AN1: Thanks for the reviews, you guys are great! So here's the next three chapters. Warning - part six is pure fluff, and if you have no sweet-tooth, feel free to skip it, you won't miss grand plot-stuff! I just like it...

'Captain?' Simon's hands were on Mal's face before he'd finished the question.

Mal flinched away. 'Damnit, doc, give me some warning when you come in!'

'I'm sorry,' Simon answered apologetically. 'I haven't left since we were speaking - I thought you knew I was here.'

'Well next time, don't. Been a week since I was able to tell whether you were lurking around or not, I thought you would'a learned by now not to sneak up.'

'Again, Captain, I'm sorry,' Simon said placatingly. In the past few days, they'd had more than a few of these spats, and he seemed to be trying to head this one off at the pass.

'So what do you want?' Mal asked with ill-grace.

'I want to have a look at your eyes to see if the mender did its job. Then I can work out when is the best time to use it again. I'll need to put you under, but I want to look at the skin around your eyes first, would you rather I left the injection until after?'

'Rather you left the injection altogether. I swear, the number of times you stick me with that needle anybody'd get the idea you like me being knocked out.'

'Well I can't do that,' Simon answered, ignoring the accusation. 'But if you don't try and open your eyes, I can leave the shot until afterwards. Is that alright?'

'Shiny,' he answered sarcastically.

'Okay, I'm taking off the bandage. Remember to keep your eyes shut, there's no telling what damage you could do to them trying to focus now. Don't clench them either, just don't move,' Simon said.

'Think I got it, doc.'

'Good,' Simon answered distractedly. He unpinned the bandage and carefully unwound it, nudging Mal's head upwards to get it off the back.

Mal laid his head back down, and Simon began the examination. He could feel Simon's gaze raking over the raw skin. He was really getting sick of just laying here, day after day, while doc poked him with needles and looked at him. He hadn't been joking about Simon enjoying it - boy had to be feeling a mite smug that, for once, Mal was in his infirmary being nice and quiet. Course, even when he wasn't knocked out, there wasn't exactly an abundance of conversation. The crew tended to assume he was sleeping, though he had passed that point days ago, and he could hardly just start talking himself. He'd be ten minutes in and realise he was the only one there.

Simon seemed to be taking his time over this. What more could he possibly need to see? The bandages didn't cover that much skin anyway. Not that he felt like that when they were on. The things kinda gave him flashbacks to Niska, stumbling around blindfolded but just knowing something was about to jump at him. Simon's examinations weren't exactly torture by electrocution, although as he had now progressed to the "prodding" part of it, the line was getting thinner. He couldn't take this any more. Simon had to be doing this to be stubborn, because how much damage could it really do? For a week he had been driven closer and closer to just tearing the rutting bandages off, and now the temptation was too much. He opened his eyes.

The only thing he registered before being forced to screw his eyes shut again was Simon's expression of horror. Eyes closed, he heard Simon launch into a torrent of words he would've have swore the doctor didn't know, his own screaming, and then the needle in his arm brought blessed silence.

When he woke up his eyes were tightly bandaged again, and the ship was quiet. It must be late. Mal moved his head to get more comfortable, groaning as his body registered that it was awake and could now start sending him pain again. His head was killing him.

'What were you thinking?' Simon's question was nearly a yell, and it made him jump, but the doctor continued before Mal could make an issue of it. 'I told you not to open your eyes. I made it perfectly clear.'

'It was just for a second,' Mal said.

'Was it worth it?'

'Worth what?'

'If I wasn't a doctor,' Simon spat the words, 'I would be very tempted to say that you had made the blindness permanent.'

'But you are a doctor, so what's the damage?'

Simon muttered another stream of curses. 'I don't know. At least another week onto your recovery time.'

'No.'

'What do you mean, "no"?'

'They didn't teach you that word in Medacad, top-three-percent? Means that I'm not spending an extra week in here.'

'And how do you propose to do that, Captain? Given your vast medical expertise I'm sure you have some way to speed up the recovery.'

'Fix it faster.'

'Excuse me...? Fix it faster? I am working as best as I can. I spent hours with the mender undoing the damage you just wrought. This is no more fun for me than it is for you.'

'Could have fooled me.'

'What?' Simon asked sharply.

'Maybe you should be working on your ears rather than my eyes.'

'Cào nî zûxiān shí bâ dai! What is wrong with you?'

'Apparently I can't see. Who knew?' Mal shot back.

Simon sighed. 'I've worked on children with better composure about their injuries than you. Serious injuries. I worked on an eight-year old crash victim who lost the use of both legs, scars all the way up her body, lost both parents and one sibling in the crash. An eight year old. And not once did she accuse me of trying to make her worse.'

'Well I'm sorry I don't have all the composure of your core kiddies. Maybe it's knowing that my accident didn't lead to me getting my inheritance money!'

'This has nothing to do with money,' Simon snapped. 'This is you and… I don't even know what it is. I don't know what happened to make you this way. But I know that every member of your crew is doing everything they can to make you well again and for the past few days all you can do is complain about it! All because you can't lie back and let them look after you. It's selfishness and … and cowardice…'

'What did you say, boy?' Mal asked in a tone he hadn't used on Simon for months.

'I…'

Mal reached blindly on the tray beside him and flung the first thing to hand in Simon's direction.

Simon gave a shocked yelp, and fled the room.

It was only a few minutes later when there was a quiet knock at the door.

'What?' Mal growled.

'It's me, Captain,' Kaylee answered cheerfully. 'Simon thought you might want some company.'

'Is that right?'

'Yup. Said he thought he might have been a little rough when he was examining you and you were a bit sore.'

'That ain't quite…' he answered, slightly guiltily.

'I told him to go and get some sleep. That's probably why he was a bit shaky. He's been sleeping on that chair since you got hurt, and it's not really comfy enough to get any real shut-eye. He was real sorry, Captain, please don't yell at him anymore.'

Gorram boy couldn't let him have the high ground even for five minutes, could he?

Translations:
cào nî zûxiān shí bâ dai - fuck 18 generations of your ancestors