simon_doctor | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's a fine evening in early spring in Logan City; the first really nice weather of the season, with the sun lingering above the horizon well after the office closes. Simon's carrying his winter coat over one arm as he steps into the house and sets down his briefcase. He doesn't call out; even at this hour, it's probably not a good idea to make too much noise until he's sure he wouldn't wake anybody.

He's got two guesses as to where he might find Kaylee, and because of the weather he's going to check the sunroom and/or backyard first.

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Simon's halfway to laughing, mostly with relief.

"Yes she does," he agrees, "and he's also right that you're both beautiful."

There's something a little sly about her smile. "It's going to take more than that, but you're off to a good start."

His returning smile is a touch sheepish, but still wholeheartedly happy. "I'm definitely planning on more than that."

Half a beat. "... speaking of planning."

She's mid-bite. "Mm?"

Looking up, his face going serious: "We're going for her three-month checkup at the end of the week. After that, if everything looks good ... do you think maybe it's time to start telling more people?"

She swallows.

Takes a sip of water.

Says:

"I don't want to talk about this during dinner."

Very quietly. (She's not looking at him.)

"All right." No louder, and without hesitation.

She nods a little, and keeps eating.

As does he, then.

He doesn't want to press.

"It's very good," he says after a little while, his tone slightly apologetic again.

"Told you."

Dinner proceeds, mostly quietly. Simon composes about half of a reply to Jordie in his head, to write down later.

"My turn to do the dishes, I think?" he says, as they're clearing the table.

"Yeah." Soft. "There's not much."

There's not much in the way of leftovers to put away, either; he leaves that to Kaylee.

Plates and flatware first, then the cooking pans. Hot water, sponge, dishsoap: it's soothing, in a way.

He's going to wait for her to bring it up first.

The kitchen is clean.

She turns to look at him.

"Back out to the sun porch?"

The sun ought to be just about set by now.

He nods. "Hao."

She's not wrong; the sky through the sunroom windows is lemon yellow with rose-tinged clouds floating in it, darkening to purple overhead.

Simon sits down first in the swing, steadying it for Kaylee.

She curls up next to him, pulling up her feet, leaning heavily against him.

Quiet:

"Telling more people like who?"

She's pretty sure. But she wants to hear him say it.

He puts an arm around her, rests his cheek against her hair.

"The rest of my old friends," he says. "Friends of my parents ... I mean, I don't particularly want to tell them, but I know my father does."

Half a beat. "People at Milliways."

That was about what she was expecting.

Kaylee breathes out. "She's not ever going to Milliways. I'm not -- I can't budge on that."

"I know," he says swiftly. "I know. We agreed. That's not going to change."

"So what are you gonna say when they ask where she is?"

"That she's at home," he says, "and that she's much too little to bring there yet. Or to receive visitors outside the family."

Barely audible:

"I feel like we should do something about... about how secure we are here."

Steadily: "I wouldn't say no to that."

It isn't just humoring her, not in the slightest; the thought of anyone threatening their daughter is enough to make his blood run cold.

"Did you have any particular measures in mind, or just ... look at our setup and see where it needs attention?"

"I don't know how we protect against Milliways." Half a shrug. "But... if your parents' friends are gonna know, then it's kind of public knowledge. And I don't know that I like that."

He has a thought or two about protecting against Milliways; he has no idea if they would work, long-term.

"I don't know how long we could feasibly keep it from becoming public knowledge," he says slowly, "at least here. Though it depends who you don't want to know about it."