Archive of Our Own ^beta

“So how are you gonna do it?” Jayne asked, sounding vaguely confused, before they were even halfway back to the ship after their impromptu meeting with Badger.

Mal looked over at him and smiled.

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas,” he answered loftily.

Jayne didn’t care enough to keep asking, or was too distracted by the women passing by on the street- and it was just as well. Mal’s mind was whirring and he knew he had limited time to make his plan work.

Back on Serenity a little while later, he got right to it.

And that was what brought him to the doorway of the infirmary, dressed up in the only nice outfit he owned. Parts of it were stolen, admittedly, and one piece of it was borrowed from Wash without his knowledge, which was a different thing altogether.

Inside, Simon was standing with his back to the door, poring over something on the countertop and looking deep in thought. Mal leaned against the doorway quietly for a moment, watching.

“Hey, doc,” he said eventually, and Simon looked around, his eyes going wide at the sight of the captain. His hair was combed ever so neatly and he looked downright handsome in those clothes, unlike anything Simon had ever seen him in.

“Uh,” Simon stuttered. “Hey.”

Mal grinned brightly, like everything was just peachy.

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

Simon stared at him in a momentary disbelief.

“Oh, you know,” he deadpanned after a beat of silence. “Making sure River doesn’t kill anyone, hiding from the government. The usual.”

Mal smiled again, brighter still, if it was possible.

“What do you say we do something a little more unusual?” he asked.

Simon gave him a wary glance up and down.

“Unusual?” he repeated. Mal nodded with an almost smug little smile, and pushed off the doorframe, coming instead to stand right in front of Simon.

“I-” Simon started, with a half-breathy laugh that made Mal smile. “I’m sorry, what are we talking about here?”

Mal grinned, looking wickedly sly all of a sudden.

“What do you think we’re talking about, doc?” he asked.

Simon looked up at him, and said exactly none of the things that entered his mind.

“I really couldn’t tell you,” he answered. That much, at least, was honest.

Mal quirked an eyebrow.

“Well,” he drawled. “What if I told you I’m looking for a date?”

The silence was deafening to Simon’s ears.

“A what?” he stammered, and Mal laughed.

“Relax,” he said. “I got a job that takes a bit of a lighter touch. Thought you might be interested in lendin’ a hand, seein’ how this is your kinda world.”

Simon hesitated, just for a moment, but there was just something so inviting about it, something that he couldn’t entirely put a name to.

“Where are we going?” he asked eventually.

Mal smiled like he had known what Simon’s answer would be all along.

“I’ll tell you the details on the way,” he said. “But uh-”

He looked down at his clothes, and then back at Simon.

“I think I’m gonna need to borrow a tie.”

Simon couldn’t help but smile a little. He nodded slowly, and gestured for Mal to follow him out of the infirmary against his better judgement.

Mal followed with a smile on his face, and conveniently didn’t mention that the tie he’d worn for Zoe and Wash’s wedding was stashed away in the top of his closet. That much, he thought, would just have to stay on a need to know basis.

He followed Simon not only out of the infirmary, but all the way down the hall to his and River’s room. Simon peeked his head in and found River already there, sitting cross-legged on the bed.

“Hey,” he said as he pushed the door open, and River looked up. She smiled slightly, but her eyes weren’t on her brother. They were focused keenly on the Captain, who was hanging back in the doorway as Simon headed for his little closet.

“Hey,” River answered curiously, still not looking at Simon.

“Hey there, little one,” Mal said in the usual easy drawl that he typically reserved for Kaylee or River. The doctor glanced over his shoulder and took in the scene; River with her eyes on Mal, and Mal waiting respectfully just over the threshold.

“You can come in,” he said, sounding amused. Mal gave a little nod and stepped inside, looking curiously around.

“Simon’s stuff is all put away,” River said matter-of-factly.

“Hm?” Mal hummed, looking back at her. She smiled.

“I know you were looking for his things, but he’s too neat. He puts them all away.”

Simon cleared his throat, stepping back in between his sister and the captain.

“This should do,” he said hurriedly, before Mal could respond to River- who Simon was very seriously considering murdering later on.

Mal took the offered piece of deep crimson silk from Simon’s hand, and looked at it for a long moment.

His plan, it seemed, had hit the tiniest of snags.

The tie he had left in his own bunk was made rather differently from this one, and he was suddenly hit with the unfortunate realization that he didn’t know how this kind was meant to be tied.

Watching him keenly, Simon had surmounted the same conclusion.

“I-” he started, and Mal glanced up at him. “Would you-”

Awkwardly, he reached out an empty hand, and Mal nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Not much occasion for silk.”

“Right,” Simon murmured, and Mal swore he looked downright fond taking the dark red fabric back from him.

“Here,” he said, and then suddenly he was standing very close, wrapping the tie swiftly around Mal’s neck and tucking it nimbly beneath his collar. This close, Mal could see the little lines between Simon’s eyes as his gaze focused on the tie and he quickly, expertly, performed the practiced motions to fasten it for Mal.

Behind them, River watched with interest.

“That’s good,” Simon said softly, and offered Mal a little smile.

“He keeps a diary,” River said suddenly, breaking the moment, but in the best possible way. When Mal looked up, she was smiling slyly.

Simon turned to her sharply.

“River.”

Mal grinned.

“Good to know, little sister,” he said. It seemed that he had quickly regained his usual jaunty confidence, and he turned his grin on a dizzied Simon.

“My thanks, doc,” he said, his fingers absentmindedly reaching for the loose hem of the tie that now hung so elegantly from his neck. “I’ll leave you to get dressed, but I’ll meet you in the cargo bay in fifteen?”

“Right,” Simon managed. “I’ll be there.”

And then with a wave to River, which she enthusiastically returned, Mal had taken his leave. Simon turned to his sister as soon as he was gone.

“What?” she asked.

“I am going to kill you,” he threatened.

But when she laughed brightly, he didn’t even have the heart not to smile.

“Get over here and help me,” he said instead, and River floated to his side, and Simon couldn’t help thinking that for the moment, everything felt like it had been, once upon a time.

---
“You know,” Mal was saying to Simon an hour later, “those vests unnerve me, but I gotta admit you do look mighty handsome in ‘em.”

They were steps away from the entrance to the party, and if Simon didn’t already have nervous butterflies at the thought of re-entering high society, if just for an evening, he certainly would now.

“Um,” he said. “Thank you. I think.”

Mal grinned.

“Better lose that stutter real quick, doc,” he teased. “I hear people with floating chandeliers don’t take too kindly to it.”

Simon shook his head slightly.

“I can assure you that they really don’t,” he answered.

He was interrupted by the announcement of his fake name, which he barely heard because of the way Mal was smiling at him as he extended an arm. Simon took it, and they went inside, but Simon felt dreadfully distracted. He knew he was supposed to be focusing on the job at hand, at looking around for the man Mal had described on the way over. But with Mal practically floating at his side, looking terribly, unfairly attractive-in his tie, no less- Simon was finding that very difficult at the moment.

The captain was talking a big talk, but when they descended the stairs and met the edge of the dance floor, it was hard to miss the way he looked around like he’d never seen anything like what was around them.

Simon, on the other hand, had seen more than enough of it. His time on Serenity- and the preceding months in which he’d drifted further and further from this world in his search for River- had left him feeling itchy in a place like this.

Mal looked over at him now, tearing his eyes away from the chandelier.

“Does this seem kind of tight?” he asked, tugging at the material of his dress pants. Simon couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes,” he answered, and left it at that.

Mal stared at him for a moment, apparently rendered temporarily unsure, and looked back up at the chandelier.

“It really is floatin’, huh?” he asked. Simon smiled, rocking slightly on his heels as he nodded.

“It is,” he said.

“I mean, I get how they did it,” Mal clarified. “I just ain’t gettin’ the why.”

Simon shrugged.

“Because they can,” he answered, and it sounded surprisingly harsh. Mal glanced over at him.

“If I didn’t know better, doc, I’d say being out in the black has got to you some,” he drawled. Simon smiled tightly.

“I’d say it has, captain,” he answered. Before Mal could answer, he looked around again, seemingly eager to change the subject.

“Inara’s here as well, isn’t she?” he asked, and Mal nodded.

“So I hear,” he replied. He gave the crowd a cursory glance. “In gold, according to Kaylee.”

Simon hummed and looked around again, but didn’t spy Inara’s familiar dark hair and elegant frame anywhere in sight.

“But in the meantime,” Mal continued. “Help me find our man. He’s supposed to be older, kinda stocky. Wears a red sash crossways.”

“A red sash?” Simon repeated.

“Yeah,” Mal replied, taking his eyes off of the dance floor once more to look back at Simon. “Why?”

“The red sash indicates lord-hood,” Simon answered, wishing that he didn’t have to think about social hierarchy again. Mal fixed him with a blank look, and he smiled.

“It means you have to call him sir,” he explained.

“Sir?” Mal repeated, wrinkling his nose a little. Simon smiled.

“I know you’re used to hearing it yourself,” he teased, “but in this world, you’ll avoid a major misstep by using the proper title.”

Mal grinned.

“I knew I brought you along for a good reason,” he said, and Simon gave a little roll of his eyes. Mal smiled, scanned the crowd once more, and held out his hand to Simon with a definitive look.

“What?” Simon asked, a little warily.

“Got to see the whole crowd,” Mal said. Simon eyed the outstretched hand again. “No better way to get around a dance floor than by dancing, is there?” Mal asked.

Simon’s throat felt very dry suddenly.

“I suppose there isn’t,” he answered. Seeing that he clearly had no other option, he took Mal’s hand and let himself be led onto the dance floor. But once they were there, it became immediately clear that Mal was actually not ready to lead.

Simon grinned at him as he took a confident step, falling back into the pattern like an old memory.

“Like riding a bike,” Mal mused.

“Must be nice to know how to ride a bike,” Simon answered, and Mal smiled.

“Well, doc, you teach me to dance-” he paused as Simon swiftly turned them in a smooth circle, “-I’ll teach you to ride a bike one of these days.”

Simon laughed.

“I don’t particularly want to embarrass myself that badly,” he replied.

“Oh, come on,” Mal said. “Nothin’ wrong with a little learning.”

With that, he stepped very close to Simon, so close that their chests were pressed together, and spun them in the very same way Simon just had. With the movement, Simon caught the scent of something fragrant, like leather and a lighter note, like apple blossoms.

“See?” Mal murmured, his mouth very, very close to Simon’s ear. “Learnin’ already.”

Simon was just thinking that he might actually die before this night was over, and then their dance was- regrettably, or fortunately- interrupted. Something had caught Mal’s attention, and his face slipped easily back into Captain mode; when Simon followed his gaze, he found that Warwick Harrow was standing very near to them, leading a conversation near a pillar.

“That’s him,” Mal murmured. Simon was very aware of the way the captain’s hand was still resting on his waist.

“Here,” Simon answered, guiding them both through an opening in the dance floor.

As they stepped off, Mal took his hand and they weaved through a group of four women in lavish dresses. Simon stared at the way Mal’s fingers tangled with his own, and found that he could not conjure a single coherent thought.

All too quickly, in the space of a breath, it was over and they were standing right in front of the man they were here to speak with.

“Beg pardon,” Mal said with his smoothest smile, “but would you be SirWarwick Harrow?”

Simon could see the flash of appreciation, of respect, in the man’s eyes as soon as he heard Mal use his title, and couldn’t help feeling a little proud at the part he’d played in getting Mal on this guy’s good side- or his better one, at the very least.

“That would be me,” he answered, and Mal smiled even brighter.

“Sir, my name’s Malcolm Reynolds,” he said. “I captain a ship named Serenity. I mention this because I’ve been led to understand you want to move some property off-world.”

To Simon’s right, he heard a familiar voice, and when he looked it was to find Inara on the arm of a man he knew only by unfortunate reputation.

“- discreetly,” Mal was saying as he tuned back into the conversation.

“You’re mistaken, sir,” Harrow said smoothly. “I’m an honest man.”

Simon’s eyes found Mal’s face again, and he knew instantly that the captain didn’t believe a word of it.

“It seems to me there’s nothing dishonest about gettin’ your goods to people what need ‘em,” Mal answered easily.

“Whom do you represent?” Harrow inquired, and Simon could easily spot the thinly veiled interest that Mal had piqued in him.

“Represent isn’t exactly the-”

“Don’t waste my time,” Harrow said.

“Fellow called Badger,” Mal obliged. Harrow nodded his head, and Simon’s eyes flickered between the two of them.

“I know him, and I think he’s a psychotic lowlife,” Harrow said matter-of-factly.

“And I think calling him that is an insult to the psychotic lowlife community, but the deal is solid,” Mal replied without missing a beat, and Simon found it hard to hide his smile. This was Mal in his element, whether he quite realized it or not. He could sweet talk anyone, from the edges of the universe to the pinnacle of society.

Perhaps it was why Simon was so drawn to him, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the thought, because they were interrupted by Inara’s silent arrival on the arm of her date, who sidled up to the conversation and let his eyes slide over Mal in a way that Simon hated, in order to focus on the other man.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he said. “Sir Warrick, I know you from the club, I believe.”

Across the little circle, Simon met Inara’s eyes and she offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes the way he was used to seeing.

“Captain, Doctor,” she began, conveniently omitting Simon’s name, “this is Atherton Wing. Atherton, Captain Mal Reynolds and his medic.”

“Simon Firkus,” Simon said, easily providing the lie Mal had fed him and a smile to boot, though Atherton Wing didn’t return it.

“Pleased to meet ya,” Mal said cheerfully. “How about that floating chandelier, huh? Almost outshines our girl here.”

Simon saw it for what it was; Mal was uneasy about Wing, and with good reason. Even as he spoke, Atherton’s hand closed around Inara’s arm, his grip too tight and his meaning utterly clear. Once, that kind of behavior had been usual to Simon, but he was a different man these days, and it left him bristling now.

“Inara has spoken of you to us,” Simon said, taking a little step forward to draw even with Mal. His voice was pleasantly light, but by the way Mal and Inara both glanced at him, he could tell that they saw through it. “She made a point of your generosity. Given that, I’m sure you won’t mind if we ask the favor of her company for a few minutes?”

Atherton was trapped, and Simon knew it. He gave a curt nod, and Simon smiled at Inara. Mal, who had clearly caught on, gave a smile to Harrow.

“I’ll let you two catch up,” he said meaningfully, and stepped right between the two of them to follow Simon and Inara to the nearest buffet table, tucked into a corner away from most of the crowd.

“What are you two doing here?” Inara asked once they were out of earshot of Atherton and Harrow. Simon looked to Mal, who shrugged his shoulders.

“Can’t a man bring a doctor to a dance?” he asked with a flutter of his eyelashes that was meant to look innocent, but didn’t to Simon at all. Inara, unfazed, rolled her eyes and looked expectantly at Simon.

“Did he drag you here?” she asked.

“Kicking and screaming,” Simon said with a smile, but he was sure that his warm glance at Mal gave him away entirely.

“As a matter of fact,” Mal said, looking between them, “Simon is my date tonight, which may or may not be a fancy way of sayin’ he’s here so I don’t look like an idiot.” He grinned, and looked over at Simon. “And,” he continued, “he’s doin’ a mighty fine job of it, too.”

Simon couldn’t help smiling at that, but neither of them had the time to tell Inara the full story, because at that moment they were interrupted by the unwanted reappearance of Inara’s date, who grabbed her hand and pulled her away from them in one swift movement.

“Watch yourself,” Mal said, and though Atherton might not have, Simon definitely heard the warning in his tone. “No need for hands on.”

“Excuse me,” Atherton replied. “She’s not here with you, Captain. She’s mine.”

Simon knew what a mistake it was before the words were even out of his mouth.

“Yours?” Mal repeated. “She don’t belong to nobody.”

“Money changed hands,” Atherton said, stepping dangerously close to Mal, nearly as close as Simon himself had been not so long ago, “which makes her mine tonight. And no matter how you dress her up, she’s still-”

Simon saw it coming well before Mal’s fist collided with Atherton’s jaw. The music screeched to a stop and Atherton tumbled to the floor. Mal looked at him there for a half-second, and then turned to Simon, grinning.

“Turns out this is my kinda party,” he said. Simon couldn’t help smiling right back at him. If he were honest, this was exactly how he’d always hoped one of these stuffy parties might go, if only to provide a little relief from the upper crust nature of it all.

But then it hit him.

He didn’t have a moment to say anything, before Atherton was on his feet and staring at Mal in a way that Simon really didn’t like, almost hungrily.

“I accept,” he said, and Simon’s heart sank.

“That’s great,” Mal replied. “What?”

“There has been a challenge,” said the man who flanked Atherton like a schoolyard cronie. Behind Mal, Simon exchanged a worried look with Inara.

“I hope you’re prepared, Captain,” Wing said smoothly.

“What?” Mal asked, looking uncertainly between them. “Y’all talking about a fight? Well, that’s fine, let’s get out of here.”

He was already shrugging out of his suitcoat, looking more and more like the captain he was by the second.

“It’s not a fistfight, Mal,” Simon said quietly. He hadn’t quite noticed, but his hand was on Mal’s elbow, stopping him from moving any further. The captain looked over at him in confusion.

“The duel will be met tomorrow morning at Kaytree Pond.”

“Well, why wait?” Mal asked, looking back at them, already fired up again. “Where’s that guard? He collected a whole mess of pistols.”

Simon and Inara looked at one another again.

“If you require it,” Atherton’s man said in his same silky, haughty voice, “any gentleman here can give you use of a sword.”

His eyes found Simon, hovering at Mal’s elbow.

“I imagine even your company here could assist you,” he added.

Mal narrowed his eyes, and Simon felt him go tense under his hand, where it was still resting on Mal’s arm. He started to move forward but Simon tightened his grip with a little shake of his head.

“Mal, don’t,” he murmured.

“He’s right.”

They both turned at the new voice, and found Warrick Harrow had joined them.

“You’ve stirred up more than enough trouble for yourself as it is,” he said.

“What’s going on here?” Mal asked, looking between Harrow, Simon, and Inara.

“Well, first off, you’ll be put up in lodgings for the night, so you don’t disappear,” Harrow answered. “I wouldn’t blame you, incidentally. Wing may be a spoiled dandy, but he’s an expert swordsman.”

Of course he is, Simon couldn’t help thinking bitterly.

“He’s killed a dozen men with the long blade,” Harrow continued. “You’re the only one gave him a reason.”

Simon glanced at Inara again, and he was quite sure they were both thinking the same thing- that it was very near to being thirteen men.

“Oh, this is a joke,” Mal muttered.

“You’ll need a second,” Inara said.

“What’s that?” Mal asked.

Before Simon could speak up to volunteer himself, though the words were on the tip of his tongue immediately, Harrow spoke again.

“I’ll take on the job.”

“He fights if you refuse,” Simon explained quietly.

“Inara,” came a commanding voice from a few paces distance, and they all looked up to find Atherton waiting. “Come with me, please.”

“Now, you taking on this job, being my second,” Mal carried on as if they hadn’t been interrupted, looking at Harrow, “does this mean we’re in business?”

“It means you’re in mortal danger,” Harrow replied off-handedly, and Simon felt vaguely sick. “But,” Harrow continued, “you mussed up Atherton’s face, and that has endeared me to you somewhat. You might even give him a fight, before he guts you.”

Now Simon felt definitively sick.

“Inara!” Atherton called impatiently, and they all looked again.

She glanced back at Mal for a moment, and then to Simon.

“I’ll check up on him tonight, okay?” she said quietly, urgently, and he had barely enough time to give her a quick nod of understanding before she was gone.

Mal turned to Simon, his eyes dark.

“Go home,” he said. “Tell Zoe what’s up, and Inara and I will be back in the morning. Then we’ll get on ahead with the job.”

Simon stared at him for a moment, but it was abundantly clear from the look on the captain’s face and the firm set of his jaw that there was no use arguing the point. Simon was no idiot; he could tell in an instant that his best bet was to follow Mal’s direction and appeal to Zoe back on the ship instead of wasting time here fighting with the captain.

It didn’t stop him from feeling torn.

He swallowed hard and reached for Mal’s bloodied knuckles.

“Listen, at least ice this tonight,” he sighed. “You’re going to need your fingers working in the morning.”

Mal managed a smile at that.

“You got it, doc,” he answered. “See you tomorrow.”

With one last glance around, Simon dropped Mal’s hand and turned to leave- but he still couldn’t resist looking back once more.

“See you tomorrow,” he echoed, but on the inside he was just hoping there would be a Mal to see by tomorrow.

Simon followed the same route they’d taken to get here, and retraced their steps back to Serenity. Persephone was not quite the kind of world he’d been used to, once, but it was certainly nice enough that he could blend in easily on its streets and make it back to Serenity with relative ease- save for the knots in his stomach and the vague feeling of anxiety that plagued him the whole way.

Most of the crew was nearby when Simon arrived, and they all looked up expectantly as he entered. Zoe rose to her feet instantly, clearly on alert at Mal’s absence.

“What happened?” she asked. “Where’s Mal?”

Simon sighed.

But before he had even managed to get any words out, there was a knock behind him and they all looked up to find a very unwelcome sight.

Badger, of course.

He grinned toothily and thrust his walking stick- for show, naturally- at Jayne.

“Your captain’s gone and got himself in trouble,” he said. Zoe looked at Simon again.

“He punched the guy Inara was with tonight,” Simon said.

“So what’s the problem?” Jayne asked. “Mal can take some nancy from Persephone.”

Even though he felt sick with worry about the whole situation, and dizzy from the swirling memories of the night, Simon rolled his eyes at Jayne.

“The custom is that if you punch someone like that, it initiates a challenge,” he explained, and his eyes found Zoe again. “He’s been put up in lodging for the night, and there will be a duel in the morning,” he elaborated. “With swords.”

“A duel?” Book echoed.

“With swords?” Wash added.

“The captain’s a good fighter,” Kaylee said from her corner. “He must know how to handle a sword.”

Zoe spared her a glance and a little half-smile that looked less than happy.

“I think he knows which end to hold,” she said.

“Alright, so we just need to figure out how to get him out of there,” Wash reasoned.

“We have until the morning, correct?” Book asked, looking at Simon. “Do you know what lodging he’s in?”

Before Simon could answer, Badger loudly cleared his throat and grinned when they all looked over at him.

“Are we misapprehending my purpose here?” he asked, and Zoe fixed him with a withering glare.

“You’re here to make sure we don’t do what these men are keen on doing,” she said.

“Penny for the smart lady,” Badger said. Simon couldn’t help thinking that things were looking, if anything, more bleak than ever for Mal.

“Persephone’s my home,” Badger went on, “I gotta do business with the people here. I don’t want it known I brought someone in caused this kinda ruckus. We’ll just settle in till this blows over…” He offered a sickly grin. “One way or the other.”

With a jab of his thumb, he indicated the group of men he’d brought along, now standing armed by the door of the cargo bay.

This night, Simon thought, had really not gone the way he hoped.

But there was nothing much else to do than to follow along, so they settled in, just as Badger said, and shortly thereafter, they were gathered together in a little circle with some playing cards.

“Is there anything else?” Zoe muttered to Simon after a while, when Badger’s guys were out of earshot and they could use the card game as a cover.

“Not much,” Simon answered, feeling very helpless. “Inara told me she would check in on him.” He shrugged. “And Mal told me to come back here and that he’d join us in the morning.”

“So he’ll join us after he wins the duel,” Kaylee piped up hopefully.

“Doesn’t hurt to have a contingency plan, Kaylee,” Zoe murmured.

“I’m thinking since we’re unarmed,” Simon said carefully, eyeing one of Badger’s guys as he slipped by, “we should take them by surprise, all at once.” Jayne was nodding before Simon was even finished.

“Not necessarily,” Zoe hummed softly, laying down one of her cards. “We can lure one or two of ‘em away. Say, infirmary,” she added, glancing at Simon. “Take ‘em out, be on Badger before he knows what happens.”

Simon felt itchy and irritable even thinking about it, and his mind was dwelling endlessly on Mal.

The spinning, the dancing, the familiar motion of tying his tie around Mal’s neck- it all played on a loop in his mind, and he kept wondering what he might do if he never saw the captain again.

Book appeared at his side as Jayne made some comment about a diversion, laying a gentle hand on Simon’s shoulder. He looked up at the shepherd, who said nothing- he didn’t need to. Simon looked behind him, and saw exactly what Book was trying to tell him.

River.

Simon wanted to scream, or possibly just disappear until it was all over.

Instead, he slowly and calmly rose to his feet and ambled casually over to her.

“River,” he said in a low voice, “you can’t be here.”

She smiled at him.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s dance, like you did.”

Like you did.

Simon remembered the scent of apple blossoms, and his lungs felt too tight all of a sudden.

“We can’t,” he said softly. “River, please.”

“Who’s that then?”

Badger’s voice was grating on Simon’s nerves more by the second.

He turned, prepared to hand over a stumbling story about just a passenger, but there was something about the way the man was looking at River, something reminiscent of the way Atherton had looked at Mal earlier- and Simon could feel his composure slipping.

“What does it matter to you?” he asked instead of the line he’d been rehearsing instead. His eyes were hard on Badger now as they came face to face. “Why do you care?”

Badger gave him that same unnerving grin, like he knewsomething, like he was hiding something.

“Why do you care so much about Malcolm Reynolds, eh?” Badger whispered, and Simon lunged without thinking, his mind going bright white.

But there was Zoe’s hand on the back of his shirt, pulling him back away from Badger, who was looking at Simon with a stunned expression. It seemed he had thought the doctor a safe bet to taunt, and hadn’t expected him to fight back.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Zoe hissed at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, away from Badger.

River was watching from the doorway as Zoe turned back to Badger.

“Sorry about that,” she said tersely. “Gets a little testy, that one.”

Badger fixed Simon once more with the usual grin, seeming like he felt safe again with Zoe standing between them.

“River, let’s go,” Simon said under his breath. This time, she followed without question, and after he had tucked her distractedly into bed, Simon leaned against the wall in the hallway and stared at the ceiling.

He played Zoe’s question over and over in his mind.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

The truth was, Simon wasn’t really sure anymore. Something had come over him, hearing Mal’s name, and even now he sort of wished Zoe hadn’t pulled him away. It would have been a disaster, of course, and he knew realistically that he could have wound up with a gunshot wound from one of Badger’s guys, but somehow- it felt almost worth it.

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking of Mal and the way he had looked as Simon turned away earlier that evening.

This was going to be a very long night.

He was right. The hours waned and morning came, with no sign of Mal or Inara. Simon watched Jayne wolf down a hefty breakfast, staring at him across the table with utter disgust. He hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours himself, but he had no doubt that Jayne had slept just fine.

They had developed a contingency plan later in the night, when tensions cooled a bit, one that didn’t involve any of Jayne’s ideas for their diversion. Simon did his part to fill in the Shepherd as they paced around one another so as not to raise suspicion, but even the thought of having to use that plan made Simon want to curl up in some dark corner and never come out again.

“What time is it?” he asked Book when they’d all been gathered in the cargo bay for a while.

“Just before ten,” the Shepherd replied. Simon sighed.

If they were going to see Mal, it would have to be any minute now. He looked toward the door, trying not to think that the captain might already be dead by now, and wondered what he might say to him even if it turned out that he wasn’t.

Then, he returned to pacing the floor.

It was what he was still doing when a familiar voice sent a jolt through his chest.

“Did you ever see such a lazy crew?” came Mal’s familiar drawl from the doorway. Simon spun around to see him leaning slightly on Inara, but alive and on his feet and smiling. He moved thoughtlessly, instinctively, toward the captain, drawn forward by utter relief.
“Captain!” Kaylee said, somewhere behind Simon, but she sounded very far away.

“You’re hurt,” Simon said, coming to stand just before Mal. Mal spared him a long glance and a little smile.

“Nothin’ a good doctor can’t fix,” he murmured, and then turned to Badger, who was waiting impatiently next to Simon.

“You get us a deal?” he asked eagerly.

Mal looked like he was fighting hard not to roll his eyes.

“I got a deal,” he said. “Now get off my ship.”

Badger glanced back at Simon and grinned wickedly.

“You two have fun,” he laughed. “Tradin’ stories about your hero moments.”

He whistled at his men and a moment later they were all walking away, leaving Mal looking confused behind them.

Simon barely noticed.

Mal sank into the nearest chair with a groan and Simon knelt next to him immediately, like an instinct.

“Are you badly hurt?” Book was asking. Simon’s fingers fluttered around Mal’s bloody shoulder, gently peeling at the torn fabric to get a good look at the wound there. Mal nodded slightly, and Simon caught a glimpse of the blood on his side as well.

“We was just about to spring into action, Captain,” Jayne was saying somewhere above Simon. “Complicated escape and rescue op.”

“I was gonna watch,” Wash chimed in from where he was leaning above Simon. “It was very exciting.”

Mal smiled faintly and looked down at Simon, kneeling next to him.

“What were you gonna do, doc?” he asked, too softly.

“Sock Badger in the jaw, if he had his way,” Zoe muttered dryly. Mal raised his eyebrows at her with a little glance, and then his eyes were on Simon again.

“What’s that all about?” he asked. “You pickin’ up bad habits?”

Simon shook his head.

“Be quiet,” he chided. “You’re hurt.”

“Not too hurt to talk,” Mal insisted.

“You might be,” Simon answered. He rose to his feet and looked around. “Sorry, everyone, I’m going to have to take the captain to the infirmary,” he said, and they all stepped back in unison. Simon offered a hand to Mal, which he readily took, and a moment later he was leaning on Simon like he had been Inara a moment earlier.

“Are you alright?” Simon asked quietly when Mal was standing.

“Shiny, doc,” Mal answered with a grin. Simon shook his head, but the look on his face was nothing if not fond.

“Come on, then,” he sighed. “Let’s get you patched up.”

The wounds were not as bad as they could have been, and when Simon had Mal patched up, the captain insisted- predictably- on going about his day. They had the cargo to load onto the ship- cows, of all things- and he told Simon that he had to get them off-planet.

Still, he agreed to meet the doctor again in the evening, so that Simon could check in on him.

And that was what brought them to the suspension bridge that evening. Mal had changed into a blue button down and abandoned his usual suspenders, given the wound on his shoulder. He smiled up at Simon from where he was sitting, and Simon smiled back.

Already, the terror of the night before seemed to be fading in the distance, like Persephone itself as Serenity headed back out into the black.

“What are you doing?” Simon asked curiously, nodding his head at the jug Mal had sitting next to him.

“Wine,” Mal answered, gesturing to the spot next to him. “Sit down.”

Simon tilted his head, even as he lowered himself to the floor at Mal’s side.

“I’m supposed to be making sure you’re feeling okay,” Simon reminded him, and Mal grinned.

“I’m feeling okay,” he answered. “Do you wanna have a drink with me?”

“Alright,” Simon laughed, and took the wine Mal offered.

“Where did you get this?” he asked curiously, and Mal smiled at him mischievously.

“To Kaylee and her inter-engine fermentation system,” he said, raising his glass in Simon’s direction. The movement pulled at the wound in his side and he groaned, his face suddenly arranged in a grimace.

“Are you in pain?” Simon asked, a hand on Mal’s shoulder before he could pause to think about it.

“Absolutely,” Mal said, but Simon could hear the lightheartedness in his voice. “I got stabbed, you know, right here,” he added, pulling at the hem of his shirt.

“You’re hilarious,” Simon deadpanned, and when Mal laughed, it didn’t seem to hurt at all.

He sighed and looked over at Simon.

“Don’t care much for fancy parties,” he said. “Too rough.”

“It wasn’t entirely a disaster,” Simon said, smiling.

“I got stabbed, right here,” Mal protested.

“You also lined up exciting new crime,” Simon offered, and Mal smiled, his blue eyes trained on the doctor.

“Also learned a nice dance move from an awfully handsome doctor,” he said with a little shrug. “Wasn’t all bad, I guess.”

Simon smiled, and Mal reached carefully into his pocket, producing Simon’s red silk tie. He held it out in the palm of his hand with a warmth to his gaze, and Simon found that he was a little reluctant to take it back.

“Thanks again,” Mal murmured, and Simon smiled.

“You wear it well,” he said softly. He swallowed hard and reached out to take it, but when his fingers grazed the palm of Mal’s hand to pick it up, he found them held in place.

Mal had tangled their fingers together, the silk tie trapped between his palm and Simon’s, and he was looking at the doctor with an unmistakable blaze of warmth in his bright blue eyes.

“Mal?” Simon asked uncertainly.

Mal said nothing for a long moment, and just looked at Simon. Around them, everything was still, and Simon felt like he might be dreaming.

“What were they talking about earlier?” Mal asked, tilting his head slightly. “About you socking Badger in the jaw.”

“Ah,” Simon breathed. He could feel his cheeks going pink. “He said something to me.”

“What?” Mal pressed.

“He- well.” Simon cleared his throat. “I snapped at him and he asked me why I- why I cared so much about you.”

Mal looked at him for a long moment, and it occurred to Simon that he had already known the answer before the question ever came to his lips.

“Well,” Mal whispered, leaning in closer until he was so close that Simon could count his eyelashes, “do you?”

“Do I- what? Care about you?” Simon asked softly.

“Mhm.”

Simon didn’t even consider lying.

“Yes,” he answered, resolute.

Mal smiled, looking down at the tie that was still clasped between their hands.

“You know,” he murmured, “I really don’t belong in your world, wearing fancy silk ties.”

Simon shook his head.

“I don’t think I do, either,” he whispered.

When he looked back up, it was to find Mal looking at him in such a way that could only be called tender and his breath caught in his throat.

“Let’s get rid of this, then,” he said, voice hushed, and pulled the silk out of Simon’s hand. He waited for Simon’s nod, and tossed it gently off of the bridge, where it drifted silently and slowly toward the ground.

“Simon?” Mal asked.

“Yes?”

“Do you wanna try a real date next time?”

Their eyes met, and Simon would have been sure he was imagining it if not for the steadiness of the captain’s fingers in his own.

“Yes,” he said again, and by the time the tie hit the floor below them, Mal’s lips were on Simon’s, and silk no longer mattered at all.