simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

[After this.]

Simon's not sure how long he's been sitting here.

The shaking stopped a little while ago. He looked in on River shortly after that, compulsively, unable to stop himself, and found her sleeping; climbed the stairs to the engine room, stole a glance to see Kaylee there working, and slipped back down without letting her know he was there.

Because if she saw him looking in on her, he'd have to explain. And there's nothing to explain.

It's still a little early to go to sleep.

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It is. But Kaylee has cleaned up anyhow. Thinks maybe she'll make an early evening of it -- there's a book she's in the middle of, and reading in bed is awfully nice.

"Hey," she says as she wanders in.

Her smile isn't erased. That's the wrong word for it.

He looks up as she comes in, and tries a smile even as hers fades.

"Hey."

"What is it?"

She's standing in front of him. Trying not to think about the possibilities of what it could be.

There are several.

He lets out a small sigh, and reaches up to take her hand.

"It's nothing really. I had an ... unpleasant encounter at the bar."

If it was Blodwen Rowlands, he'd've said. And Wash told them all to stay away anyhow.

Kaylee rests her other hand along his cheek. "It'll be okay. Whatever it is."

"It wasn't anyone we know. A ... dead madman, I think."

He leans into her hand, a little.

"I think he may have thought I was someone else."

The fact that the dead man called him by name ... yeah, he's trying to forget that.

"It happens."

What happens? Mistaken identity? Dead madmen?

It's a lame response, and she knows it.

"And it's over now." Doing her best to be reassuring; doing a pretty good job.

She is reassuring. Her presence alone.

Simon tugs lightly at her hand, in an unspoken invitation to sit by him.

Like she'd turn it down.

"You okay?"

"...I think so."

He tries a smile again. It fits a little better this time.

"Raven says hello."

"Miss him." Hers fits just fine.

And tilts toward fond, and a little worried.

And even if Simon doesn't technically need a hug --

Well. He's getting one anyway.

Oh, he needs a hug. Very much so.

He isn't shaking anymore, but his arms tighten around her fiercely, almost desperately.

He's rattled. She can tell.

"It's over." Whispered, as she rubs his back. "You're okay."

He nods, his cheek sliding against her smooth hair.

"I'm all right. It was just ... it was really unsettling."

"Let's see what we can do about puttin' it right." She pulls away a little, studying his face. "I was thinkin' about readin' some, but we can start more Shakespeare if you want."

Tonight Shakespeare brings up associations of ghosts and warnings.

"...What were you going to read?"

Kaylee grins.

"Complete and total trash. Picked it up last time we had a mail drop -- cost three bits. Meant to see about borrowin' your encyclopedia to see what I could get of the history behind it, 'cause no way I could make it through otherwise, I don't think. Called The Scarlet...somethin'."

Pimpernel.

For the record.

"Has to do with France."

"That ... sounds nice."

And it does, really. Soothing.

"D'you want to read to me, or should we take turns?"

"How about...I start off, and you go and get ready for bed while I find it."

Getting ready for bed doesn't take too long.

He returns from the head, teeth cleaned and face washed, and changes into his pajamas while Kaylee's still searching.

"Found it -- "

It was hiding in a box of old trade journals -- the top journal advertising a review of the Bentley X-964.

"There." Cheerful, as she settles on the bed, turning her pillow vertical against the wall to serve as a backrest before leaning back, reaching out to him. "Ready to go?"

Simon smiles at her, and squeezes her hand lightly, and nods.

Most of Chapter One's missing from the battered volume. Kaylee begins with Chapter Two: In the kitchen Sally was extremely busy -- saucepans and frying-pans were standing in rows on the gigantic hearth, the huge stock-pot stood in a corner, and the jack turned with slow deliberation...

He closes his eyes, and leans back against the headrest to listen to her voice make a lullabye of the old story.

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