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.

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And she goes back to the Milliways garage, where she puts in a good six hours of work -- not literally backbreaking -- before dropping herself gingerly on the pallet in the corner, face to the wall, for a nap.

It's an advantage of exhaustion that she doesn't think at all.

It's maybe forty minutes after that when Simon knocks on the edge of the doorway to the engine room.

The pallet's not quite visible from where he's standing.

Kaylee jerks in her sleep, and stiffens, eyes springing open. The toe of her boot hits the bulkhead with a dull clang.

She looks up.

He steps back, and looks down toward the sound of impact.

"...Hey," he says softly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

She reaches up, reaching for his hand.

He hunkers next to the pallet, sitting on his heels, and takes her hand.

Again, even softer: "Hey."

Kaylee budges up her head from the thin pillow, pushing it toward him. Faint: "Sit?"

He slides closer, turning, and sits. Doesn't let go of her hand.

Murmured: "How're you doing, xin gan?"

She settles her head in his lap with a soft sigh, and doesn't answer.

(That might be an answer itself.)

With his free hand, he strokes her head.

It doesn't seem quite the time to bring up what he came here to talk about.

"Tired of bein' tired."

His hand stops, then starts moving again.

No louder: "Is it worse?"

She nods a little.

"I want this ship done and I want to leave and I want to find somethin' else to do."

Simon moves his hand down to her shoulder, massaging gently.

"It won't be much longer."

Kaylee closes her eyes and doesn't reply.

"Should I let you get back to sleep?"

He's still stroking her shoulder.

"It don't matter."

His breathing hitches for a moment; not sharply, but there's a pause between inhale and exhale.

I wish you wouldn't say things like that.

He presses her hand lightly, and doesn't say anything.

She dozes off, after a moment, her hand slackening in his.

Simon leans one shoulder against the wall, letting his eyes half-close.

She's driving herself too hard, comes the thought; and immediately on its heels I can't tell her that.

A small unhappy sigh escapes him.

Kaylee stirs a little, turns her head up. "Mm?"

"Nothing," he murmurs, and smooths her hair with one hand.

"'M sorry I snapped."

"Méi guānxi."

His hand's gone still.

"I know you need something that's yours. And the last thing I'd ever want to do is take that away."

She sounds a little bewildered when she says, "I know that, and I don't know why I -- "

"Just tell me I got some crazy showin'?"