Missing - for aintappropriate

[vae]

Title: Missing
Author: woodsong_1978
Request: S/I and M/K, pottery in motion, white socks, No Rayne, no matter what *else* they do
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Simon/Inara (potential), Mal/Kaylee (established)
Warnings: none!
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, neither is the 'verse. Just playing here.
Author's note: Xiexie to lvs2read for her excellent beta of this. For executrix for the aintappropriate fiacthon.
Simon misses River. River misses Simon. Inara misses something. Mal misses the point. Kaylee misses Mal, but keeps trying.
Feedback: is craved. Concrit gratefully accepted.

"The theatre district...it's a warren. Playhouses against opera houses, wide, well lit streets, tiny alleyways...very different to the one on Osiris." Inara leaned back against the couch, sipping her tea. "You've visited, of course?"

Simon set his own teacup down and scratched behind his ear. "On Osiris? Yes. Though I wouldn't call it a warren, as such."

"Oh, no, I meant...Osiris is too well planned for that. You've not visited the theatres on Sihnon?" Inara arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"No. I never...there was studying. And then working. There was one conference on Sihnon, I was due to go, but...River." He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to.

Inara leaned forwards and placed an elegant hand on his knee. "You did the right thing, Simon."

"Did I?" Simon stood, abruptly turning to hide his face. Her hand fell away, and Inara studied the tense back presented to her. "Sometimes I wonder. If maybe, maybe if I'd left her, let them finish whatever it was they were doing, if she'd be -"

"Don't." Inara rose, placing her hands lightly on his shoulders, feeling the tension singing through muscles she'd known had to be there from the way he moved. "Don't, Simon. You did the right thing. Don't doubt that. You did the right thing." She waited until he looked back at her, and then dropped her hands, stepping back. "She's happy here, Simon. You've seen her with Kaylee, with Wash...with Book." Inara smiled, mischievously. "I doubt he's ever had someone try to dissect his religion with logic before. Not quite so relentlessly, anyway."

"No." Simon gave a reluctant smile. "She is happy, isn't she? Almost..."

"You still miss her."

His eyes widened, the dark lace of lashes framing endless pools of emotion. "How do you...?" He closed his mouth, giving a brief, awkward nod. "Yes. Even though...She's still my sister, though. Just...not the sister who left."

"But still your sister."

"Always. I should probably..." He gestured towards the door, clearly uncomfortable.

Inara crossed the shuttle, hips swaying just a little more than usual with each step. Reaching the door, she rested her fingers on the latch. "Of course. She must be missing you."

Simon avoided her gaze. "I suppose you're right. I'm not exactly...well. I should...River."

"You'll come again tomorrow?" She glanced up into his face, her lips slightly parted, purposely standing a little closer than courtesy demanded.

He didn't move away. "Yes." Simon hesitated, and then raised a hand to lift one glossy curl from her shoulder, letting his fingers glide through the silky strands until it fell back to her skin with a gentle whisper. "Inara, I wanted to say..."

Inara wet her lips, the tip of her tongue sliding slowly over rouged fullness. "Yes, Simon?"

"If..." Simon met her eyes at last, and she had to stop herself catching her breath at the intensity of his soft, blue regard. "If we had met...before. Under other circumstances. I would have been honoured if you would have considered my proposal to contract with you."

His fingers, cool and strong, slid over hers as he reached for the door handle. She stood watching the closed door for timeless moments after he had vanished from her sight.

***

"They were white!" Kaylee yelled.

Mal jumped as another plate smashed against the wall next to his head. "An' so were the gorram plates, Kaylee! Least, that one was. And we ain't got many more of 'em. Wanna stop throwin' 'em at me?"

A crash of breaking crockery, closer this time, answered that question. Abandoning the last shreds of his captainy dignity, Mal dived under the table, shoving chairs out of his way with little ceremony. There was a muffled explosion above his head as the last of the white plates returned to the great slip-pile in the sky, and then peace. The silence was only broken by the sound of Kaylee's uneven breathing, interrupted by the occasional sob. He ached to go out and comfort her, but venturing out into target range didn't seem the wisest move to make. "Kaylee?"

There was a muffled sob. He peered out carefully through the back of the chair. "Kaylee? I ain't the sharpest blade in the rack, but this ain't just 'bout your socks, is it?"

Her eyes narrowed, and she reached for a mug.

"Kaylee? Have you seen...hey!"

Mal smirked. The doctor could always be counted on to walk into volatile situations. Granted, he wasn't much for defusing them, but anyone providing a target other than him was welcome right then.

Crash.

"Hey!"

Crash.

"Kaylee!"

Crash.

"I was just going to ask -"

Crash.

"Um...hello."

Mal glared. "Nuh-huh, Doc. This here's my shelter. An' I ain't sharin' it. You go find yourself some other place to hide."

Crash.

"There isn't anywhere else," Simon pointed out reasonably. "Perhaps you'd care to explain why you're hiding under the table as Kaylee hurls the remaining few pieces of our dinner service around the kitchen? It may not be the best Meissen, but we'll certainly be facing a few challenges come dinnertime if she manages to destroy all of it."

Crash. Pieces of pottery skittered across the floor. One came to rest just by Mal's left hand. He withdrew it, rapidly.

"Damned if I know, Doctor." Mal scowled. "Could be she's caught a case of the crazies from your sister."

Simon flinched. Mal grinned inwardly. Oh yeah, always a weak point. Always fun to prod at that one.

"Just started yellin' somethin' 'bout laundry, 'bout how some gorram fool's turned her last pair o' white socks some kinda pinky color, an' then, boom, she's throwin' stuff 'round like it's gonna bounce. Mind, first coupla pieces did, but I reckon she's got the hang of it now."

Crash. Sob. Silence.

"She seems a little upset," Simon ventured. "Did you two argue again?"

"Ain't your concern." Mal peered out again. Still quiet. He pushed a chair out carefully, wincing at the scrape of wooden legs on the tiled floor. "Kaylee? You all done?"

"No." There was a gulp in her voice. She sounded like a lost child, defiant and terrified. "Just takin' a break."

"Well, think you can make that a not break?" Warily, he pushed the chair further, and crawled out. She was standing with her back to him, arms wrapped firmly around her belly. "'Cause you keep on breakin' the plates, I ain't gonna be able to replace your socks, on account of me havin' to buy new plates so our fancified folk don't gripe 'bout havin' to eat off of the table."

Kaylee made a sound midway between a sniff and a giggle. "Don't need socks. 'Least, I don't."

"Well, I ain't runnin' out of 'em. You can have some of mine." Mal stood up, sliding one hand around her waist from behind and pulling her back against him.

She resisted for a moment before surrendering and resting her head against his shoulder. "Could be a mite big."

"Not so much, I'm thinkin'." Encouraged by the lack of missiles, he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair. "What's with the barrage?"

"I'm late." She blinked up at him, twisted her neck to look into his face. Her eyes were reddened from crying, her lashes stuck to each other in little spikes.

"Late for what, dumplin'? We ain't got no appointments to keep for days."

She slapped his hand pettishly. "Not that kinda late. Late."

Light dawned. "Oh. Late." He swallowed, hard. "How...late?"

"Six weeks." Kaylee sniffed again, her tears fading. "Ain't never been late before, Mal. Not once. Regular as a regulator."

"Oh. Late." He held her close, trying to work out how to respond. "That's why the plates? You couldn't just tell me? Y'know, I ain't never learned the language of crockery-throwin'. Though there did seem to be some kinda pattern to the way you threw 'em."

"Erm...excuse me."

Mal's head whipped around, and he grinned then slowly turned Kaylee to see Simon, red-faced, peering out from under the table.

"Do you mind if I just...?" The doctor squirmed out, attempting unsuccessfully to brush dust from his knees.

Kaylee gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh, I didn't, I never ... sorry, Simon. Kinda forgot you were there."

Simon straightened up, gathering his dignity around him as best he could. "I'll just..." he sidled over towards the door, reddening further under their scrutiny. "I'll be wanting to see you in the infirmary later, Kaylee."

"What? Why?"

"Doc's right, Kaylee." Mal was somewhat surprised to hear himself say the words, but the man did have a point, for once.

Simon waited for a moment, but they'd forgotten him again. When Kaylee twisted in Mal's embrace and lifted her face for a kiss that quickly grew heated, Simon turned and fled.

***

Returning to his room, Simon found a note pinned to the door. A note smelling of vanilla and cinnamon. He read it through twice, refolded it, and raised it to his nose to inhale the rich scent of Inara's shuttle.

Comments

[jayneswoman.livejournal.com]

I like the pairing of Mal and Kaylee. Their characters would seem to balnce each other out. I see it written so rarely that I really enjoy it when I see it. Kaylee's bubbliness and happiness would balance out Mal's cynicism, I think.

Good job, woodsong! I'll be looking out for more from you.

Sorry there's no Rayne. It would fit well with these pairings. And my Jayne is cross that you've given him no love interest. Go here he is with a gun pointed at you!! And he's pretty damn angry... ;)

[vae]

The request was no Rayne, so, no Rayne! I usually write slash *g* so I find it hard to write Mal with Kaylee. Wash with Kaylee, though, that's just an overload of cuteness which I adore.

And I have a weakness for the Rayne, as well.

[kiaforrest.livejournal.com]

You know - when I first read this, I couldn't see Mal cowering from anyone... and then, I thought about Zoe giving him The Look & Kaylee's Glare and yeah - I *could* see this ::giggle::

[vae]

Hormonal Kaylee glaring, yelling and throwing plates? I think Mal would hide. Hell, I think Zoe would hide!

[vae]

thanks! It's really not my usual style, but when I read the prompt, I just saw Kaylee flinging crockery around...

[glimmerite.livejournal.com]

Awww. *snuggles Kaylee and glares at Mal for missing the point*\

And what's up with the S/I? ... Don't be giving me your plot bunnies! I won't have it! *snickers*

[profshallowness.livejournal.com]

I enjoyed this a lot - the characterisation, particularly via the dialogue, was often uncanny, and the developing and developed relationships were plausible.

"Do you mind if I just...?" The doctor squirmed out, attempting unsuccessfully to brush dust from his knees.

Kaylee gasped, hands flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh, I didn't, I never ... sorry, Simon. Kinda forgot you were there."
was funny and said it all about where we'd got to.

There were one or two things about Simon that seemed a little too early days on the ship, for me, but overall, this was really entertaining.