Author's Notes:

You know the drill. Feedback at kaylee@kikiroxxorz.com is appreciated. Also, for timeline purposes, I am George Lucas. I worked backwards. This takes place immediately preceding the first part. So, I suppose, you should read them:

2, 3, 4, 5, 1 if you're new to the series.

Also, my spell-check thinks amygdala isn't a word. Stupid thing.

Warnings, etc:

Warnings from the previous La Cienega Just Smiled stories:

Read with caution. There's some topical matter, namely who's paired with whom, that might be offensive. Feedback is always appreciated (kaylee@kikiroxxorz.com). This gorram story is growing exponentially—every time I write one chapter, another one follows it in my mind. It’s six stories long now.

Any problems can be directed to my dear and fluffy muse, Ryan Adams. He sings, I write.

"Now I hold you close in the back of my mind, feels so good, but damn, it makes me hurt

I’m too scared to know how I feel about you now

La cienega just smiles and says “I’ll see you ‘round.”

Now I hold you close in the back of my mind

Raise my glass cause either way I’m dead

Neither of you really help me to sleep anymore

One breaks my body and the other breaks my soul

La cienega just smiles and waves goodbye."

~Ryan Adams, La Cienega Just Smiled

***

He doesn’t say anything about it. He is slowly earning my trust back by respecting my choice of quarters, and he has somehow mustered the intelligence necessary to realize that bringing it up right now will only make matters worse. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.

***

Dinner is even more awkward than usual, if that’s at all possible. Mal was nearly bowled over by Simon storming out of the dining area, and his empty place at the table is too glaringly obvious. After several minutes of pushing her food around on her plate, Kaylee finally excused herself, citing the engine making strange noises earlier, and leaves, River trailing after.

***

The rational part of my brain wants to say she doesn’t know what she’s doing. It’s entirely possible that she doesn’t. There are no definite studies on the effects of having your amygdala stripped on your ability to process love and carry on a relationship. But the impulsive, instinctive part of my brain knows, deep down, that River knows exactly what she is doing.

***

Simon didn’t show up for dinner, and that’s how I know for sure he seen me an’ River. “I manage to screw just ‘bout everythin’ I do up, don’t I?” I ask her, twisting a pillow in my hands. “You don’t screw things up, bao bei. You fix them. Sometimes, you fix them with screws. But you never ruin anything on purpose.” This make me smile and touch the base of her neck. She takes this an invitation to yank me up. “The others are in the common area,” she offers.