Mal-Simon, Present Exchange at Crowley's.

[badinlatin]

Mal still has a present to give out.

"Doc? You 'round, anyplace?" Mal calls out into the main rooms of the spacious flat.

Do you blame him? It's not like he's going to go knocking on Kaylee's and Simon's door.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

"Yes?"

Simon steps into the living room, one hand out to touch the doorframe.

"What's going on?"

[badinlatin]

Mal smiles, trying to not draw any more attention to the purple suspenders he's wearing than the said suspenders draw to themselves.

"Nothin's goin' on, if ya don't want your present."

[simon_doctor]

"Oh. In that case..."

Simon is politely ignoring the purple suspenders.

"I still have yours, too."

[badinlatin]

Good man.

"Here's yours. I don't do wrapping."

Mal reveals a large hardbound copy of Ivanhoe from where he had been holding it behind his back, handing it to Simon.

"Got it in Magic London wi' Tonks - open it up; see the pictures."

[simon_doctor]

Simon does so, and a slow smile spreads over his face at the moving illustrations.

"That's really nice. And this isn't memory-plastic?" He runs his fingers over the page; no, it's just paper. "That's amazing."

[badinlatin]

"'S mo shu. You'll have to ask Tonks how it works, if y'want to know. Or if Kaylee wants to know, once you show it to 'er," Mal adds.

"Didn't know if you'd ever heard of it, before. 'S a good story. Knights and kings and violence. Savin' folk. Good stuff."

[simon_doctor]

"It sounds familiar; I know I've heard the name before. Never read it, though." He smiles. "Xiexie ni."

A pause, and a hasty excuse-me, and he returns a moment later with a flat package wrapped in white tissue paper.

Inside is a small, battered copy of The Devil's Dictionary, bound in scuffed brown leather.

[badinlatin]

Mal is far less graceful than others might be in tearing the tissue paper.

As he reads the title, Mal points to it while making a face at Simon.

Trying to tell me something?

[simon_doctor]

"Ambrose Bierce. Possibly the most cynical man ever to live. Or at least the most cynical man ever to write a book. You'll like him."

[badinlatin]

Mal flips open to a random page.

"Grammar, noun - A system of pitfalls thoughtfully prepared for the feet for the self-made man, along the path by which he advances to distinction."

A smile. "True enough."

[simon_doctor]

Simon grins. "I thought you might approve."

[badinlatin]

"Xiexie."

Mal grins again, still flipping through the book, when he looks up, somewhat sterner in the face but still with an amicable tone.

"You couldn't stop 'er from gettin' me these things?"

A glance to the suspenders.

[simon_doctor]

Simon spreads his hands helplessly. "I wasn't there when she bought them."

[badinlatin]

"Don't matter none - why do you think I'm so amenable to you two gettin' hitched? You're supposed to keep her in line, dong ma?"

A grin bordering on the ridiculous sits on Mal's face. He does realize how impossible his order is.

[simon_doctor]

"..."

Simon's trying to keep a straight face.

"I see. Very well, sir. I'll get right on that."

[badinlatin]

Mal rolls his eyes.

"If you figure it out, maybe you'll teach me, alright? Gotta figure out a way to get 'Nara convinced she ain't the captain 'round here.

"...though she is more entertaining sometimes when she acts that way."

[simon_doctor]

"If I figure it out," Simon promises solemnly, "you'll be the first to know."