“Well, high school is supposed to be four years, but I got that done in two. College was another four years, but I managed to chip that down to two as well. Medical school I managed to finish in three, and then I only needed a year of residency to pass the exam,” Simon shrugged. “I was rather young, though. A twenty-two year old surgeon? No one was willing to let me cut them open unless I had some grey-haired stiff standing next to me, even though I was fully qualified.”

Kaylee gaped at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open. When she had asked Simon just how much education he had to go through to be a doctor, she hadn’t quite anticipated all of that. She knew he was smart, but...

“So, what about you?” Simon poked Kaylee in the shoulder playfully, completely ignorant of the fact that Kaylee was starting to look embarrassed. She cleared her throat nervously.

“Well, I went to a nice grade school in the next town over...it was real small. Only eight kids in my whole class.”

“Wow, that must have been nice. Knowing everyone in your class,” Simon commented. "Very cozy and personal. It was too easy to get lonely surrounded by all those people at my schools."

“Yeah, I guess,” Kaylee blushed at her somewhat less prodigious academic career. “I didn’t do too good though, with my schoolin’. Seems like all I ever was good at was machines.”

“You’re good at so many other things besides machines, Kaylee,” Simon said truthfully. “It’s just you’re so astronomically genius at them, that everything else you excel at pales in comparison.”

Simon noticed her shoulders ease up, and he knew his mouth had finally said the right thing, the right way, just as they were intended. That certainly was a first.

“Wow, thanks, Simon,” Kaylee grinned, pleased both at the compliment and the fact that they had been talking for a while now and she hadn’t stomped off in a huff yet. “That’s real nice to hear, comin’ from a certified brainiac like you.”

“So, what about after grade school?”

Kaylee fidgeted, but Simon wasn’t really paying attention to her shoulders anymore. He had just realized that when Kaylee’s mouth went a certain way, she had the slightest shadow of a dimple. Every time he discovered something new about her, he became completely distracted.

“I learned to read and I learned my times tables and how to sum together parts for my daddy. Actually, I did real good at the maths part of schoolin’.” She grinned proudly. Simon nodded, his attention pulled to her endearing smile. It made complete sense that the mechanical prodigy excelled in mathematics. “Oh, and I learned my colors, shapes, and the sounds farm animals made, too.”

Simon laughed.

“Yeah, and I guess that was it,” Kaylee said sheepishly.

“That was it?” Simon asked, surprised. “You never went to another class after that? Ever?”

Kaylee shook her head, thoroughly pink in the face. “Nope. Never found the need to. I already had all the smarts I needed to help the folks out. You didn’t need that much learnin’ to do the jobs we found back home.”

Simon was staring at her with nothing short of open admiration, but it was making Kaylee feel as if she were on display. She had never felt so much like a dumb farm girl from an outer planet in her life. Why was the handsome, rich, gifted surgeon from the Core looking at her like that?

“Simon, do I have somethin’ on my face?” Kaylee asked, suddenly very insecure.

“No, it’s just…I’ve have so many years of schooling, so much studying, and so much tuition…and I fought hard to become a good surgeon.”

What was that supposed to mean? Kaylee scowled, taking offense. She got up and glared. “That’s a nice thing to know, Mr. Surgeon-From-The-Inner-Core. It’s a gorram shame not all us prairie harpies got enough brain parts to – “

“No, no!” Simon said quickly, determined not to screw up yet another “moment” with Kaylee. He suddenly realized what he must have sounded like, a pompous braggart, but that had not been his intention at all. He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away pointedly. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Kaylee threw up her hands. “Look, sorry if you’re wastin' time with the dumb she-monkey carryin’ the box of screwdrivers, but – “

“Kaylee, please,” Simon insisted, pulling her back down. “It’s just…it’s amazing how smart you are.”

Kaylee stared. “Huh?”

“I mean, you’re the most intelligent girl and a genius engineer, all without ever graduating from elementary school,” Simon held her firmly in place. He was going to fix this, even if it meant taking a slap to the face for not letting her go. “You’re smarter than most of the people who I made surgeon with, the way you handle machinery.”

A hint of a smile broke upon Kaylee’s face and for once, and Simon breathed a sigh of relief. Crisis averted. Hopefully he wasn't coming off as clueless as he usually did.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. People told River and I all the time that we were gifted, but do you have any idea how gifted you are?”

“Well, now…” Kaylee giggled, her ears going slightly pink. The good doctor could be quite the charmer, if he tried hard enough.

“Imagine if you had just gotten a little more schooling,” Simon mused, more to himself than to Kaylee. “If you only had the opportunity for college and studied engineering with the best and the brightest. I can’t even fathom – you could have invented all sorts of things!”

There was a long beat of awkward silence that even Simon noticed. He froze, unable to think of any words that might save him.

Kaylee could barely believe it. It wasn't only what he said, it was the fact that he had accidentally made her feel stupid and insignificant again. She knew very well it was an accident, but he had done it again. How many times was she supposed to sit there and tolerate it? He had been on the right track, saying all the right things, yet in an instant he had thrown a damn monkey wrench right into the middle their moment. Every time…just when she thought he was going to…

Kaylee stared at him again, her ears flushing red for an entirely new reason. “Yeah, well, I didn’t.”

“Kaylee?”

“I’m real sorry I didn’t, though,” Kaylee said dryly, getting back up onto her feet. “I didn’t go to some big Core university and make use of my ‘gift’. Was a lil’ busy, what with all the workin’ my off my tail to not starve to death out there in the dust bowl.”

“Kaylee, I didn’t mean – “

“I know what you mean, hun dan,” Kaylee said coldly, making her way to the hatch. “My gift was wasted on a dumb hick mechanic working on a junk-bucket ship run by petty thieves, right?”

She was gone, probably to seek refuge with Inara. Simon’s mouth hung open, wondering how on Earth-That-Was he had managed to wreck another potentially good time with Kaylee. It was astonishing, how he succeeded in doing this every single time. Why was it that women were more complicated to him than treating Sub-Arachnoid Hemorrhaging? Life really should not be the way Simon's was unraveling. He leaned over to bang his forehead on the makeshift coffee table.

River slinked in through the hatch after Kaylee had stormed out. She rolled her eyes at her brother and retreated to her room.

Simon didn’t have to be psychic to know River thought he was a boob.

- - -

Jayne was holding a can upside down in the kitchen and peering at the ingredients label when Simon walked in, still perplexed at how he had managed to anger Kaylee so quickly.

“Doc,” Jayne greeted gruffly, without looking up. “Say, Doc, think you could take a look at this?”

Simon sighed, wondering how the oaf had managed to hurt himself this time. He was a little bewildered when Jayne handed him the can. Simon looked at him curiously.

“What?”

“I don’t get it,” Jayne shrugged. “I can’t open it, and it don’t fit the can opener. I was ready to blast it open with my shotgun, but then you waltzed on in and I remembered how you Core folk frown upon men shootin’ at things don’t need shootin’ at. Buncha sissies.”

Simon stared incredulously at him. “Jayne?”

“Yeah, Doc?”

“This is a can of spray cheese. You don’t open it,” Simon placed his finger on the nozzle and spritzed it in the air to demonstrate. “You spray it.”

“Oh, no wonder it wouldn’t open!” Jayne realized, delighted at having solved one mystery of the universe. He snatched the can of spray cheese back and proceeded to spray it directly into his mouth, humming the “Hero of Canton” folk song all the while.

“See, that’s what I meant!” Simon groaned to no one in particular. “She had a minimal education and she’s a tian cai. It was meant as praise! I mean, look at you, you ended up being a – “

“A what?” Jayne snarled, but Simon was no longer paying attention to him

“I should have just quit while I was ahead,” Simon sighed, and shoved past the larger man to take a seat at the table. “But my mouth just kept going. I’m never going to figure out why it does that.” He put his chin on the table and covered his head with his hands.

Jayne had long lost interest and continued to spray the cheese into his mouth. Inara sauntered in and winced at his manners.

“That’s barbaric, Jayne,”

“I don’t care, you ain’t havin’ any. I paid for this cheese with my own cut,” Jayne clutched the can protectively. “I ain’t sharin’ it with nobody if I don’t want to.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Inara sighed, knowing full well that was as far a conversation could go with Jayne Cobb. Instead, she turned to the doctor, who looked as though he was trying to smother himself into the table. “Hello, Simon.”

“Hi…” Simon looked up. “Hey, has Kaylee - ?”

“She’s not too happy with you right now,” Inara offered him a pitying look. He had been right; she had gone to see Inara. However that wasn't exactly a revolution in thinking, seeing as Kaylee often went running to her after Simon crashed and burned. Inara considered it part of her crew duties to comfort Kaylee and then go assure Simon that all was not yet lost.

“Great.”

"What'd you say to her this time?" Jayne snickered. "This rate you ain’t ever gonna get to spread-leggin’ the girl. Least not 'til you're both old and wrinkly and dangly and - "

Inara shot him a look and Jayne sneered in return.

“Yes, well, it didn't sound that bad this time. After the meeting you have a chance to patch it up with her,” Inara said encouragingly. “She’ll be here shortly.”

Simon and Jayne looked at her. “Meeting?”

“Yes, Mal just informed us to gather here in the dining area. He’s ‘got some words’.” Inara rolled her eyes.

“You sure he meant you?” Jayne asked, taking another shot of his aerosolized cheese. “Why’d he want to get you mixed up in our heists?”

“Legitimate business enterprises, remember? Not ‘heists’.” Wash strolled in and took a seat by Jayne. Jayne sprayed more cheese onto his tongue and Wash’s face twisted in disgust, quickly relocating to a chair by Simon. Zoë came in next, and Wash made sure she sat away from the cheese-spraying mercenary.

“Okay, folks, who’ve we got here?” Mal clapped his hands and rubbed them together as he marched into the dining area, unusually chipper. “Where’s the preacher? And Kaylee? And your sister? Nobody listens to the captain these days, gorram it.” He playfully slapped Simon in the shoulder and the doctor nearly toppled off his chair.

“River went into her room just a little while ago. I think she’s napping.” Simon said, rubbing at his shoulder.

“So what about - ?”

“Right here, Mal,” Shepherd Book nodded in greeting as he sidestepped past the captain. “And I think I saw Kaylee...”

“Here,” Kaylee grumbled, trudging in and leaning against the wall as far away from Simon as possible. She made a point to keep her eyes focused on the ceiling, with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Mal looked at his mechanic, and then at his medic. Shipboard romances were never a good idea, and he held firmly to that belief. Except, maybe when they were, in Zoë and Wash’s case. But that surely didn’t mean everyone had to go and do it. It was setting up for a world of unpleasantness and besides, the doc was far too much of a stiff to handle the bright, bubbly, occasionally irritating personality of Kaylee Frye.

He couldn’t bring himself to roll his eyes, though, seeing as he was in a very good mood, for a very good reason.

Zoë raised an eyebrow at Mal's uncharacteristic happiness and Kaylee's equally uncharacteristic gloom. “Excuse me, sir, but did you clock heads with Kaylee? Because I’m all for good cheer, but it’s a lot cuter when she does it.”

"Not to mention less creepifying," Wash added. “Perky is not a good color on you.”

Mal chose to ignore them, instead planting his palms on the table and looking the rest of his crew in the eyes. “Okay, people, listen up. I'm going to have Wash here set us on a four-hour route to Gravine.”

Zoë perked up. “Gravine? Is that…do you mean to say…don’t tell me we got a job with Grant?”

Mal nodded proudly. He knew Zoë would catch on immediately. “Grant.”

“Jing cai, now that’s shiny.” Zoë grinned, giving her husband’s knee an enthusiastic squeeze.

Wash looked back and forth between them. “Who? What? Why are we happy?”

Mal paced around the dining table excitedly as he spoke. “We got a job with Barracuda Grant up on Gravine, Wash. That’s why me and Zoë’s got these big ole smiles on our faces. Barracuda-gorram-Grant.” He gave Jayne an excited slap on the back that nearly made him cough up his spray cheese.

Wash blinked. “So…are we just really excited that he’s got a ridiculously funny first name? Or is it his middle name?”

“Grant’s somewhat of a philanthropist, Wash,” Book said knowingly. “He was a drifter out here in the Black himself, until he hit it big with his discovery of Grantonian ore. Since then, he busies himself on Gravine with the ore and minerals business, giving ‘freelance transport ships’ legitimate jobs with very generous pay.” He said “freelance transport ships” with an uplifted brow and somewhat amused emphasis.

“You ain’t ever told us how you know so much ‘bout the workin’s out here on the edge, Preacher,” Jayne grunted.

“That’s right, I haven’t,” Book agreed vaguely.

"It's easy money," Mal said. "Which we sorta need, since our last heist went a little south."

Inara coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "I told you those artifacts were fake" into her hand.

"Hey, you never know what those looters managed to salvage after Earth was shot," Mal said defensively. “Those guys were thorough!”

"But King Tut, Mal?”

“This Grant guy sounds like a sweetie,” Kaylee said, all smiles again. “That’s real nice of him. Wonder how much he's payin' us?”

“Mei mei, imagine your very own crate of strawberries,” Mal ran a hand fondly through her ruffled hair. “With enough left over to buy a pretty new shirt and some shiny new engine part with a disturbingly long name.”

Kaylee’s eyes widened. "You mean an MCE-socketed omnidirectional boost charger with built-in thermoregulating board?"

"Are those outrageously expensive?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's all yours."

"Hu che!"

“He’s dead serious,” Zoe was smiling nearly as wide as Kaylee. “’Course, it won’t be enough for us to retire on, split between us. But even after setting aside some for necessities, there could still be enough to pay for…say, a nice vacation…”

Wash’s expression was likened to that of Kaylee thinking about the crate of strawberries and a new MCE-socketed omnidirectional boost charger with built-in thermoregulating board.

“Well, we’re lucky we happened to be in range when he sent that wave,” Mal nodded. “He sends it out to every ship within range and the first to answer meets up with him. He’s real picky about who he hands off these jobs to, though. Ain’t sure what the criteria are, but he’s got to find you worthy first. You have to practically write an essay and have an interview.”

“He keeps track of folk he employs, so’s the greedy folk don’t just hang out ‘round the planet and steal as many jobs as they can,” Zoe added. “Even brings Alliance in every so often, to clear his atmo.”

“Gravine isn’t that bad of a planet, either. Probably thanks to Grant,” Inara mused. “I’ll have to check the computer; I might actually find some really good clients.”

“Wait, what was that about Alliance?” Simon asked.

“Not to worry, Doc,” Mal assured him. “Barely any Alliance on Gravine, usually. Grant was an undercover Browncoat during the war, a spy, and he’s managed to keep them at bay for the most part. They like him, because he keeps the restless…less...unrestful.”

“Seems like your kind of man, Mal,” Book said.

“That he is. Where’d you think I got the money for this boat from?”

Kaylee brightened. “Mr. Grant’s the reason we’ve got Serenity!?”

“That’s right,” Mal nodded, grinning at the memory. “Paid me and Zoë twenty thousand credits just to shuttle some lumber to a moon not ten jinxes away.”

Jayne whistled. “I don’t get it. Ain’t no man gives that good a deal without a catch.”

“Some people have hearts, Jayne,” Book told him.

“I got heart! But I only got one,” Jayne grunted. "Ain't no need to get it shot at for someone else."

“Anyway,” Mal said sternly, to keep Jayne in check. “We should be docking in a few hours, but I called you in here to warn you to be on your best behavior. Throw on some decent fits, try to smell human, and you put that gorram cheese can back in your bunk, Jayne.”

“Aw, Mal…” Jayne whined.

“I’m serious. This man’s done us all sorts of pleasantries. Least we could do is not smell like a herd of cows.”

“Malcolm Reynolds, are you actually going to take a shower?” Inara feigned surprise. "Is it July already?"

“Ha ha. Just so happens, I even got a clean set of fits laid out in my bunk.” Mal placed a rough hand on her shoulder and squeezed lightly, causing her to jump a little at the contact. Inara couldn’t kid herself, she was mildly impressed. Mal had a great deal of respect for Barracuda Grant, the man who all but gave him his home, and by extension, his family.

Suddenly, there was the sound of metal hitting metal. The entire crew swiveled around to find River at the entrance of the dining area. She had thrown a spoon to the floor.

“Not real silver.”

“River, I thought you were taking a nap,” Simon got up to escort his sister back down below.

“It’s not real silver, Simon!” River struggled to get away from her brother. “It can’t go in with the rest!”

“None of them are real silver, darlin’,” Mal moved in to help Simon if he needed it. He plucked the spoon off of the floor. “We ain’t rich. Yet, anyways.”

“Then why is it on the floor?” River challenged him. Everyone just stared blankly after her as Simon took her back down.

- - -

Mal silently made his way to Inara’s shuttle after they had docked at Grant’s grounded Space Center. No sooner had he step one foot inside, Inara knew he was there.

“Knocking doesn’t hurt, you know,” Inara did not turn around from her computer, which was displaying files of prospective clients on the screen. “You dislocate mandibles with that fist practically on a daily basis, but you always seem to find knocking so painfully difficult.”

“I’d probably knock if your door were made of human chins, then,” Mal said, strolling in as if he had received a formal invitation. “Though mostly ‘cause one doesn’t usually barge in on the type of folk who make their doors out of human chins. Demands a moment’s hesitation, don’t it?”

“What do you want?” Inara turned finally and gasped in shock. Mal was wearing clean clothing. His brown coat was clean, his shirt was white, and his pants where the dark ones he’d worn to the ball on Persephone. Not a bullet hole or bloodstain to be seen. Even his hair was somewhat tamed, so that it didn’t look like he had come off on the wrong end of a hair-pulling fight with a five-year-old girl. “Mal, you look…”

“Dashing? Ruggedly handsome?”

“I was going to say ‘less like the man who follows circus elephants around with a shovel’, but you can think what you want.”

“Yeah, well, just checkin’ up. Got your business all in order?” Mal peered over her shoulder.

“Actually, yes.” Inara clicked her computer off, before Mal got sight of any of her potential clients. The man was just one big, walking invasion of privacy. “In fact, Mr. Grant himself has made an offer.”

Mal’s smirk faded slightly. “The guy’s nearin’ 60.”

“Age isn’t anything but a number, Mal,” Inara said sagely. “I’ve had older clients before.”

Mal looked as though he wanted to say more, but he gave up. Inara frowned at his expression. He usually had some kind of smart - or cheap- remark to lob back at her. She’d certainly set him up for one.

“What, is this going to be a problem?”

Mal shrugged. “Might be for him. I’ve heard stories ‘bout what advanced age does to your ‘ability,’ so to speak.“

“Is that really what you want to say about your old friend, Captain?” Inara was scowling, yet she was satisfied. There was the response she was looking for. Mal looking somewhat triumphant at her look of distaste, and her growing infuriated by his smug expression. It was just plain weird any other way.

“All right, then, Wash already has your shuttle set up for launch. You can leave when need be.”

“Thank you,” Inara nodded. “I’ll be sure to speak well of Serenity. Maybe he’ll even be more inclined to give you brigands another job.”

A reluctant smiled appeared on Mal’s face. “Brigands. I think I like that better than ‘petty thieves’.”

“Now the polite thing to do would be to find a nicer title for me other than ‘whore’.” Inara tossed her hair back.

“Lady of the Evening?”

“Get out.” Inara made sure to swallow down the laugh that was threatening to bubble up. There was no need to encourage Mal. He got along fine without it. “Get out now, and maybe I won’t tell Grant about the Great Bobble-Head Geisha Caper and the King Tut Incident.”

“I knew I let you rent out my shuttle for a reason.” Mal winked and made his way out, but not before Inara tilted her head to catch a glimpse of his retreating form.

Captain Tightpants indeed.

- - - - END CHAPTER 1- - - - Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you honestly think, I'm relatively new to Firefly, but I love it a whole lot :-P

Oh and also, next update should be up by Wednesday if all goes according to plan. And I'm not quite as disaster prone as Mal and his crew, but I do have my moments :-)

Chapter 2: http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=15972