(no subject)

[simon_doctor]

The dividing line between sunlight and shadow is just crossing this particular slice of this particular planet, as it rotates away from its parent star.

Which is to say: it's early evening. Three tiny moons race each other backwards across the sky, away from the last embers of the sunset, growing and phasing towards full, white and pale gold against the deepening blue, pacing their brilliant reflections in the deeper blue water of a glimmering lake.

There are no higher life forms on this planet yet: its indigenous life hasn't advanced much past fairly small insects and lizards, and it'll be some centuries yet before any human colony ships make it this far.

Which may leave the casual observer at a loss to explain the tiny snug house at the edge of the lake, or the carefully tended grove of fruit trees behind it.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

He kisses her again.

"No? Sorry."

[gonna_live]

And now she's laughing. "You are not."

[simon_doctor]

So's he, a little.

"Not really, no."

[gonna_live]

Kaylee shakes her head sadly. "Don't know what I'm gonna do with you."

[simon_doctor]

Hopefully: "Marry me?"

[gonna_live]

"...don't tell me you forgot that we already did that."

[simon_doctor]

"Never."

He runs a hand down her hair.

[gonna_live]

"Good. Once was enough for me."

Pause.

"Still means I got to figure out what to do with you." Consideringly.

[simon_doctor]

"Well, let me know when you figure it out."

He leans back against the headboard, and tucks his arms behind his head.

"In the meantime, I'm going to take a nap."

[gonna_live]

"..."

There is only one possible response to this, as he is leaving himself wide open.

Simon is attacked.

Fear the mechanic who tickles by night.

[simon_doctor]

!

Simon is not much good at counterattacking; he's too busy spluttering and trying to fend her off.

[gonna_live]

But lo, she is Jefferson Kaylee of Three Hills, Mechanic of Serenity, Pilgrim of Many Lands, yes, even unto the Core, Supreme Mechanic Equal to Heaven, Cook of Surpassing Skill, known far and wide as Dissembler of Grav Boots and Prodigy of Colored Pencils, Not a Boddhisattva but a Lover of Strawberries and Also of Ruffles, and Recently Married To That Doctor Fellow.

And she is good at this.

Also, laughing herself.

[simon_doctor]

There's never been laughter on this planet before, nor any other sound of human delight.

None of the insects outside seem to mind.





Least of all the fireflies.