simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

The old rule still applies. During the time that's designated as theirs, together, there are to be no work-related distractions.

Which means he's silenced his inbound messages for anything that isn't emergency-priority. Everything else will just have to wait a while.

Simon settles on the couch next to Kaylee, and holds out a mug of homemade cocoa. "So. How's my first attempt?"

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" -- and the fella drivin' is hangin' from a tree or somethin'. I forget exactly what."

Reminiscently: "The one that always scared me the most was where the hitchhiker is actually the driver's ghost. I don't know why."

Kaylee giggles. "Maybe on account of ghosts can't drive?"

"You don't know that," he says very seriously.

"Their hands'd go right through the yoke," she protests.

"But frequently in ghost stories, ghosts can touch and move things," he points out. "Like the ones with the message painted on the wall?"

"Quit pokin' holes in the stories," she says, grinning -- and poking him.

He does not yelp. That would be undignified. You're imagining things.

Anyway, he's too busy making sure his sudden involuntary squirming doesn't make him spill the cocoa.

Kaylee's laughing as she leans forward to put her own mug down (on the floor; the coffee table's in the other room). "I think I just figured out what I want to do tonight."

"...what."

He's starting to shift away from her, half-laughing.

Sweetly: "You might want to put that down."

"...if I do that, you'll poke me again."

Beat.

"Which you might do anyway...."

"I was bein' nice and givin' you a warning." Kaylee inches closer to him.

A little hastily, Simon leans to put the mug down.

Kaylee watches with approval. "I didn't really want nothin' spilled on me," she confides.

"Neither did I," he agrees, straightening up.

And eyeing her with exaggerated wariness.

"Simon Tam, you're startin' to act like you don't think I'm all sweet and nice."

"You are entirely sweet and nice and I would never suggest otherwise."

His face is perfectly straight.

(No it isn't.)

"Good," Kaylee says, cheerful. "Otherwise you'd be sleepin' out here on your lonesome."

"Which wouldn't be any fun at all," he says mournfully.

And reaches to slide one hand around her waist.

"But it'd still be pretty comfortable." She leans in.

"True," he muses.

And leans back against the arm of the couch, tugging her with him.

Not like she's going to protest. "And for all you know, I could wake you up with breakfast."

"Yes, but for all I know," he points out, "you could do that anyway."

Idly, he reaches up to twine a trailing strand of her hair around his finger.

"And it seems like it'd be likelier if I'm nice."

"Maybe a little," she agrees.

"...but if you tired me out, I might sleep in later than you."