Translations should be in mouse over, thoughts and remembrances in italics.

Thanks to noandwhere for betaing and for prompting me to post this *hugs*

Yesterday is the only place we’ll ever go

“Thought you’d be taller.” Mal’s staring into space, quite literally through the window at the Black, bent on keeping his gaze from the man who stands beside him. The man who brings up more emotion than Mal would have liked. Mayhap a lot of it is anger and he wants to turn around and show him just that, but a lot of it’s something else too. Something Mal pushed away a long time ago.

“Taller?” Simon grins, folding his arms, seeming oblivious despite Mal’s rigid back. “Really, why?

“Just thought you would be taller, sparkly, that sorta thing,” Mal grunts the words, turning to Simon, unable to keep his eyes from the doctor’s. It’s been too long since he’s heard that voice, never mind the grin that somehow makes Simon seem freer. Just a shame he couldn’t be like that when he was my medic, guess being a fugee puts too much of a strain an’ bother.

“Don’t know what I was thinkin’, damn good to see you though.” The words come from his lips in a sudden sentence that leaves an uncomfortable silence between them. Simon’s standing so close, too damn close for Mal’s liking and the Captain takes great pains to move around him.

He isn’t sure why Simon’s back, been three long years yet he chose now; why now of all times especially so close to Christmas. Mal’s not one for such festivities, not believing in much more than the will of people and Fate that the ‘verse has to offer, but the rest of the crew like it. Time they pull together without having to be working on something, without having to worry. Kaylee’s idea to start with, a tradition they carried on with, though the first Christmas on Serenity for Simon and River wasn’t the festivities any of them had planned.

Mourning Book and Wash, the holiday a bleak reminder rather than a celebration, Mal had been tense and merely going though the motions, something that had had no need to rub off on the rest of the crew. Each one had only gone worse from there; Inara had left them, leaving an empty feeling in Mal that was surprisingly easy to get over, he’d found himself missing her friendship more than anything else. Which had only annoyed and confused him all the more. Simon had gone shortly after, River only narrowly avoiding having to go with him, leaving a hole in Mal’s heart that the Captain hadn’t expected.

Too damn late now to do much, even with him standin’ so close. Man’s gotta live with his choices an’ mistakes, can’t go livin’ in the past. No future in it.

“Sparkly? Have you been raiding the infirmary for some new and interesting choice of drug Mal?” Simon’s comeback breaks through Mal’s thoughts and the Captain glances back at him, sighing as he takes a seat at the table. Was a time he’d be faster’n that, would make a snippy comment or get in a snit right off, guess he’s lost his touch.

“What you doing here Simon? Been a long time now, didn’t think you’d be coming back here least of all on Serenity, remember you named her luh suh once.” It’s a low blow and Mal knows it but Simon’s closing the distance between them and sitting down beside him, making Mal more uneasy than he ever remembers being around the doctor.

Course back when he used to be around the doctor, he wasn’t concentrating on how much he wanted him; kept covering up his attraction by making Simon nervous and on edge, always keeping him close and part of the crew but also that little bit away to make him uncertain and agitated.

“A good offence is a great defense, Mal?” Simon’s still smiling and it’s almost maddening to Mal that he hasn’t got more of a reaction out of the doctor, was a time that only a few choice words could do just that. Times Mal misses. “I haven’t called Serenity that in years, you know full well River and I considered it our home.”

“You left, she didn’t.” Mal’s lips are twisting in a bitter parody of a smile down, fingers clenching in on themselves as he’s unable to draw his eyes from Simon’s. From clear blue, briefly clouded with pain, Simon’s smile wavering slightly as he speaks.

“Not by choice, Mal.”

There’s a world of hurt in Simon’s eyes now, making Mal furious at himself for just putting it there and furious at Simon for being the one to instigate this, for being the one to come back to all he gave up and expect everything to be the same.

“Still ain’t got ourselves another medic, have to make do with what River’s learnt; though she ain’t got your touch.” Mal sticks to neutral conversation, tearing his gaze from Simon and picking at the skin around his nails as he speaks, agitation clearly visible through his body language.

“Genius at everything, yet can’t compete with me when it comes to doctoring.” Simon’s leaning forward now, hand on Mal’s stilling the Captain’s actions and much as Mal wants to pull away he can’t. It feels too good to have Simon’s smooth hand on his own, fingers caressing ever so slightly, reassuring and reminding as he speaks. “Nice to know there’s something I was better at.”

If the pretty fits, the comment made an age ago echoes in Mal’s mind as he remembers playing with Simon’s fingers before, covering his attraction with backhanded sarcastic comments which had had Simon pulling away. But he’s not pulling away now, in fact it’s Mal who pulls back, his hand missing the warmth of Simon’s own almost immediately, the skin still tingling from the touch.

“Better at a lot of stuff, Simon.“ Mal coughs, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tightness increasing in his trousers. Pants get tighter every year…Mal eyes Simon intently, watching as the doctor pulls back a flush to his own cheeks and Mal’s more than glad that finally he’s getting a reaction out of him. Finally he’s able to shake the doctor up, making him more like Simon Tam, Serenity’s doctor than this confident, casual man.

“But I’m guessing compliments ain’t why you're here.”

Simon doesn‘t look surprised in the slightest at the sarcastic comment. “Not quite. I came to see you actually Mal.”

Me? Mal expects him to say he’s come to see River, come to beg his sister’s forgiveness for leaving; for putting her through the trauma, for nights of tears and screams and tantrums Mal hadn’t seen the like of since her crazy days. Even maybe to see Kaylee, who Simon had seemed so close to despite their relationship being nothing more than platonic, something that would’ve surprised Mal had he not guessed the boy was sly from the first moment. Part of the reason why he’d been so against it, though in all truth Kaylee seemed happier after finding Simon was, after knowing it wasn’t something wrong with her that kept Simon pushing her away but an incompatibility that could be denied.

His mouth was half open, too confused to find the words he needed, words to ask ‘why’. Or failing that even enough will power to push away the anger inside him that wanted more than to just ignore Simon and walk away. The anger which made Mal want to grasp the doctor by the shoulders, to kiss him deeply as he should have done long before Miranda rather than let his own uncertainties and safer lusts get in the way.

Somehow Mal manages to keep his expression fixed, almost neutral though his eyes darken in fury, and his voice steady almost casual like Simon’s.“You still left Simon. You left Serenity, you left River and you left me and I ain’t never forgiving you for that.” Mal’s voice shakes a little, tremor of resentment coming to the fore as he stares at Simon, hating that he can see the hope there fade.

“That doesn’t surprise me, I don’t forgive me just yet either.” Simon’s words are as close to an apology as Mal knows he’s going to get and it’s not enough, not nearly enough to make up for three lost years, but Mal can’t help wanting to take it. Wanting to forget the last years of loneliness, of barely scraping through, of losing ones that he’s cared for.

Simon shuffles his feet as he stands, wistful expression on his face as he murmurs. “I’m surprised things haven’t really changed. I guess you always hope when you leave a place, you’ll leave a recognisable mark but everyone seems the same. Almost everything, the same…” Simon pauses, his eyes on Mal an unreadable expression on his face as Mal’s breath catches, holding it in as he waits for Simon to continue; for Simon to pick up on what’s between them.

But he doesn‘t and that has Mal on the defensive again, indignant as Simon glances away from him and ignores the things that have changed, the things Mal knows he can see, can also feel.

“‘Verse has changed much. Pretty much everywhere at war now; can’t say I’d miss the Alliance but the last months, been glad for what little they can do, Reavers takin’ the fight to them now stead of stayin’ out in the Black where they belong.” Mal gets to his feet, pushing his chair in and walking away from the galley as Simon falls into step behind him. He has no doubts Simon knows all this but it’s not hurting Mal to make him that little more guilty for leaving, twisting the knife a little more. It’s not intentional but with Simon so near, making Mal’s stomach churn and twist as restrains himself from pulling the man close. Pulling him close and dragging him down to his bunk and keeping him there where he can’t get away again, where he won’t leave again.

No doubts, I’m part the reason he left. He don't need to say it, was written all over his face that day. Shoulda stopped him, shoulda listened to him. lMa-de, pushed him an’ everyone else away an’ Simon couldn’t take it. Bein’ lonely, River all grown up and not needin’, me pushin’ him away an’ the rest of them grievin’; weren’t no wonder he went where he was needed.

Mal’s acutely aware he’s been quiet for too long, so he hurries his words as he hurries his steps, half wondering why Simon’s still following. “Just not here, just keep on flying right past it all. Ain’t giving up on anything here; keep flying, keep finding work, keep going. Things have gotten worse out on the Rim, some of the Core planets on outside fallen too, ain’t so protected now.”

“I guess now all those rich city folk are finally feeling the truth of the 'verse then.” Simon’s glancing at him sideways as they walk, words far too neutral for Mal’s liking and the Captain stops dead in his tracks.

Simon’s expression is unreadable as Mal glances at him sharply, incredulity obvious. He‘s never confessed to having honour in his life, never played anything but the hand he‘s been dealt but he‘d be a liar if he claimed not to have it, not to have at least some kind of moral code. It smarts somewhat that Simon might think otherwise, almost like a betrayal that he would. ”I don’t hold to that thought, doc; not innocent folks dying or bein’ grabbed off their world just to shake them out of belief of the Alliance, thought you’d know me better than this.”

“It has to get worse, before it gets better sometimes.” Simon sighs, raising his head as Mal glowers at him, the Captain’s hostility obvious. “No Mal, I never believed you did. I just had to be sure. You worry that you made the right decision don’t you? That we did by pitting the Alliance against the Reavers?”

This is not a conversation Mal wants to be having, truth be told right now all he wants is some sake and either the blissful silence of a deep and untroubled sleep or Simon writhing underneath him, lost in passion rather than lament. “Can’t be thinking on regrets now, old enough and ugly enough to make our own choices right or wrong. Them people on Miranda, their story needed tellin’ an’ we were the only ones who could.”

Mal’s hand pauses on the hatch to his bunk after he pushes it open, reflecting on his words. He’s never said them aloud, never thought on justifying anything but just hearing himself say them has given him more conviction than he had before, made the knot of tension within him ease slightly as he moves away from the hatch, closer to Simon.

“You’re thinkin’ we did wrong.”

It‘s a statement Mal doesn‘t want to believe and instantly Simon‘s shaking his head, lips firmly pressed together, expression more sure than Mal‘s ever seen it.

“Never.” The word’s soft but rolls so easily from Simon’s tongue as Mal stands in front of him, bodies inches apart yet close enough from Mal to feel the heat from Simon. A heat that only increases as he cups the man’s face, touch more aggressive than gentle, thumb on Simon’s jaw tilting his head fingers around his neck. Yet Simon doesn’t move.

Gorram it, what the hell.

It’s a bad idea and Mal knows it, but he’s halfway there now; not wanting to let Simon go, half wanting the doctor to step back and pull from his grip but Simon just stands there, eyes on Mal’s with soft smile on his lips and suddenly Mal’s not only aroused, not only desiring Simon but furious at him again. The gap between them is minimal but Mal closes it in a moment, pushing Simon against the wall, one hand fisting in his too-neat shirt as the other still grips his jaw. Aggressively, almost punishing Simon as he claims the doctor’s lips in a harsh kiss, taking advantage of Simon’s startled gasp and pushing his tongue between barely parted lips.

Mal’s not normally one for just hard and fast and this is never how he fantasised their first kiss to be but he can’t draw back, the taste of Simon is just too damn good and Mal can’t get enough of it; kiss slowing becoming less harsh as Simon tentatively responds, tongue pushing back against Mal’s, the doctor’s hands grasping at his hips. Losing himself in the moment, in the taste of Simon, the scent of him, Mal teases the sensitive palate at the top of Simon’s mouth, tongue ghosting the inside of his lips and under his tongue, claiming and exploring every part. And Simon is just as eager, so responsive and enthusiastic as his fingers grip that little bit tighter on Mal’s hips.

The Captain’s heady now, unable to stop kissing, feeling a tightening in his pants that he grinds against Simon’s obvious arousal and Simon’s groaning against him, the sounds barely muffled as Mal rocks against him, still pinning him to the wall and firmly in place, keeping him right where he wants him. Right where Mal’s always wanted him. For a moment the stray thought crosses Mal’s mind, why he hasn’t done this before and why he waited this long and it all comes rushing back, reason and realization. The anger, the feeling of betrayal and loss, and regret, bittersweet regret that he never did this before.

Mal pulls back, hating the loss against his body, savouring the taste that’s fading all too quickly from his mouth. Simon’s staring up at him a stunned look on his face, breathless and no longer smiling just running his tongue over his mouth .

“Why’re you here? Why now Simon?” Mal hates that he has to ask the question, that he can’t just ignore his own mind and emotions and switch off, immersing himself in Simon and only Simon. But he needs to know, can’t let Simon get away without answering any the longer. Mal wants to say more, wants to force Simon to look him straight in the eye and ask for his forgiveness even though he knows it’s never going to happen.

“If you could do it all over again, would you? Would you change anything?” Simon’s regained his breath now, though his eyes have lost their happy sparkle, now shadowed with doubt and unhappiness and Mal wants to shoot himself for ruining the moment between them.

“Not a damn thing.” Mal schools his expression into neutrality, not liking Simon to see the pain he can feel twisting his belly manifesting there. Still with Simon looking at him so steadily as hope and desperation flickers briefly on his face for a moment, Mal can’t help hesitating and adding a softer mutter, “Not that it’s possible anyway.”

“What’s not possible?” Simon’s stepping towards him now, closing the distance once more and Mal is aware he can’t step back any further in case he falls down the hatch, can’t get away from the maddeningly calm man that drives all his restraint from him.

Mal shakes his head, smirk coming to his face, defensive again and confused. Gotta be the stupidest ruttin’ question he ever did ask.

“Changin’ the things that need it, that didn’t need happening. Things that don’t make no sense.“ Mal’s gripping the side of the hatch, dangerously close to losing the calm façade he’s put up. “Gorramit in hell Simon, use your smarts, meant to be aren’t you? Stop Wash dying, Book dying, stop Inara leaving the damn ship-”

“So you could be with her.” Mal can see the defeat in his body as speaks but it’s not a question Simon interrupts with and this time it’s Mal whose moving closer, their bodies barely touching, Mal vibrating with the need to pull Simon close.

“Ain’t her I’m wantin’ Simon, ain’t her I wasted time not bein‘ with.” His words are low, completely honest taking down every barrier he once put up between them. “Just regret makin’ things so difficult,” It’s getting harder for Mal to swallow, harder for him to ignore reason just as it is for him to ignore the emotions that Simon’s return has brought back.

“Who Mal?” Simon’s looking up at him now, a tinge of hope on his face as he presses his lips together, needing to hear the words that Mal can’t believe have to be said. He wants to shake Simon, wants to draw him close and never let go but there’s no doubt in his mind it’s to late for that.

“You Simon, should never have let you go that day. Shouldn’t have been so damn stubborn and pulled back from you all. Woulda thought losin’ so much, woulda brought us all closer, only I kept pushin’ you all away.” Mal stumbles over the words, dry mouthed and finding it hard to swallow, still unable to let the anger go, an anger not only directed at Simon but at himself now. Self-loathing for being too strong, for thinking it better to push aside and keep pushing even after his excuses all left him.

“Grief affects us all differently. You retreated in on yourself, had to keep yourself strong and solid for the rest of us like a backbone.”

Mal can’t help clenching his fists at that, feeling like Simon is making excuses for the both of them. “Yeah an’ you went off, first planet we got a job at and started doctoring a buncha folks that couldn’t pay a penny.”

It was never the lack of coin that was the issue though, Mal had made sure everyone thought it was -especially Simon- but in truth he’d been scared and furious that Simon had run off and got himself set up caring for people so ill. Furious that he’d run from the ship, even if Simon had assured him it was only for the duration that Serenity was planetside and working their job.

He hadn’t had to have Simon spell it out for him, to explain how desperately he had to feel needed, to feel like a doctor and do something worthwhile. It had been Simon’s own way of coping, shutting out what he hadn’t been able to do and who he hadn’t been able to save, by saving where he could and running himself ragged in the process. It had been days later that Mal had realised why Simon had needed to doctor the sick so badly, but by then it was too late. You made your bed, now you lie in it. He’d been so annoyed, that he’d refused to let anyone go and assist Simon, though River still went days later than she would have liked, when Mal’s temper had finally simmered down.

“I don’t pay my crew to go muckin’ about, on their own foolish heroics. You get sick, you stay there, you ain’t coming back aboard my boat or bringin’ anythin’ with you.”

His words had come back to bite him in the pigu. They’d both become ill, both become infected and part of the epidemic. Simon’s pride and Mal’s words had been enough to convince Simon not to call back to the ship, not to ask for help. River had been the one to tell them, to call in when the infectious period had ended but the true sickness only just begun, to beg for the help she knew her brother wouldn’t and to stop what she knew was going to come.

Mal hadn’t thought twice then about going to get them, calling on Zoe and Jayne to help him collect their wayward crew and surprisingly enough neither one had grumbled against it, just got themselves armed in case, Zoe even going as far to suggest they should have been doing it sooner. It hadn’t been a pretty sight walking into all that sickness, keeping mouths covered and hands gloved up but it had been seeing River stagger to greet them; watching her sway, face pale and eyes unfocussed as she lurched towards them caught only by Mal as she tripped and thrust quickly into Jayne’s arms when Mal saw into the room behind her. He didn’t know if Jayne grumbled about the move, everything else had faded away as he’d strode into that room, eyes on Simon, on the trembling figure upon the bed.

Simon had been hot to the touch and sweating profusely but as Mal had made to pull off the blankets, Simon had whimpered and pulled them closer, Mal’s fingers an inch from the material. The image of Simon had burnt into his memory, the doctor looking closer to death than Mal had ever seen a man. Face white, lips having a bluish tinge as he tried to close unfocussed eyes and wrap himself up away from Mal’s hands.

“Wo de ma.”

Jayne’s quiet words had summed up the situation more than aptly and snapped Mal out his daze, out of simply staring at Simon, clenching his fists and trying to ignore the knot of panic which had slowly unwound in him. It was the first time he’d ever carried Simon, swept him up into his arms, the doctor weighing less than expected; less then Mal had liked.

They’d raided every resource, even looked into pulling another heist in a hospital just to find drugs which could help, the crew pulling together just as they had the year before. They’d almost lost River, even her boosted immune system nearly giving out but they’d dragged her back. Simon’s body had been to weak, too tired to fight it off. It had taken four days, four long painful days which ended as River awoke her fever finally broken, looked at her twitching brother and screamed.

Kinda scream you never forget, kinda sight that tears you in two.

Mal had shut it out, focussing only on River, using her pain to offset his own. Shutting out the rest of the crew as they’d grieved, feeling only anger and hurt all coalescing into a nothingness. A hollow, cold nothingness that settled in his stomach and seeped through to his soul.

“Just kept going, not looking back and flying on.” But not moving on, Mal’s not done that in the last three years, just suppressed the anger and regret…until now.

It doesn’t dawn on him like some new idea; he’s known it all along, been ignoring it as much as he once had done the desire he felt for Simon, the affection he felt. He just can’t ignore it now, the rush of emotion that swamps him, clawing at his chest and severely testing his control.

“Which means you ain’t really here, you’ve not come back..“ Mal’s face tightens in anger as he turns away from Simon, from eyes he remembers seeing cloud over and remain fixed, from the face he remembers covering with a blanket as a pain hit him hard in the gut.

Simon doesn’t try to stop him as Mal climbs down the ladder but Mal can hear him following, see his too-shiny shoes as Simon descends the ladder and he has to turn away from it all. “What in di yu is this!” The words are hoarsely croaked out as Mal stares at the bed in disbelief, not even noticing as Simon moves up behind him.

“It’s you, Mal.” Simon moves round him, perching on edge of the bed, his fingers tracing over the face of the sleeping Captain, a sad soft smile curving his lips as he looked down at the haggard sleeping man.

“You aren’t dead Mal or something as remarkably cliché.” Simon glances up at Mal, watching him intently. But Mal’s past hearing his words, his eyes draw to the image of himself sleeping soundly on the bed, bewilderment lashing through him as he meets Simon’s eyes. He can feel himself sweating, feel the warmth combining with a draught to send an icy shiver down his spine which has everything to do with the situation at hand.

Ghosts don’t sweat but dead men don’t come visitin’ in dreams neither.

“This isn’t just a dream, it’s more a second chance. “ Simon’s quiet words do little to relieve the tension in Mal, the doctor seeming to have read Mal’s mind which makes him more than a little uneasy. One Reader on crew’s enough. Mal has to laugh inwardly at the thought, though it’s not even funny, but the surreality of it all is getting to him, sending him dangerously close to snapping, overwhelmed by confusion and emotion alike.

Simon’s looking around Mal’s bunk noticing how sterile it is in comparison to what he remembers, it’s like no one sleeps here save maybe a passenger. “Hindsight can be both beautiful and a bitch, mostly useless after the fact save for regrets and what ifs.” His eyes flick from the sleeping version of Mal to the aggravated man in front of him. “You’re not the only who regrets things, I have a lot myself which I sadly can do nothing about.”

“Hindsight ain’t much use to me now Simon, most of my crew’ll still be gone as will you come morning.” Mal’s convincing himself this has to be a dream, it’s the only explanation unless that bottle of sake he’d drunk last night had something unpleasant and hallucinogenic floating in it.

“It could be useful before the fact. Not only for myself, by stopping myself working so hard and without the drugs I needed but for other people too.” Simon looks at him under his lashes but this time Mal doesn’t feel aroused, despite how very shuai he looks, he‘s too wound up and jittery. “I’ve got a few Christmas’ to make up, Mal. I never did get you a present, not even that first one, so I’m going to give you one now.” Simon’s standing as he speaks walking casually over to Mal, too casually for Mal’s liking.

Mal backs up a little, back pressed against the ladder to the hatch, hands resting on guns more in confusion than an intent to use, “What’cha talkin’ about Simon?”

But the doctor doesn’t say a word in answer and Mal doesn’t push Simon away as he winds his arm around Mal’s neck. There’s that closeness again and Mal’s barely breathing, not seeing how this can be a dream or illusion when Simon seems too real, feels so real, pressed up against him and stirring his body into taking an interest of it’s own.

Simon’s lips close firmly over Mal‘s, the Captain unwilling to do anything but respond and kiss deeper. Mal’s eyes close and he’s pulling Simon closer now, tongue tracing over Simon’s as he is pulled headlong into a searing kiss which drives everything from his mind, except for Simon’s voice which echoes there.

“Hindsight Mal, in advance.”

Mal gasps, sitting bolt upright, pressing fingers to his still tingling lips as the kiss replays in his mind. Not a nightmare or dream, seeming too real and leaving Mal with a loneliness in the pit of his stomach as he realises Simon’s not coming back. He’s not sure what the dream means, vivid and not as real as he wants it to be, but he rubs at his eyes flinching slightly as Zoe’s voice comes over the comm and startles him.

Pushing himself to his feet and thumbing the button, Mal leans heavily against the wall. “What’s happenin’ Zoe?“ Not that he’s all that interested anymore, he’s just got to keep up appearances.

“Got a wave from Inara, Sir.” Zoe’s voice comes over the comm and there a smile in it that confuses Mal, takes a lot to make Zoe smile these days. “She’s just arrived at the Training house, says we can leave anytime we like now.”

“Training house?” Mal’s feeling the confusion come back again. Inara left years ago to liase between Companions for the guild, not to train them. Last time she’s played on training was just after Early had come on board, a few weeks before River was triggered. “Been drinking somethin’ Kaylee made this morning Zoe?”

“No,” There’s a pause and Mal presses his hand to the comm, “Sir are you alright, maybe you should come up get yourself checked out.”

“Me?” Mal bites back the laugh, managing to pull on his shirt and start buttoning his braces, “I’m thinking you’re the one needs checking out Zoe.”

“Oh I can do that, no worries there.” The voice that comes over the comm makes Mal freeze, accidentally snapping his braces against him and startling him. “Ow, what the-Zoe who in tian xiode was that?” He takes advantage of her pause, flicking his braces closed, even as he hears muffled voices murmuring to each other catching the words, ‘bad night’ muttered.

“Zoe, I ain’t playing here.” Mal grips his belt holstering around his waist, his heart racing as he waits for her answer, as he rushes to dress to see for himself.

“Sorry Sir, that would be my husband Sir. You remember, shortish, fair, came aboard with something less than pleasant above his lip.”

“Wash?” The name’s a strangled groan as Mal sags against the wall, disbelief evident in his voice. Bewilderment and uncertainty rushing through him, though the cold knot inside is unravelling some. He pinches himself hard, cursing as it smarts and Wash finally replies.

“That would be me. I’m thinking maybe we should send Simon to come take a look at you before we fly off, or alternatively you could come up here-”

Wash’s answer is lost as Mal climbs up the ladder, almost slipping in his haste, boots not yet laced. Inara.Wash.Simon.Book? The thought becomes a mantra in his mind as his feet thunder along the corridor and he skids into the galley. The very festive galley with Kaylee and River pausing in their actions, wrapping paper bits together to form a chain. A new chain, not the old and faded things they’ve been using the last few years. Mal can’t bring himself to turn around as he hears feet along the corridor. Unwilling to let the brief dream, fantasy or hallucination go and face cold reality.

“You okay? You don’t look so good.”

Mal misses Kaylee’s frown and comment as he turns around expecting to see only Zoe standing there, despite what he’s heard. It takes him a moment for his brain to catch up to what he sees; to move, to take those few strides forward and pull Wash into a tight hug that has Zoe backing up a confused expression on her face and River dancing out, searching for Simon, knowing what else the Captain needs.

“Oh-kay.” Wash’s voice so familiar and so missed rumbles against his ear and Mal can hear the confusion in it, has to laugh as he pulls away, his grin growing as he stares at the man.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Are you hitting on me?“ Wash’s eyes flick to Zoe, who arches her eyebrow and then back to Mal, “Or have you been hitting something else?”

“No, no, I just-” Mal shakes his head, unable to stop grinning though he drops his hands as Kaylee stands next to them still holding her paper chain. Mal’s gaze drops to it, noticing her smile wavering as she quickly hides it behind her back.

“We ain’t spent much, just wanted to make a nice Christmas being River an’ Simon’s first here.” Kaylee’s smiling at him, so much more optimistic and bubbly than Mal’s used to. “Shepherd’s gonna show us how to make a few more before the party on Haven.”

“Shep-Book?” Mal’s mouth drops open, half suspecting and hoping but the confirmation overwhelming him as he rubs at his face and eyes staring at Wash. Until his attention is diverted to the lithe figure of River entering the galley dragging a shoeless and shirtless Simon with her.

“Simon,” The word is husky and low as it comes from Mal’s lips, drowned out as Simon protests being dragged away, protests not being able to collect his medi-bag.

Hope and need and want and an overwhelming relief all hit Mal at once, almost making his knees buckle, especially as River nudges Simon into him. Simon fills his senses, his scent reminding Mal of the taste of him, hair rumpled, eyes confused and only growing more bewildered as Mal grasps at him.

If this is a dream, I don’t want wakin’ up.

“I’m sorry Captain, River insisted I-”

Mal wants to close his lips over Simon’s and interrupt him but he pulls him into a tight embrace instead, ignoring the feel of Simon so very still against him. It’s like a dream, better than a dream and Mal can remember this moment before though he remembers it playing out very differently and none too cheery.Second chance, suppose with foresight now then hind.

Mal needs to nuzzle against Simon, claim his lips then drag the man down to his bunk for a day or two to reassure him he’s not going anywhere, but he can’t, not just yet. He knows by memory Simon’s not yet told Kaylee he’s sly, though perhaps later in private Mal can go about convincing him to do it sooner rather than later. For now he can wait, he’s waited longer than three years, he can wait a few more months, wait until after Miranda.

He’s not going to stop that happening, stop River being triggered and revealing the secret; he meant as he said before, the victims there had a story that needed telling. One Mal intended to tell. But this time Haven would be empty when the Alliance came looking, this time Wash would be out of his seat seconds after they hit the ground and Mal wouldn’t waste any more time dancing around Simon.

This time he’d do things right, how they were meant to be, no regrets to look back at . Just getting through the trauma with all his crew intact and taking great pains to make sure that not everything that happened later would happen once again.

“Time to make history folks. Let‘s get flying.” There’s a warm feeling inside Mal, the knot almost completely unwound and gone as he releases Simon, the doctor sagging against the table, bafflement on his face. Mal sees a shy smile curve on Simon’s face and he grins, loving the blush that covers Simon’s cheeks in response.

This year Christmas is coming early. Mal smiles at the thought, taking a minute to look over his perplexed crew, smile only growing as he saunters back to the cockpit.