A/N - It's slash. Don't read if you don't like.

The grass was a soft blanket under Simon's head. His eyes were closed, his body utterly relaxed. A small smile tugged at the corners of his pale lips. A smile of peace and happiness, the kind of smile that rarely visited his lovely face. He had been here for hours now, just lying on the emerald grass, relishing it, basking in the vast open space, the cool, spring wind, the velvety black sky. Stars were beginning to be lit – one by one. He did not need to see each yellow light come to life - he could feel them. His hair was damp from the dew, as was his white shirt, but he did not care. For once, the young doctor was totally and completely at peace. He heard footsteps, but did not open his eyes. A few moments later, a hand was lowered onto his shoulder. A gentle hand, calloused from hard labour and weapons. 'You've been here for so long,' Mal's quiet voice caressed Simon's ears like silk. The Captain lowered himself to sit next to Simon. 'It's so quiet...' Simon breathed. 'Just feel it. Can you feel the silence?' 'You're an awful romantic, Doc. Your clothes are wet and ants are crawling up your hand.' 'Mal!' Simon sat up, smiling. 'What?' 'You just have to go and ruin it all, don't you? I was enjoying peace, for once. It isn't like there's loads of it to be found on 'Serenity.'' 'True... Ain't a person for peace and quiet, me. I like my adventure, ruckus and chaos.' 'That explains a lot,' Simon said, quietly. He leant forwards, burying his face in the Captain's black shirt. Mal's hands went around the younger man's slender waist, almost reverently. He sighed, inhaling the sweet scent of herbs and mint and apple shampoo. No matter how much Mal loved Simon, he could not help but feel old when he was with the Doctor. Simon was full of youth and, despite all he'd been through, light and joy - and he was incredibly, unbelievably beautiful. Mal could not understand what Simon, a creature of such infinite grace, saw in a not-so-attractive, grumpy, ageing man whose hopes and dreams had been shattered by the cruel life. Mal smiled, sadness lacing that smile. Simon raised his lovely, pale face, dark eyes huge in the semi-darkness. 'You're sad,' he whispered, and it was not a question. It was a simple statement – he could always tell what mood Mal was in. 'Anything wrong?' 'No, Simon,' Mal grinned. 'It's just that... Why?' 'What?' 'Why me?' Simon understood. He looked down, long lashes throwing shadows on his ivory cheeks. 'Mal, you're the one man I've always admired. You're wise, and selfless, and protective, and you love your crew as though they – we – are your family. You are the one person I can ever depend on, whom I can trust with my, and River's, life. The one man who ever offered me protection, despite all the danger that came with me. The day you agreed to let us stay, you proved how good you were. How giving.' Mal lifted a hand, pushing a strand of dark hair behind Simon's ear. 'I ain't all that, Simon. I'm just a broken man trying to do what's right. Please don't try to make me high and saintly. I ain't that. Hell, I've done things I'm well ashamed off; helped terrible people, stolen, and lied and killed, and I prefer you do not know it all.' Simon shook his head. 'You'll always be my beautiful angel, Mal. A mystery, an intriguing, dark puzzle of sorts. No matter what you've done.' There was a moment of easy silence, in which Simon wrapped his hands around Mal's neck, and pulled the older man closer. A second later, their lips met in a tender, soft kiss; little more that a brush of lips. No passion was needed this night, no hunger or heat. They'd had all of that, and will have even more. They broke apart, all sadness forgotten, the kiss having dissolved it like an acid. Simon turned around, so that he was sitting between Mal's legs, using his torso to lean against, with the Captain's arms wrapped protectively around him. He felt, for once, safe. Totally, completely safe, as though he was behind a kilometre-high stone wall. He looked up at the now almost entirely black sky. Sitting here, he felt so small when he thought of the immensity of the universe; a tiny little ant in a never-ending universe. Somehow, he felt he didn't mind. Simply because now he belonged. Here, under the stars, in the arms of the one person he truly loved, with the gentle whir of 'Serenity's engines in the background. Mal kissed Simon's hair. 'They're waiting,' he said. 'I know,' Simon replied. He knew he'd always be on the move. Just as he knew that the one thing he'll always have is Mal. And the starry sky.