simon_doctor | (no subject)

Beeeeeeep.

Beeeeeeep.

Eventually, Mal's face appears.

"And how are we feeling today?" Very solemnly.

Simon just looks at him for a moment.

"You know, I've known you for ... years now ... and there are still times I can't tell whether you're joking."

(The vid angle is quite close to his face, but it's still readily apparent that he's in bed, propped up against a bank of pillows. He's pale, except for some fairly deep shadows under his eyes.)

(His voice is considerably more raspy than usual, and weaker.)

"Old men don't know any good jokes."

It's not an answer, and Mal's trying to read the details of Simon's complexion through the crap vidlink in Mal's bunk.

"I would visit -- "

He shakes his head before Mal's even finished speaking. "It isn't a good idea. Really. That's -- why the vid link."

The pause is to suppress a cough.

"I know."

Mal then bends out of frame, picking up and waving a book at the camera lens.

"I brought a book to read. I'm not much for entertaining elsewise."

"What book?" Simon sounds at least faintly interested. "I can't read a lot right now, it's ... not advisable. Too much of a strain."

And if he sounds just a little stiffer on those last words, well, he's got cause to.

"It's called..." Mal opens the book -- paperback and rough, cracking the spine, "Shogun. Got it from the bar. About Earth-that-Was Japan and whatnot.

"I also have romance novels from Inara's shuttle."

Blink.

"...I refuse to believe that Inara reads romance novels."

"Good answer. Besides, I just said they came from the shuttle, not who was the last person to read 'em."

Mystery!

"Don't strain your head on that one." The book gets put down out of frame. "Or I could...talk at you."

"I wouldn't mind that," he says, with a small smile.

"How is everybody?"

"Well enough I suppose. River wants to check on you something crazy, but she knows not to go. Jayne is itching to punch somebody lately. I'm not sure what's up on that score."

Mal readjusts in his seat; presumably he is at the foot of his bunk. "Wash and Zoe have been in Naomi-quarantine. Maybe that's why Jayne is jumpy."

His brow furrows in some concern. "Naomi's better, though, isn't she?"

(I have to --)

"As far as I can tell, yes. Is that going to stop Wash from keepin' her swaddled in safety-plastic?"

"..."

It's relief more than anything else that makes him sag a little back onto the pillows, trying not to laugh because laughing will make him start coughing again.

"Could you please tell him that I said he should stop? Speaking as her doctor?"

"He'll just ask Zoe for a second opinion and that never works out in anyone's favor, Doc. Be serious."

But Mal's laughing about it though, so it can't be too bad.

"Bar remembered my anniversary. You know I been going to the end o' the 'verse for four years now? Gorramit."

"Four years."

Simon shakes his head in some incredulity.

"A lot's changed since then."

"I've gotten prettier."

Which, while meant as a joke, is not exactly untrue. Mal is...rounder, now. If someone called him softer to his face they'd probably get socked in the jaw, but there just maybe be more lines on his face in the past years from good times than bad.

"You've gotten considerably more legal in the 'verse. For one thing."

"Which makes a -- nice change."

Suppressing the cough is a little more obvious, this time, and Simon fumbles for a tissue offscreen.

"I like to think so, yes."

Mal is able to wait politely enough while Simon takes care of himself.

Offhandedly, "Kaylee there?"

Folding a clean tissue around the soiled one, he says "She hasn't left the apartment since I first came down with this. Would you like to speak to her?"

"No, that's alright, I just...well, you sound like you're trying to cough up a lung."

Mal's expression contorts into a worried one, but awkwardly so. More like he is watching a part of the ship splinter and crack rather than a man who is ill and trying to get better.

A small wry smile. "That's normal for this stage. It was a lot worse before."

It would have been a great deal worse -- fatally so, almost certainly -- if they hadn't been able to get the medication for it. Simon doesn't see any particular point to bringing this up.

Mal can pretty much already guess that anyhow.

"You ready for classes to be over?"

"Well, the classes themselves are already over --"

Something like a wince crosses his face.

"Just the exams left."

Simon's expression has been pretty pained the entire conversation, so the wince is especially noticeable.

"Are you even going to be able to sit for them?"