"And that's how I learned how to play the ukelele," Wash finishes.
Kaylee's bright laughter peals out, bouncing through the room and over his and Zoe's deeper
chuckles. Everything about their new engineer is bright, eclipsing the dim glow of the utility
lanterns and his own darkness. He's sure Bester had no clue what he'd found, just thought of her
as another bit of fun. Mal finds he's okay with that; after all, now he has a genius engineer who
doesn't hurt his head near the way Bester did.
"You're making that up," Kaylee says, still laughing.
Wash looks indignant, mouth dropping open as he looks around the table. "I am not!" He turns to
Zoe. "Tell her I'm not making it up."
His first mate comes through, as he knew she would. Zoe rolls her eyes and says, "He's making it up."
Kaylee busts up, and the rest of them, even Wash, join her. It's a good evening, one of the best
he's had in ages. Food was decent, his ship is in the air, and he ain't got no complaints with the
company. A man could live on that alone.
Wash throws his hands in the air, though Mal's used to him enough by now to know that it's all an act.
His pilot pushes back from the table. "I can tell when I'm not wanted," he says. "I'll just be checking
on that flying thing." He ruins his act with a courtly flourish to Kaylee and Zoe, followed by a snippy
salute at Mal.
Mal returns the salute with one modified to best suit his personality, and Zoe and Kaylee laugh again
as Wash bounds out the hatch. The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken by the occasional snort
and chuckle.
Zoe stands after a few minutes. "I'll be calling it a night, sir," she tells him, then nods to Kaylee.
Kaylee waves back. The childish gesture seems natural on her. It makes him feel a little bit old. She
watches Zoe until she disappears, then turns to him with a gleeful look.
"They got something going on?"
Mal splutters into his tin cup. Once he's got air back into his lungs he gives her his best incredulous
look. "Wash and Zoe? You feng-le, girl?"
Kaylee's eyebrows lift in perfect little points. Her eyes shift to the front corridor, then back to him
with her own incredulity. But she just smiles and says "whatever you say, Cap'n."
Mal shuffles his chopsticks around his empty plate as they fall silent again. It's that just-met-a-new-friend
silence, the empty space between the initial burst of conversation and the moment when conversation becomes
unnecessary. He searches his mind for something to say, but everything he comes up with revolves around how
she wound up under his engine, and he's not touching that with a fire-retardant glove.
"This is really nice," Kaylee says, cradling her tin cup in her small hands. "Thanks for taking me on."
Mal takes a sip of his own cold tea. "You keep us flying, I'll be the one thanking you."
She nods, unconcerned with his bluntness. He's never been one to spew niceties just to make other people
feel good. Luckily she doesn't seem to be the type to mind.
"So, captain, huh?"
Mal nods. "That's what they call the guy who owns the boat."
Kaylee runs a finger through the moisture gathered near the edge of her plate. Mal braces himself as
her eyes flick up.
"It's not from the war, then?"
He opens his mouth to offer a glib denial, but it don't want to come out. Her eyes are big and warm,
curious but not intrusive. He wants to treat her with decency and honesty, and he hasn't really felt
that with someone since the end of the war. Mal grabs his cup and heads to the counter to give himself
time to think.
"No, I was just a lowly sergeant back then," he finally says. He fills his cup carefully, watching
the clear stream of water splash against the side of the cup. When he turns around Kaylee is staring
at her hands.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she says quietly.
He gives her a tight smile. "No, it's right that you know, since it might come up down the line. Zoe
and I served together. It's not something I like to talk on. I don't hold with the Alliance much, so
if that's a problem maybe we should rethink our arrangement. No hard feelings."
She actually snorts, then shakes her head. "Hell, my daddy keeps a shotgun over the door in case any
purple-bellies get too friendly with his property."
Mal nods, though he wonders if that shotgun has more to do with Kaylee than any bit of farm equipment.
He doesn't ask, just grabs his cup and wanders back to his seat. He's waiting for her to put two and two
together, waiting for her to ask about Serenity Valley.
Kaylee leans forward, something glittering in her eyes, and Mal tries to ease the tell-tale tension
from his shoulders.
"So, are you and Zoe together?"
He almost breathes his tea for a second time. Mal sets the cup a good two feet out of reach so he
doesn't make the mistake of drinking in her company anymore.
"Wo de tian a!"
Kaylee giggles. "I'm a guessing that's a no."
"That's a no," he confirms. "Zoe'd gut me quicker than yesterday's dinner if I even thought about it.
Which I ain't," he adds before she can jump to any conclusions.
That doesn't seem to stop her. "You and Wash, then?"
He just blinks at that, his brain somehow stuck between gears. Wash ain't a bad guy, especially since
he got rid of that hairy monstrosity that was trying to eat his face, but...Mal carefully controls a
shudder. "What is it with you, woman? You looking for a soap opera?"
Kaylee shrugs. "I just can't see how three good-looking people can share the same space day after day
and not scratch the itch every now and then."
Mal sighs and rubs a hand over his tired eyes. He should have known after the way they were introduced.
It weren't exactly proper, after all. When he moves his hand, Kaylee's giving him a practiced eye.
"I don't hold with that on my ship," he tells her, firmly. "It just leads to trouble. All sorts of
entanglements."
She still looks hopeful, a bit of rosiness shading her cheeks as she smiles back at him. He wonders how
many men she's wrapped around her little finger with that look. Usually he doesn't stand for anyone who
doesn't take no for an answer, but Kaylee is so open he can't feel unkindly toward her. In fact, he feels
a little more than kindly toward her, the way she's looking at him like he's the finest jasmine leaf.
"There don't have to be any entanglements, not if everybody understands what they're getting out of it,"
she assures him. "Just fun."
Mal finds himself wanting to agree with her. He shoves that impulse way down with the rest of the thoughts
that aren't allowed out--ever. She's too young, and she's on his crew.
"You're a right attractive woman," he tells her, then sighs as she beams back at him. "But it ain't going
to happen. In my experience it don't matter how prepared you are going in, sex always leads to complications."
He holds her eyes, waiting for that to sink in. When a rosy blush starts to creep up her throat, he nods
once. "And I'd rather have you as a friend."
She smiles, a little tremulous at first, but then her confidence returns. "You sure about that?"
He smiles back, aiming for kindly-yet-firm. "I'm sure."
"Whatever you say, Captain." Her voice is back to its usual perkiness, and Mal breathes deep as he realizes
there aren't going to be any hurt feelings. Kaylee stands and walks around the table. He has just long
enough to tense back up before she brushes a kiss over his forehead.
"Thanks for everything," she says again, then steps toward the front hatch. She pauses, glances around the
room, then grins at him one last time. "Sure is a right shame, though. We could have had a good time."
She turns and heads to her new room with a sway of her hips.
Mal finds himself smiling. The girl is something else. He stands, picks up his plate and cup and wanders
over to the sink. As he stares at the stack of dishes, he wonders how he got stuck with clean-up yet again
on his own gorram ship. He shakes his head and reaches for the soap. At least it's only the four of them.