Author's Note: Vaguely Simon/Kaylee ficlet for the LJ ff_friday challenge. June 26's subject: money. Set after "Objects in Space" but with no spoilers for the unaired episodes. Length: 938 words; I try, but I always end up within 100 words of the maximum.
shuài = handsome/snazzy
shénme? = what?
bì zuî = [you] idiot!
xièxie nî = thank you (all thanks to TaraLJC's Mandarin primer)
The Value of One
By Trisana McGraw
Simon could hear the captain's steady footfalls coming nearer; then they halted, and he knew without looking that Mal was standing at the door to the infirmary. He didn't look up from his work -- he had grown used to being watched -- until he heard a new noise: the jangling of many pieces of metal.
He lifted his head, and Mal took that as a silent invitation to enter. Simon's eyebrows lifted steadily higher as Mal dangled a leather bag from one hand before dropping it onto the table where some metal instruments lay.
In response to Simon's silent question, Mal said, "Your share from the other day's job. Gotta say you surprised me, Doc, thinkin' up a scheme like that. You keep contributin', you could be seein' this" -- he shrugged at the bag -- "as often as the rest of us do."
"I -- ah, thank you, Captain," Simon stammered, hefting the bag in his hand. His work forgotten, he turned it over in his fingers before opening it and extracting a silver coin. He studied it in silence for several long moments.
"You all right?" Mal asked with a look of mild amusement.
"Hmm? Oh, yes, I'm fine," Simon answered, looking back at him. "It's just . . . a strange feeling, being paid for . . . well, crime."
"Who says you didn't do the same back on Osiris?"
Simon frowned, but Mal continued, "Come on, the rich are always the ones who want more than they got. Don't tell me you didn't once in a while load on extra payment for some helpless elderly patient, or somethin'?"
The jab seemed unfair, but Mal got his answer when Simon didn't say anything. He tipped an invisible hat to Simon and left.
Simon set the bag back on the table and returned to his work, but he kept glancing back at it until, with a sigh, he set aside his tools and picked it up again.
* * *
"Kaylee?"
"Hmm?" the mechanic asked, twisting around in her hammock. It wasn't everyday Simon was calling for her, so she climbed out and met him in the hallway leading to her room. "What is it?" she asked, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jumpsuit.
Wearing a small smile, Simon held up a leather bag. "I got paid today."
". . . That's nice," she replied politely, not understanding his point.
Simon seemed to have a point, so she let him keep speaking. Looking back at Kaylee, he said, "It's funny. When I was on Osiris" -- Oh great, another story about his rich home, she thought, fighting the urge to roll her eyes -- "I never really thought about the money I had. I told you that I made an outrageous amount as head surgeon, and it never crossed my mind how wealthy I was."
"And why are you tellin' me all this?" she asked, her impatience clear in her voice.
"Let me finish," he urged. Only because she thought he was shuài did she allow him one more chance. Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him a "This better be good" look.
"I never realized the worth of money until I gave it all up and fled with River," Simon went on. "And I mean all of it -- I lost my job at the hospital, and my father made sure that all of my personal accounts were wiped off the face of the planet. Sure, I brought some money with me, but I've been steadily running out, what with buying new clothes and supplies. . . . Just today I got paid. I know that it's hard to find work out here and that I'm least likely to get a regular salary, so what I'm trying to say is that I've learned to not take for granted each piece of money I'm lucky enough to receive." He paused for a breath. "All that said, I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight."
"Shénme?" Kaylee asked, the breath knocked out of her at his words, making her unsure if she could believe it.
Starting to get a little nervous, Simon repeated, "Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"
Her eyebrows were furrowed together in slight confusion. "But you just said . . . that you would use the money for somethin' really meaningful --" The meaning hit her, and her eyes widened, while her mouth opened in an "o" of surprise. Slowly, a grin spread over her face, but she was too stunned to say anything more.
Simon smiled shyly, making her heart flip over. "So what do you say?"
"Bì zuî!" she answered, but it was in a teasing manner. "Of course I'd love to have dinner with you!" Her expression clouded again, and Simon fervently wondered what he'd done wrong now. "You don't feel sorry for me, do you?" Kaylee demanded. "`Cause I'd hate you thinkin' you were doin' me a favor or somethin'."
"No, not at all," he protested. "I told you; this is something important."
She smiled again, and he felt proud that he had managed not to muck things up. "Xièxie nî, Simon! I -- I've gotta go tell Inara; she'll help me find somethin' to wear." She hugged him around the neck before practically skipping off to the Companion's shuttle.
Still smiling, Simon stared at the bag, remembering the old saying "Money can't buy happiness." He'd understood that after realizing what a lie his life on Osiris had been, but it helped that he had some extra change, especially if it allowed him to do something that would bring such a radiant smile to Kaylee's face.
