What?" Simon gasped as he jerked back obediently.

"We need to stop," Kaylee said, rolling of the good doctor, leaving them both more than a little cold.

"Ah," Simon said after a moment. He was trying not to sound as frustrated as he was, Kaylee figured, which was why his voice was trembling like it was. It was a sort of tremble Kaylee recognized very well, and usually she brought it about by a fairly sadistic desire to make her lover squirm. But this time her motives were somewhat more noble, so instead of feeling a sort of superior satisfaction all she felt was sorry for poor Simon and a little frustrated herself.

"Did I . .. . ?" Simon stuttered. "I mean, I didn't . . ."

"Didn't do nothin' wrong," Kaylee said, trying just like Simon to make her voice sound light and normal. "But if we don't stop now, we ain't gonna stop."

"Do you want to stop?"

"No."

"Oh, then . . . then I'm confused."

"Just," Kaylee said, swallowing hard and trying to think of the right words to explain her feelings to the boy beside her and convince him they were doing the right thing. This task seemed particularly hard considering Kaylee hadn't really convinced herself. She longed to roll over, back on top of Simon and let him wrap his arms around her, all gentle and protective, and his heart beating under her. But this was a time for self-control. "I been thinkin', 'bout what you said back at the picnic."

"Kaylee, what I said . . ."

"And I see what you mean," the girl continued quickly before Simon could talk her out of agreeing with him. "With other boys it . . . well, you're special, Simon, ya mean a lot ta me and I kinda want .. . . if we did this I'd want it ta mean something,' like you said. I'd want it to be somethin' special not just another roll in the hay."

Simon laughed, short and clipped but full of actual humor; it made Kaylee smile. He reached out and started picking little bits of tawny straw out of her hair. "You know," he said, the frustration easing out of his voice as amusement took its place. "I always assumed the term 'roll in the hay' was a euphemism."

"Well," Kaylee said, "Ya learn somethin' new every day."

They were in her father's barn, tucked away in the hayloft. It was a place Kaylee knew well. Growing up, her older siblings would always be up there, having hay fights or building forts or, on occasion, rolling in the hay themselves. She hadn't been allowed up there until she was twelve, and considered generally smart enough and coordinated enough not to fall off. She had fallen off the loft, of course, when she was 14 in the middle of a ruckus hay fight, but thankfully she'd fallen into the manure pile and the worse that had come of it was a little teasing and a long bath.

The hayloft had always been a place of mystery and excitement for Kaylee. The first time she'd climbed up the ladder, she'd gotten a huge thrill, and she'd felt a similar, albeit smaller, thrill every successive ascension. Still, she'd never taken a boy up there; she didn't want to ruin the lofts playful, exciting atmosphere with tainted memories of some guy who'd turned into a jerk. Besides, there were dozens of places just as suited, if not more so, for little trysts all around town.

But Simon was special, Kaylee'd thought, as she led him out of the rain and into the barn. He was different from any boy she'd ever meet before. When he looked at her, she buzzed with curiosity, dying to know what was going on behind his blue-gray eyes. When he said her name, it sounded new and fresh, beautiful and elegant. When he touched her, her whole body felt warm. When he smiled at her, nothing else seemed to matter. He could make her feel like a woman and like a little girl at the same time, she didn't understand it, but she loved it.

Simon, in the past few days, had suffered a bombardment of horrible things. Kaylee wasn't sure exactly what form those things took, but she knew Simon well enough to know that he tried to bury his sorrows and press on with tenacious good humor. The fact that he'd allowed himself to wander off and sulk told her that whatever had happened in that villa was beyond the pale as far as the boy's emotions were concerned. She couldn't make it better; she knew that. She couldn't make the fact that he'd left his mother and father, probably forever, go away. She couldn't give back what he'd lost and she couldn't fill that emptiness that he felt. But she could distract him, maybe let him know that someone, at least, loved him. And part of that, Kaylee reasoned, was not going all the way, keeping their relationship, as a whole, separate from every other relationship she'd ever had, keeping it special.

"Are you cold?" Simon asked, his hand had drifted from her hair to the nape of her neck and his thumb was running up and down her jaw.

"A little," she admitted. "You?"

"A little," he admitted.

Kaylee smiled, she could feel her cheeks reddening. "Well," she told him. "Don't suppose if I came any closer you'd jump me."

"Oh," Simon chuckled, looking innocently heavenward. "I would never. Not with you."

"Dr. Tam,' Kaylee laughed. "Did you just joke?"

Simon nodded, rustling the hay as he moved his head.

Kaylee scooted a little closer, so that they were lying side by side, facing each other. She would have only have had to tilted her head upward slightly and they would have been kissing. But she wasn't going to do that. And, as Simon wrapped his arms around her, she reveled in the fact that he wasn't going to tilt his head down. It was such a comfortable feeling, to know that he wouldn't push, wouldn't try anything, and wouldn't ruin anything. He respected her, unlike Henderson and his ilk. He wouldn't have done this with just anyone, again unlike Henderson. He thought that this sort of fooling around was more than just fooling around, unlike Henderson. He thought of her as more than just a pretty girl, unlike Henderson. He though a host of wonderful things, unlike Henderson or anyone else from little Sweet Well.

"I like this," She said, nuzzling a little closer to him. "This feels right."

"Yeah," he answered, she could feel his hand stroking her hopelessly hay-filled hair. "This is nice."

"You feel better?"

"Not .. . ." Simon said tentatively. "Not really."

"Oh," Kaylee said, sinking slightly away from him.

The clever doctor must have figured out he said something vastly wrong, because he quickly amended the statement. "Kaylee, I . . . what you do for me, all you do for me, don't think I don't . . . don't think it doesn't mean anything--that I don't appreciate it."

"I don't think that," Kaylee said, not really lying but not really being honest.

"Because I do," Simon said. "Every laugh, every smile, every touch . . . I value. I know what you're trying to do for me and . . . and even if you can't make me feel better, I can't tell you how much it means that you care enough to try."

"Still," Kaylee muttered dejectedly. "Ain't really helpin'."

"No," Simon said. "Don't . . . that's not what I'm trying to say."

Kaylee shifted, so she could look him in the eyes expectantly. "What are you trying to say?" she asked with a whisper.

"I'm .. . ." Simon started, he was breathing heavily and blinking furiously. She could tell that he was yearning to lean forward those three short inches and kiss her. She pressed her lips tightly together, as much to discourage him as remind herself that kissing at this point wouldn't solve any problems. "I'm trying to tell you that, when I'm with you, all my problems, and trauma and grief . . . everything that's dark in my life, you outshine."

Kaylee's tightly pursed lips melted into a smile as her eyes drifted down away from his and she could feel a hot blush spreading across her cheeks.

"That smile just. . ." he said softly, his voice trailing off.

Kaylee looked back up at him with a coy twinkle in her eye. "Just what?"

Simon took a deep breath and focused his attention slightly to Kaylee's left, over her shoulder, into the general darkness of the barn. "Just," he said. "There was this girl . . ."

"A girl?" Kaylee asked.

If Simon noticed how uneasy her voice was, he didn't let it bother him. He nodded and continued with his story. "She was in my class at medacade. She was smart enough, I guess, although, I think she graduated near the bottom of the class. I can't remember her name, Jessie, maybe, or Kelsey, anyways the point is, it was well known that she only went to school so she could meet and marry a doctor."

"Fah biow, " Kaylee laughed, a little relieved that this was not a story about a former lover.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Although, to be fair she did accomplish her goal. I'm pretty sure she was married two weeks after graduation, I don't even think she had a residency."

"How interesting," Kaylee said.

Simon blinked and returned to the conversation, "I mention her because I remember our second year, the friday after finales second term, we all decided to go to the beach. We had a cookout with swimming and kites and a water balloon fight . . ."

"Sounds fun."

"It was," Simon said, less than convincingly. "But she was lying on the beach tanning."

"You threw a balloon at her, didn't you."

"It wasn't me," Simon said, earnestly. Then, slipping into a smile, added "I did laugh, though."

Kaylee giggled.

"She yelled at us, all of us. And we were sort of drunk so that just made us laugh harder."

"And I always thought doctors were so sober."

Simon laughed, "Not if they don't have to be."

"Is that the story?" Kaylee asked. "That you got yelled at by a biao zi?"

"No," Simon said, shaking his head and smiling. "No. The story is that someone, I'm not sure who, although I suppose it doesn't really matter . . . well, someone asked her why she never smiled and I hadn't noticed it until that day, but it was true. She was very beautiful, I mean, in the classical sense, but she never . . . never smiled."

"She tell you why not?"

Simon nodded, "She said she didn't want to get yu way wen"

"Kai wan shiau, " Kaylee laughed.

"No," Simon said, chuckling, but not really laughing. "Really, it's true."

"She didn't smile 'cause she didn't want crows feet round her eyes?"

"That's what she said," Simon nodded. "And I, after I heart that, she just, she never seemed pretty anymore. I always imagined her as this drab old lady who looked mean and aged too fast because she never smiled."

"Why you tellin' me this?"

"You always smile," Simon said with a warm voice. He shifted a little in the hay and moved his arm so his hand cupped her chin instead of playing with the end of her straw riddled hair. He stroked the corner of her left eye with his thumb and had a sort of dreamy look on his face. "When you're old, you'll have the most beautiful fish tails, and wrinkles around your smile."

"You like that?" Kaylee asked.

Simon smiled back at her. "I like you," he said simply. "And I can't imagine not liking what you're going to be."

"That's the prettiest thing anyone's ever told me," Kaylee giggled. She didn't want to giggle, she wanted to be sophisticated and composed she wanted to be like one of those ladies at the ball on Persephone, the kind of ladies she assumed he was used to, the kind of lady she assumed he'd want.

"You're always laughing," Simon said with admiration.

"That ain't true," Kaylee said modestly.

"It's true enough," Simon said.

"Well," Kaylee said not quite philosophically. "It's nice to laugh and smile." She nestled herself a little closer to him, so that her ear was right next to his heart, and she heard its almost hypnotizing pitapation. "Wish you'd do it more."

"I try," Simon said with a slightly apologetic and completely defenseless tone. "But these last months . . . from the time I left Osiris until, well, until today I didn't . . . I couldn't see straight. I kept looking over my shoulder, at what had been." she felt him turn his head away from her so he could look at the darkness between them and the barn roof. "I wanted to go back."

"And now you don't?" Kaylee said, trying to make her voice sound more compassionate than hopeful.

"I won't lie and say there aren't thing's I'll always miss," Simon said. "But, when I look at you, I realize there are things I have on Serenity that I never could have had in the Core. I . . .. don't think I'm grateful, really, that River was . . . what I mean is I once told you that the hospital was my home."

"I remember."

"Compared to life on Serenity, the hospital seems, I don't know, flat."

"Flat?"

"I do miss working with patients," Simon admitted. "But, while a good doctors are not necessarily a dime a dozen, they could get a qualified replacement for me in a heartbeat." Kaylee couldn't help but smile as she heard a soft and steady wub-thud.

"But I'm needed on Serenity," Simon continued, his voice was filled with a kind of wonder, as if all this was somehow a revelation to him. "I mean, even if I don't consider the fact that River needs me, among the crew I'm still irreplaceable. I've saved lives--no one else could have done that."

"Saved me," Kaylee interjected warmly.

"First but not least," Simon said leaning his head slightly forward so that he was talking more or less into her straw-matted hair. It wasn't really like he was kissing her, but considering the circumstances it was close enough. "I can't imagine," he continued distractedly. "I don't think I would have been able to survive these past few months without you."

Kaylee hadn't expected that, her voice caught in her throat. After what seemed like an awkwardly long time she was finally able to stutter, "What, wha'da'ya mean?"

"There were times," Simon said, hesitating only a little. "Short bouts of self-pity and depression. The whole 'verse seemd dark, bleak, black."

"It mostly is black," Kaylee told him.

She felt more than heard him laugh. "Still," he said. "On those dark days, you brought color to my life."

"Color?" Kaylee asked, flattered.

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Hum," Kaylee muttered "That's real sweet. Kinda like, did you ever see that old flick 'The Wizard of Oz'?"

"No, but I read the book to River when she was seven."

"It's a book?" Kaylee said, a little surprised.

"Yeah," Simon said. "Although, I'm not really sure why they call it children's literature. It has more blood and violence in it than Shan Yu."

"I don't think we're talkin' 'bout the same story," Kaylee said uncertainly. "The flick's about this sweet little farm girl what's always singing and she and her dog and her whole house gets swept up in a tornado and they sort of fall into this beautiful magical land called Oz."

"And they crush a woman as they land," Simon said. "It's the same story. I don't remember the singing though."

"Probably added it for the movie," Kaylee figured quickly. "Thinkin' on it, the color probably was too."

"The color?" Simon asked.

"Yeah," Kaylee said with some enthusiasm. "You know, the whole time she's home at her farm, the time before the tornado, her life is all black and white, like them really old flicks."

"Ok."

"But then the tornado comes and she's all twisted around and plop, her house gets dumped on the ground and she goes to open the door and just like that it's all in color. And not just regular color, like green trees or blue skies, but there were these gigantic flowers and shimmering bubbles and little people with purple hair."

"Munchkinland was blue," Simon said softly to himself, "the whole screen should have been in blue . . . or was it yellow."

"The road was yellow," Kaylee offered helpfully.

"Yeah," Simon said softly. "That's the same."

There was a soft pause. Simon broke the silence after a second with a soft laugh. "This is exactly what I mean. I never thought I'd find myself in a barn with the prettiest girl I've ever known talking about thoroughly disquieting books. But I . . . I can't name a place I'd rather be."

"I'm the prettiest girl you've ever known?" Kaylee asked, she had to fight to keep from giggling excitedly.

"Without question," Simon said. His voice wasn't seductive or flirtatious or anything other than matter-of-fact.

"And you ain't even drunk."

Simon laughed and closed his eyes. "I should stop talking," he told her. "I'm tired and emotionally unstable and it's only a matter of time before I say something stupid and you get mad at me and then I'll be pummeled by some lunatic who has a grudge against Jayne."

"Oh," Kaylee said with more than a little mirth in her voice. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Simon told her, once again moving his arm so he could wrap it around her.

"Feel better?" she tried again, hopefully.

"Yeah," Simon sighed. "I think I do."

* * *

Thursday

When River woke up she was alone the crisp, clean light of a cool autumn morning was shining in through the window and warming patches of the bed she was laying on. She was disoriented at first, but no more than usual and eventually the memory of Captain Reynolds pulling of her boots came to mind. It was a reverse Cinderella, she though and laughed.

Yesterday was a day for crying. Today would be a day for laughing.

She sprang out of the bed and quickly buckled up her boots. She was going to Serenity today. She was going home.

She bounded down the stairways with unusual grace, even for her. She felt like a bright red ball bouncing on bright green grass. Of course, grass wasn't nearly hard enough or smooth enough for a ball to bounce on properly. But today was going to be such a good day that physics could be ignored. Physics would catch up to her eventually, they always did. Still, it was worth it.

There were pancakes in the kitchen. River could smell them. Pancakes with butter and honey and strawberries. Kaylee's favorite breakfast for Kaylee's last day on the planet.

River reached the doorway to the kitchen, the door that was letting heavenly smells waft through the large house. She leaned against the frame, hesitating just a little. She had never been an overly shy girl, but without someone to lead her, the anxiety she felt about entering a room uninvited spread across her horizon like dark storm clouds. She wasn't going to let the clouds rain on her green grass and red ball, but they did seem to have an odd effect on how high she bounced.

"Hey there, River," Captain Reynold's merry voice said as he entered the kitchen from the back door on the other side. He was carrying a heavy looking tin pail full of fresh Milk and Al Frye was right behind him, holding the door open.

"River," Inara said. The companion had been sitting at the kitchen table, slicing strawberries. She leaned over and smiled prettily at the young girl. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Oh, River, sweetie," Nora said, stepping momentarily away from the griddle where she was flipping pancakes so she could look at River, still stuck shyly at the door. "Come on in. I was just thinking how nice it would be ta have someone here who could whip up some cream. Al, you come do this while I set River up."

The sun broke through her dark clouds and River beamed as she walked into kitchen. Mal had set the pail down on the table and moved so he could sit next to Inara and try and snatch bits of strawberry from her pile, a very dangerous endeavor considering she had a sharp knife in her hand. Al assumed a place at the stovetop, taking the spatula from his wife as she opened a draw and pulled out a large deep wooden spoon and a shiny mettle wisp. "River, dear, take these," she said, handing the utensils to the girl.

River obeyed, feeling sheepish and excited. She could feel Inara and the Captain looking at her, even as they played their tug of war with the strawberries and the knife. "Ya ever made wiped cream before?" Nora asked as she reached up to pull a pretty blue-willow mixing bole off of a high shelf.

River shook her head

"Well," Nora said, setting the bole down right next to the bucket of milk. "It's easy as can be. What ya gotta do is ladle this thick stuff on the top (that's the cream, dear) out of this bucket and into this bowl. That's what the ladle's for. Then ya gotta whip it up with this whisk here, but not too much 'cause we don't want it turning into butter. When it's just about ready we'll add a snip of sugar and it'll be perfect for on top of these strawberries. Think you can do that?"

River nodded and very carefully got to work. It was by no means an all-consuming job, especially for someone who could figure square roots while performing fouettés. Still, River threw herself into the work. She hadn't had whipped cream for over three years. Her mind started filling itself with sweet confectionery thoughts as she very carefully tried to whip the white liquid into the perfect consistency of fluffy goodness. Her red ball turned into a maraschino cherry. Her green grass turned into sweet coconut shavings. The blue sky became icing, so sweet and sugary that her teeth hurt thinking about it and the clouds were made up of the very whipped cream she was making.

By the time pancakes were finished, the strawberries cut, the cream whipped, the honey jar opened and table set, Mal, miraculously, still had all his fingers, and Simon and Kaylee had yet to show themselves. Everybody knew that Kaylee had gone out late last night for Simon and nobody had seen them since. There were two very likely explanations for why that would be. The first of those explanations was that the young man and young woman had found a secluded spot to do what young men and young women do when they are in secluded spots. None at the table, with the exception of Inara, actually hoped this was the case, but considering the second of the explanations, it was the far superior.

It was, of course, possible that Simon and Kaylee had fallen into some horrible disaster. They could be hurt, kidnapped, tortured, and quite possibly even dying. However, Mal was fairly sure that, if such was the case, he'd have an uneasy feeling, or at least, River would be panicking. Her relative calmness and clear good mood predisposed him to believe the first explanation was the correct one, and the rest of the company was willing to trust him and follow his lead. If the kids didn't show their faces by the time breakfast was over, well, then it might be prudent to start to worry.

River was very aware of all these thoughts hanging in the air around her. They made her smile. She could feel Simon's overall contentment in the air too, so she wasn't worried. She could also feel Kaylee's excitement. River knew life was good, all cherries and whipped cream, so she was the only one who didn't react with relief tempered with condemnation as the two young people came into the kitchen door. She just grinned at them.

"Hey," Kaylee said, standing on her tiptoes, reaching up and pulling a piece of straw out of his dark hair. "Ya missed one."

Simon's only response was running his hands through his disheveled hair, checking for any more stray bits. Kaylee's hair was pulled back in a loose, hay-filled, ponytail which Simon was clearly too intimidated to pick at. He didn't want to pull her hair. This puzzled River because her brother had never shown any hesitation to pulling her hair when it suited his purposes.

"Where have you two been?" Mal asked, glaring at Simon. It delighted him to see the doctor squirm. It was a vice Mal wasn't exactly proud of, but he wasn't nearly ashamed enough to stop. River giggled too, at her brother's discomfort. He was too much a gentleman for his own good.

"Oh," Kaylee said, craftily avoiding the question. "Pancakes!"

"Special for you, sweetie," Nora said looking at her daughter with an odd combination of affection and disapproval. "Ya almost missed them."

"Glad I didn't," Kaylee said, sitting down in the one of the two empty places. Simon quickly and silently occupied the other. He didn't look up at Mal or either of the Fryes and his cheeks were burning. It took all of River's decorum to keep her giggles from turning into out and out hysterics.

"Doctor," Al said, practically daring Simon to look at him. "Why don't you say grace?"

Simon finally looked up at Kaylee's father, fear clearly visible in his eyes. "Grace?" he asked hoarsely, swallowing. "Where's . . . where is Shepherd Book?"

"He, Jayne, Wash and Zoë are all havin' breakfast with the folks they stayed with," Mal explained quickly. "You and River were supposed to be over with Hubert."

"Oh," Simon said, distraught over having yet another thing to be sorry for. "I didn't realize. If we're imposing . . ."

"Stop it," Nora said, looking ruefully at the captain. She turned to Simon and smiled sweetly. "The more the merrier. I was tickled pink when Captain Reynolds here told me River and you'd be havin' breakfast with us."

"River," Simon said, truly noticing her for the first time. "What are you . . .?"

"If you don't ask I won't tell," River told her brother coyly.

"What won't you tell?" Simon asked. He wasn't sure wither he wanted an answer or not.

"Hey," Mal said just loud enough to get everyone's attention. "I don't much care for the prayin' but if we gotta do it 'fore we eat I'd like to get it along."

"I'll pray," Kaylee said, sending Simon a playfully scolding glare. She folded her hands and bowed her head and looked saintly, all sweetness and light.

"Our Father in Heaven," She said softly a smile in her voice. "We thank you for all you've given us. For friends and family and good food. Watch over us today and every other. Amen."

To be continued . . .