Mal sat in the galley alone, clearing away the mess that had been left after dinner. The ship was quiet, as everyone had turned in for the night. Half grumbling to himself that Kaylee had neglected her turn to wash up, presumably to spend more time in Simon’s bunk, Mal stacked the dishes in the sink.

Finishing, he was about to turn in when he heard something. He paused. Someone was whistling.

Nonplussed, Mal followed the sound, and found his way to the infirmary. He watched, half in amusement, half in disbelief, as Simon moved around the room, tidying, and all the while whistling softly to himself.

When he was done, Simon dimmed the lights and turned, to find Mal standing in the doorway.

“Son of a…” he yelled. He attempted to compose himself. “Captain. Something I can do for you?”

Mal grinned. “Feelin’ a mite cheerful, aren’t we?”

Simon looked vaguely abashed, but was smiling nonetheless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Mal agreed. “So your whistling a happy tune like you ain’t got a care in the ‘verse, that ain’t got anything to do with my lil’ Kaylee?”

Simon actually blushed at that, and Mal laughed out loud. “Oh, you’ve got it bad.”

“Maybe,” Simon said softly. The two men moved back into the infirmary, Mal leaning against the counter and watching the doctor as he found something else to fiddle with.

“And is there any particular reason why you’re interested?” Simon asked, not looking up. The though of Mal taking an interest in his love life struck an ominous chord within him.

“You just make me chuckle is all,” Mal said. “The prissy, core-bred doctor spends eight months on this boat and refuses to let go of his refined ways. Then my mechanic gets him in the sack and suddenly he’s whistling…”

Simon laughed.

“And smiling!” Mal added, sounding incredulous.

“I know, it’s hard to believe, but I’m actually not a robot,” Simon said.

There was a comfortable pause.

“So tell me,” Mal said, “what took you so long?”

Simon sobered slightly. “All sorts of reasons…”

“Like what?”

Mal met Simon’s weary expression with an amused grin, and somehow he felt compelled to answer.

“Well, River for one… I guess I thought she needed my full time attention. And Kaylee … to Kaylee, everything’s always so simple … and my life is anything but.”

“Didn’t wanna drag her down with you?” Mal enquired.

“Something like that.”

Mal shook his head. “For all your smarts you can be mighty dim when it comes to people, Simon.”

“It’s been said,” Simon agreed.

There was another moment’s pause, before Mal asked another pressing question.

“And do you love her?”

Simon met his gaze, and Mal could see a glimmer of defiance in his blue eyes. “Yes.”

“Huh. Good. ‘Cos I don’t want my mechanic gettin’ all upset. I’ve woke up to no gravity before an’ it ain’t an experience I wish to repeat.”

Simon surveyed the captain calmly. “Why are we having this discussion, captain?”

Mal looked at his feet, shifting uncomfortably, and didn’t answer. “How’d you tell her?”

There was a pause, and Mal looked up. “You have told her?”

Simon nodded. “Yes. I just told her. It seemed like the thing to do.”

“You told her without messing up?”

“I think I’m growing.”

“Well,” Mal said, blinking. “I’m shocked my own self. And all kinds of proud.”

“Are you always this sentimental,” Simon joked, and Mal grinned, remembering.

“So when did you know?”

“Know what?” Simon asked, wondering why he was so oddly comfortable with this increasingly unusual conversation.

“That you loved her…”

Simon moved over to straighten the infirmary chair, considering. “It’s not like I woke up one morning and knew. It just, crept up on me.” He looked back at Mal. “But I know I’ve been denying it to myself for a long time.”

There was a short pause, and then he continued. “But it’s only so long you can deny things, even to yourself. You can have any reason in the ‘verse to run away, but once you…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“Fall,” Mal supplied. “Once you fall there’s no climbing back up?”

Simon surveyed the captain thoughtfully. “Are you speaking from experience?”

Mal shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. “Just getting’ caught up in your poetical yapping,” he said lightly.

Unconvinced, Simon nodded politely. “Well.”

“Well,” Mal agreed. Then, “Don’t let me be keeping you. I’m sure lil’ Kaylee’s waiting on you.”

Smiling, Simon followed Mal out of the infirmary, shutting the door behind them.

“Goodnight, captian,” he said.

“Night ‘doc,” Mal replied, heading for the stairs.

Simon thought for a moment, then on a whim, called after the captain. “Mal?”

Mal paused halfway up the stairs. “Yep?”

There was laughter in Simon’s voice as he spoke. “Climbing can be hard work, and in my experience, pointless.” He paused. “Falling is preferable.”

Mal let the words seep in; he had the feeling the doctor knew something he shouldn’t.

“Stop talking in riddles,” he said gruffly, “you’re as crazy as your sister.”

Simon just laughed, and as Mal entered his bunk, he could swear he heard the man resume his whistling.