simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

Three years ago today.

He didn't quite dare bring it up last night, but it's been on his mind most of the week. Remembering their first anniversary, and their mostly-ignored second, on which it seemed unlikely that their marriage would survive to have a third.

If it were a month later, if Kaylee seemed more comfortable with being here, he'd suggest going out to dinner someplace upscale -- the new aerial restaurant in the Milian district, maybe -- but as things are, it doesn't seem like the best idea. He wants to surprise her, but with something she'll enjoy, not something that'll be an imposition.

The germ of an idea started late this morning, when he passed the bakery.

When Simon steps into the apartment, he's carrying a bunch of flowers in one arm, and a few miscellaneous packages under the other.

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She shouldn't, she figures, do anything special. Last year -- last year at this point they mostly didn't have a marriage; this year she's falling to pieces. They're not talking about it. What's there to celebrate?

On the couch, cup of tea, headphones in, staring out the balcony doors into the gloaming.

Simon sets down most of his purchases (and other acquisitions) on the kitchen counter, quietly, and comes into the living room.

"Kaylee?"

-- the timbre doesn't match.

She pulls out one headphone, and turns.

Forces a small smile. "Hey."

He sits down next to her, and holds out the bouquet: red roses, and a spray of some tiny pale flower that he doesn't know the name of.

"Happy anniversary, ai ren."

For a moment she just stares at the flowers.

Her cheeks redden, slowly.

Low: "I thought -- we wasn't, there wasn't -- "

"I know you didn't want to go out, but ... I thought, there's no reason why we couldn't stay in and still do something quiet together?"

Faint uncertainty now.

(He's still holding out the flowers.)

"I just -- I didn't think we would, so -- "

Tomato-red, now. "I didn't do anything."

(Not that she would have known what to do, anyway.)

"I'm sorry, I -- "

Half-overlapping: "Kaylee, it's okay --"

The uncertainty is scaling upward into anxiety.

"I didn't mean -- I only wanted to surprise you."

And Kaylee's mother taught her that you smile and say thank you when somebody gives you a present.

She can't quite manage the smile.

But she takes the flowers, and she says thank you.

Low: "I don't even know how I can make this up to you -- I swear I didn't think we were gonna do anything."

Very earnestly: "This isn't something you have to make up to me. Honestly. I just wanted to bring you something nice."

There's more, but if bringing her something unexpected is making her uncomfortable, it can just stay where it is for now.

"Okay. Then -- then -- "

Shakily she pushes herself up and goes to the table with the vase on it; she picks it up, and carries it (and the flowers) into the kitchen.

"Simon?"

"Yes?"

He's a few paces behind her.

"What -- "

There are things on the counter.

"What is this?"

"Oh. Um."

One hand goes up to rub the back of his neck.

"I don't know if it'll taste anything like the kind you like, but there's a bakery not far from the campus that makes sour cream pound cake? And the, uh, the other box is ... I stopped in at Milliways, and I asked Bar to suggest a vid you might enjoy."

Kaylee puts the flowers on the counter. The vase goes next to them.

She turns and, without looking up, slips her arms around him.

"Huá lì de wúwàng de làngmàn."

He hugs her back.

"Does that mean you're pleased?"

"Means I still feel real guilty and you might could have said something anyhow, but not like I'm gonna complain."

Simon drops a kiss on the top of her head.

"Duìbùqĭ. Next time I'll give you some warning."

"Xièxie nĭ, Dr. Tam."

Kaylee turns to look over her shoulder. "Cake, huh?"

He turns, keeping one arm around her as he reaches out to flip open the lid of the bakery box.

What's inside is a plain unfrosted yellow cake that smells like heaven.

"Yes."

"Good for what ails you." And now -- finally -- she's grinning, pure and unadulterated. "This mean we can eat it out on the couch?"

And that grin goes through him like a burst of fireworks or a pure note of music, and there's no way he could hold back the answering grin if he tried.

"Absolutely," he says, without hesitation.

"While we're watchin'... what're we watchin'?"

"Well --"

Simon picks up the two vid sleeves and fans them in his hand, looking down at them a little dubiously. "I've never heard of either of these, but Bar recommended them."

He holds them out for Kaylee's inspection, both the garishly colored cartoon and the one that looks like it might be a fairy tale.

Kaylee looks down at the two of them.

"So."

Wry.

"Which one are you gonna hate least?"