simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

They came to an agreement early on: since Kaylee's much busier than Simon right now, even if he helps, and since Simon will be much busier after they've moved, it only makes sense for him to do the bulk of their packing now and for her to do the bulk of the unpacking later.

This means careful documenting and labeling, while he's putting things into boxes; it'll save a lot of trouble in the unpacking, since he might not be there to remember where he put what. In short: making lists.

He's a bit confused by the pair of unfamiliar books he's just come across, though.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Could you use an extra pair of hands?"

A faint smile. "You could just sit there and look pretty and promise to give me a real good back rub later."

He smiles. "I can do that."

"'M just so stiff." The last word comes out with a sigh, and she shifts a little. "Worst bit is I can't even sleep for a week when it's over."

His hand moves back to her shoulder, thumb seeking out the tightness of muscle behind the joint.

"I could give you that backrub now," he offers quietly, "if you want. You've already done a lot for one day."

"I'd fall asleep." Kaylee shakes her head a little.

"...unless that's what you was hintin' at."

Gently wry: "Something like that."

"That's some pretty vile temptation." She closes her eyes again. "You might just sway me with your wiles. On account of I'm weak and vulnerable."

Simon shifts a little, moving his hand from her shoulder to the base of her neck, following the lines of tension.

"Mm."

Her mouth curves a little.

"Cut you a deal."

"Hmm?"

He's still massaging, gently.

"Carry me off to bed and I'll make it worth your while later."

A pause -- and then a slow, fond smile.

"I think I could do that," he murmurs. "Where?"

"You gonna be surprised if I tell you I got my old bunk in shape?"

"...Not really."

He bends to kiss her temple again.

"I'm going to need your help on the ladder."

"I can do that much."

And if I can't, I have no business doing this job anymore anyhow.

"All right, here ..."

He nudges one knee upward and slides an arm under her shoulder, both hinting and offering support for her to sit up.

Which she does, slowly -- on account of getting a little lightheaded, and Kaylee decides not to mention how long it's been since she's eaten.

Lifting her in his arms and getting to his feet is a little awkward, but he manages it. (Without straining his back. He's careful.)

"Is there anything you need to bring with you from here?" Soft.

She murmurs a negative, winding her arms around his neck.

"Okay."

He's moving carefully, so as not to overbalance. Out of the engine room, through the dark and empty kitchen, into the silent hallway; up ahead of them is a bridge with nobody in it.

Ship in a bottle, he hears himself think, distant and melancholy.

There's still a strand of white lights around the hatch.

They haven't been up in the corridor like that for years.

She's got her eyes closed and her head leaning against his shoulder; she doesn't appear to take any notice.

He stops for a moment, looking at the lights.

It's akin to vertigo, this feeling of having stepped (slipped) into the past.

"Okay," he whispers to Kaylee. "We're at the hatch, I need to put you down."

Kaylee looks up at him, and nods.

She doesn't seem to have noticed anything funny.

He eases her to the floor, reaches to open the hatch.

If he climbs down the ladder first, he can steady her when she gets to the bottom.