Author: Rawles {rawles[dot]marie[at]gmail[dot]com} Type: Het Genre: Drama/Romance Characters: Simon. Kaylee. Author’s Notes: riginally written for the Firefly Chronicles challenge. Subject: bacon and eggs. A whole AU romance story spun out of it. For better or worse, I haven't written the full story yet.

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Simon had been staring at the number on the door for an interminable amount of time. Three forty-seven. He knew it was the right one. Or at least, he knew that it was the one he thought it was. Something about this felt undeniably wrong, however. He still wondered exactly what he was doing here, in a dirty hallway, staring at a door covered in faded blue paint contemplating... well, he wasn’t even sure himself what he was contemplating. He raised his hand and only hesitated for thirty seconds more before he knocked.

No answer. He knocked again and waited. Still nothing. Simon felt like a balloon someone had abruptly popped. All of that indecision for nothing.

He had wasted time considering the truth of the fact that there were only two people he knew with whom he felt completely at ease. One of them wouldn’t be back from touring with her ballet company for another week. So, he had wasted time wondering at how morally wrong it was for that other person to be a beautiful woman to whom he was not, coincidentally, related. He had wasted time wondering how inappropriate it was for him to even consider being where he was instead of the more neutral territory where they normally interacted. All of that, and she wasn’t even home. He turned to leave, then reconsidered. He had come a long way, and it was not as though he had anywhere else to be. Simon knocked again, louder. He was rewarded with the sound of scuffling, then footsteps on the other side of door. Self-consciously, he brushed the front of his coat with his gloved hands, as though some of the grime of the hallway had gotten to him.

He heard the familiar whir of the electronic lock disengaging. Then the door opened a crack at first, revealing only a single hazel eye. The eye widened as it took him in and the door flung the rest of the way open. Kaylee Frye stood there, resplendent in low-riding cargo pants and a bright red, flower patterned tank top. She stared at him, at first, then her effervescent smile claimed her face and she broke the silence.

“Dr. Tam- Simon, what brings you ‘round here?”

He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. He wasn’t sure why. “Well, I-I was in the area and you told me once that I could drop by any time, so, uh, I decided to take you up on the offer.”

“Oh.”

Simon was slightly disappointed in her response. Kaylee was normally enthused about just about everything. The fact that his visiting her home seemed to take that enthusiasm from her made him feel less than wonderful.

“If you’re busy I can just go.”

“No. No, you don’t have to do that. It’s just-” She paused as their eyes met. Simon felt the urge to look away. He didn’t know what she’d find. She frowned slightly. “There’s something wrong isn’t there?”

“Nothing. Well, besides my-” My parents, my wife, my coworkers, and my life, was what he had been about to say. But before the words left his mouth he had a gut feeling that that was not the right thing to say just then. Going on a pathetic tangent about the pains of a life that most people only dreamed of didn’t seem like a good idea. Simon suddenly found his shoes extremely interesting. “I just had a bad day...” he finished lamely.

She didn’t seem put off at all and had opened her mouth to speak, when another voice came from inside her apartment.

“Kaylee! Who is it?”

Simon recoiled at the male voice and suddenly felt very, very stupid.

“You-you have company. I’m so- I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have just- I’ll go.”

She reached out a hand and grabbed the sleeve of his coat. “No. It’s ok. Just... wait here for a sec. Don’t leave.” She disappeared into her apartment, leaving Simon standing there feeling incredibly awkward. That feeling wasn’t alleviated when Kaylee returned, almost dragging a young man behind her. He was struggling to put on his jacket and turn around to appeal to Kaylee at the same time.

“-on and off like a gorram faucet,” was what Simon caught, before the man turned around saw him. His eyes went from Simon to Kaylee about four times in a second and a look of disbelief spread across his face as he snatched his jacket the rest of the way on.

“I can’t believe you’re puttin’ me out for this fancy dan, Kay.”

Kaylee gave him a little shove the rest of the way out of the door. “Don’t be rude,” she told him. “He’s a friend and he needs me.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does.” He tossed a derisive look Simon’s way. “Just don’t come crying to me when your rich boy uses you and throws you away. I’m tired of you screwing with me, Kay. This was the last time.” Simon watched in stunned silence as the man stomped his way up the steps and out of sight.

He turned and looked at Kaylee who just smiled apologetically.

“Come on in,” she said making room for him to do just that.

Simon moved forward at a somewhat stilted pace, still not entirely sure he believed what had just happened. Kaylee closed the door behind him and the hum of the lock resequencing sounded absurdly ominous to his ears. Kaylee rushed past him and bustled about tidying up, mumbling apologies for the mess. Simon murmured that it was fine. While certainly not opulent Kaylee’s home was a stark contrast to the hall. The single room that apparently served as kitchen, dining room, foyer, and den was very neat and orderly. To the left of the door were two other doors. One, slightly ajar, was the bathroom and Simon guessed the other must be her bedroom. In the corner to the right was a low table scattered with various electronic bits and machine parts that made no sense to Simon, though he was sure they did to Kaylee. A toolbox sat open on the floor beside the table, ready for its mistress to return to it.

The kitchenette was in the adjacent corner, consisting of a counter, a cupboard, a sink, a hot plate, and a small refrigeration unit. Simon noticed that the counter had been painted with green vines that trailed around it, with little flower buds at various junctures. The same sort of design went along the bottom of the walls near the molding. His eyes followed those to the final corner of the room, where sat a couch in front of her monitor and some shelves that ran along that corner. They were covered with various knick-knacks and little treasures. The entire structure was framed with drawings and paintings of flowers, landscapes, sunrises, and things of that nature.

“Did you do these?” he asked, moving towards that corner as Kaylee hung his coat on a free hook near the door. “All of this?”

“Oh, yeah,” she responded. “Place just needed something, you know?”

“I do. They’re very nice.” And they were. They didn’t display the intricate knowledge of technique or form that, say, his sister’s did but they were still pretty. They radiated a certain unrestrained, unrefined emotion that made them attractive. Just like their creator. Simon cleared his throat pulling himself away from that line of thought. In public places, he could have secret guilty thoughts like that all he wanted, but alone with her in her apartment was another story.

“You wanna sit?” Kaylee asked and he obliged her, taking a seat on the worn, but very comfortable couch.

“I’m very sorry about your... friend. I mean, if I caused any damage to your-” he paused. It was obvious that he was the direct cause of any damage to their relationship that had taken place this night.

Kaylee laughed. “Getting rid of Benny Jacobson is only that easy in my dreams, honey. Trust me, he’ll be all right. He’s a nice enough guy just a jot too clingy.” Simon nodded and was caught off guard when Kaylee suddenly switched topics. “What’s on your mind, Simon?”

He turned towards her and opened his mouth to deny that there was anything in particular on his mind, but she cut him off.

“I know there has to be some reason for you to be knocking on my door at this hour. If I know it, I’m sure a man like you is plenty aware that one in the morning ain’t exactly a proper time to come calling.”

“You’re right,” he admitted.

“So what is it?”

Simon took a deep breath. “I, uhm, I got off from my shift and I went home, but Ly- there was no one there. River’s still on Londonia and... I just didn’t feel like being alone.”

Kaylee looked a bit skeptically at him, as if she suspected that wasn’t all, it never was, but she did not push him. She moved over to the kitchenette and began rooting through the fridge.

“You want something to eat? I haven’t been to the store this week, but I do have some bacon here. Oh, and eggs. I can make you an omelette.” She turned to him and smiled. “I make one hell of an omelette.”

“That sounds great,” Simon said though he wasn’t the least bit hungry. He stared at his hands as he listened to the sounds of Kaylee working in the kitchen. He wondered how easy he was to read; whether or not Kaylee was aware of other things about him too.

“So, where was Lynne?”

Simon’s head jerked up at the sudden question. Her tone had been even, but Simon could still sense the emotion behind those words. He knew Kaylee well enough to know that she would try never to speak ill of anyone, but that didn’t mean she didn’t think badly of them. Obviously, the fact that Simon needed to travel halfway across Capital City in the middle of the night with his problems because his wife was off in parts unknown without him did not endear Lynne to Kaylee. He supposed it was fair that the feeling be mutual. Lynne certainly was not fond of Kaylee and she’d only met her once.

“She’s at a, uh, dinner party, I think. She left a note.”

“Oh, is that it,” she said in that tone that people use when they have a lot to say about what they just heard, but are too polite to say anything at all.

Simon sighed, resolving to stop his sad attempts not to talk about the major problem. It wasn’t, he thought, as if Kaylee hadn’t already guessed. “We had another fight this morning.”

Kaylee looked up from the bowl in which she was mixing eggs and various other items. “About what? Or was it the same argument you been having?”

Simon nodded miserably, and rested his head in his hands. As much as he knew he needed to talk this over with his wife -- actually try and calmly discuss these issues with his life partner -- it felt freeing to be able to just tell someone how he felt without having to argue his position. “It’s driving me crazy. I’m getting hit from all sides. At work, everyone asks about it, constantly. During my few hours at home my parents “drop by” and push it. And in any moment in between when she happens to be there Lynne nags me about it. Sometimes, I think I should just take the damn job and get it over with.”

Kaylee set the bowl down on the counter hard. “The hell you should.” She crossed the room to him and sat down on the couch. “Simon, if you don’t want to be on the Medical Elect; if you want to keep practicing and keep being a resident at Georgia Memorial then you should. You’re a grown man and you ain’t anybody’s gorram puppet, neither. Not your mother’s or your father’s or even your wife’s. Not unless you let yourself be.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said more harshly than he meant. The fact that he had been wrong about not having to argue was irritating him. “I have responsibilities to other people, Kaylee. I can’t just think about myself all the time.”

“What about ‘ever’? And you have responsibilities to live a life that you don’t want? Who do you owe that to, Simon?” she scoffed. She was angrier than he’d ever seen her. He realized then, that while he had been dealing with these problems in his life for months, so had she, through his telling her about it. And Kaylee wasn’t like River, who offered her sage eighteen year old advice like it was the only possible recourse. River, who was secure in the knowledge that every problem Simon had after she had told him what he should do resulted from him not listening. She was still sympathetic, of course, he was her brother and she loved him. But Kaylee had held her tongue, always trying not to impose her feelings or offend him. He didn’t blame her much for being tired of it. “Is your responsibility to your parents? They brought you into this world. They raised you, sure enough, but that don’t give them the right to dictate your life. So, who is it you owe this amazing debt? Lynne, maybe, seems like she’d-”

“Yes, my wife Lynne,” he interuptted. “There’s this little set of words that people sometimes say at weddings that I’m sort of bound to.”

“Simon you promised to love and honor. Far as I can tell you do that. For all the good it does you.”

His voice held quiet conviction. “You have no right to say that. You don’t know Lynne the way I do. You don’t know her at all.” His career issues were one thing, though there was some overlap, his marital problems were not something he wanted to discuss with Kaylee, ever.

Kaylee nodded slowly and stood, making her way back over to the kitchenette and to the forgotten omelette. She finished mixing the ingredients, greased a pan, and placed it on the hotplate before she spoke again.

“You’re right. I don’t know Lynne. But I know you, Simon. I know what you tell me. I know this isn’t the first time you’ve found yourself alone late at night and it won’t be the last if you keep letting her do this to you.”

“It’s not all her fault, you know. I work a lot. Constantly. I’ve left her to her own devices on more than a few occasions.”

“To save lives!” She was emphatic. He supposed because hers was among lives he had saved. “You sacrifice time with her to save people’s lives. She ignores you to go to tea parties.”

“Social involvement is a very important part of a family’s identity,” Simon said, parroting things his mother had drilled into his head. “She knows that I’m not good with those things, so she does me a great favor and takes care of it. You couldn’t understand.”

“Ok, so you have reasons that you never see each other, barely make attempts. Reasons that a di ji poufu like me wouldn’t understand.”

“I never said-”

She ignored him and continued speaking. “Fine. that’s all good and well. You don’t wanna talk about this, so let’s rewind, back to the other issue. Those reasons don’t excuse the fact that she’s tryin’ to force you to do something you don’t wanna. I may not understand some things, Simon, but I understand that you deserve better.” She nearly threw the eggs into the pan.

“Oh, so you think I should just give it up. Say ‘to hell with this’ and go about my business? I don’t know how you operate, Kaylee,” Bitterness seeped into his words. Bitterness that went back to Benny Jacobson. Bitterness to which he had no right. “but I was taught that you don’t just give up on a relationship because you have some disagreements.”

“Tamade. How ‘bout when one person refuses to respect the other’s wishes? How many times have you told her that you want to stay where you are? How many times have you explained how important your practive is to you? And how many tims has she insisted that you accept that position anyway?”

Simon stood and moved towards her, the emotion plain on his face. Kaylee was, in part, right. He knew that. But every vow he had ever taken in his life meant something to him. His marriage vows were no different. He knew that he had not been as good a husband as he could have been. The thing that worried him was that he was not sure if Lynne could be a better wife. He knew why he’d married her. There had been many reasons. He still loved her after a fashion, but that, he was coming to understand, was not enough. For the life of him, Simon did not know what to do. He wanted answers, but he had no idea how to acquire them, or if he would even appreciate them once he had them. Kaylee was looking at him, anger and concern and something else playing on her face. She was so caring.

“What do you want me to do, Kaylee?” he asked.

“That’s your problem, Simon. You’re too damn worried about what other people want from you. It’s about time you decided what you want. And how to go about getting it.”

His eyes searched her face, taking in her features. Then they made their way down the rest of her body, following the full, smooth curves. He stopped at her abdomen as his eyes found the fine white line, as long as his finger, splayed an inch from her navel. Simon knew he could only make it out because he knew where to look. He had been there, knew that place intimately. He had sewn her up himself.

His hand followed his eyes and he ran his thumb lightly along the scar. It was raised very slightly, a tiny speed bump on her soft pale skin. But it didn’t slow him down. She did not move away. Simon met her eyes and took her hand into his. She squeezed lightly but otherwise remained still. It was he who leaned towards her and brushed his lips ever so slightly against hers. He withdrew, eyes closed, and he could feel the warm puffs of her breath as they began to come more frequently. He pressed his mouth against hers harder this time, and shared those breaths as they came. He heard her sniff, and opened his eyes as she pulled away.

“The eggs are burning,” she whispered, staring into his eyes.

He hadn’t noticed. All he could smell was her.

“I should go.”

“Yeah, you should.” A single tear trailed down her cheek.

“You should turn off the eggs.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them moved.