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

"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.

It's not that bad; she can manage to climb down without too much trouble.

And she knows where to reach to turn on the lights inside -- the colored ones over the bed. The throw pillows and quilts are still on the bed, and there's a blue brocade jacket hanging on a hook by the door. Off in the corner is a silhouette of something that looks suspiciously like a layer-cake dress.

Simon's looking around.

That feeling of being in the past is stronger, simultaneously eerie and mournful; he remembers Kaylee's room when it looked like this. Remembers staying here the night before the assault on the Academy, the first night they slept together, knowing either of them -- any or all of them -- might not survive the next day.

He should be helping Kaylee get to the bed, instead of standing here trying to blink back tears.

She turns around and catches a sight of his face.

Quiet: "Simon?"

He looks at her swiftly, and tries to smile.

"Hey."

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he murmurs. "Just..."

A vague gesture, indicating the room. "It's been a long time."

Kaylee looks around.

"I forgot I hadn't shown this to you." Subdued. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he assures her, moving closer again and sliding an arm around her shoulders.

It's as much for his own comfort as for hers, he has to admit if he's being honest.

"You sure?" she asks, slipping her arms around his waist. "You don't look -- was this a surprise?"

"...yes." Soft. "It ... caught me off guard, that's all."

He can't remember the last time he saw that paper parasol. Can't even remember whether or not Kaylee still has it, in storage somewhere.

Her brow furrows. "...okay."

He moves toward the bed, drawing her along, and leans to turn down the quilt.

That dreamlike feeling is back, but it's less disquieting this time; it's almost comforting.

She sits on the foot of the bed, looking up.

"You gonna stay?"

Simon holds out a hand for one of hers, palm up.

Soft: "I was going to ask if you wanted me to."

Kaylee covers his with hers. "'Course."

His fingers curl around hers, and he sits down on the bed next to her.

Murmured: "I still owe you that backrub."