badinlatin | Mal-Kaylee, in the engine room.

Which is why, upon entering the engine room, she very delicately slips it out of his hand, being sure to mark his place as she does so.

Kaylee looks around. There's got to be something she can use for a bookmark that isn't her finger that won't mark up the pages.

"Mmrph. I was reading that. Book thief."

Another grunt, and Mal runs his hands through his hair before smiling a hello to Kaylee.

"Liar," says Kaylee. With great affection. "You were snorin'."

Now who's the liar?

"Was not. No way 'Nara'd lemme stay with her if'n I snored."

This would be a great punishment indeed. Inara's bed is damned comfy.

"How do you know that? Ever asked her?"

"...No."

Crap.

Kaylee holds the book out to him so he can take it back.

Triumphantly.

Mal mutters something about keelhauling uppity mechanics, before straightening in the hammock, asking, "What's the news, meimei?"

"Nothin' you don't already know." There's a crate nearby the hammock; Kaylee nudges it closer with a foot and has a seat.

"That don't mean that it ain't news."

Mal knew Gabriel's intentions before they were broadwaved, after all.

"Yeah, but if we both know it, then don't seem like there's much point in askin', you know?"

Mal props up his chin onto one hand, balancing his elbow on his knee closest to Kaylee.

"What's up."

Not a question.

Which, paradoxically, means he's more likely to get an answer.

Kaylee's silent for a moment.

"I know it's the right thing to do. Him runnin'. Don't mean I have -- "

Don't mean I have to like it, she was about to say. But -- isn't that part of it, too? That...she should like it?

"I...got a couple issues with it, is all." Beat. "And the me tellin' him about 'em part didn't go so well. He asked. I didn't offer."

"I got a couple issues with it too, Kaylee," Mal starts simply. "What's yours?"

...she's not the only one who has issues with it.

Well then.

When she speaks her eyes are on the engine, but before she speaks -- Mal gets a small, quick smile that's more than a little relieved.

"Just that -- I don't know if he's got it figured out that the feds know damn well where Simon and River are. And that it's gonna be a lot harder for us, now that he's doin' this. And even if he does know -- " She cuts off. "I can't ever tell what he really thinks until I get him mad or upset, and it ain't like that's productive."

"I don't think he's ever had too much practice actually sayin' what's going on in his brain, Kaylee," Mal returns quietly, hoping she'll continue explaining what's going on in hers.

"I gathered that much." Faintly frustrated. "I just -- "

She looks at Mal, sidelong, a little wary.

"You gonna think less of me if I tell you I just want us all to be normal, with no more savin' the 'verse for a year or so at least?"

"...No.

"Ain't like I aim to work us into situations like that."

"Don't I know it." Rueful. "But -- you got to admit we ain't been doin' so good at stayin' under everybody's line of sight lately. And -- and I know it's for a good cause and all that. It's..."

Kaylee flounders for a moment, and then just shrugs helplessly.

"No way I can put it without soundin' selfish, so I guess that means it is."

The heel of Mal's right hand rubs his forehead for a long moment.

When Mal does start speaking, he's looking at the engine as well. Easier to keep the conversation light that way.

"I'd really. Really. Like to not get arrested. That," with a pause for a sardonic chuckle, "Would be a great kindness."

"I'd like not to lose my husband, personally."

"Looks like neither of us are really interested in leaving Serenity."

Mal finds himself lacking in words for the moment, so he starts picking at his cuticles.

There is still a fleck or two of bright purple nail polish there, not that Kaylee would really notice.

"Don't mean I want to go down with the ship, either." She's leaning back on her hands, now. "Matter of fact, the whole goin' down thing -- not so much with wantin' to do that."

Beat.

"He ain't stupid. He knows they're gonna start lookin'. So -- does he just not care? Is he gonna just throw us all out there so he can use us for a gorram example or somethin'?"

This isn't the Ancient Sea, Mal - you don't have to go down with the ship.

She ain't goin' down; she ain't goin' nowhere.

"We're not gonna let 'im use us that way, even if that's what he's aimin' for. We keep doin' what we do; and he can gén hóuzi bĭ diūshĭ if he tries to change that when we don't want 'im to."

I will go down with this ship
I won't put my hands up and surrender

"Shi a," says Kaylee, quietly.

"He's changin' it for us. We don't get a say. Is the thing. It's too late."

"And I'm scared."

There are worry lines that Kaylee are probably familiar with at this point that reside from time to time across Mal's brow, just above and between his eyebrows. Kaylee's probably more familiar with them than most, because Kaylee hurting tends to bring them out.

"I can't control what he's gonna do. I can only work over the ship and the crew." I'm scared too "I don't know what to tell you outside o' that."

"That you'll keep us safe."

She looks at him; her smile is small, and shaky. "But you don't got to say that. 'Cause you do."

Mal's reflexes are quick enough that he forces the startled expression at Kaylee's statement off his face before it makes a lasting impression, choosing instead a smile that's all soft around the edges, just as he does most times he's trying to reassure her and he doesn't know if he's succeeding.

"Glad I don't got to repeat what's already known," Mal chooses to say instead, working hard to keep the nagging maybe not this time in the back of his head thoroughly suppressed.

Her smile firms up; her eyes go to her boots for a moment.

Then back to him.

"What's your thoughts on all this?"

"My thoughts? Not sure I can really explain 'em. He's not backing off o' this, which I can understand. Sort o' appreciate. All I'm lacking now is some fantastic ability to look down the road a spell and see exactly how much They are gonna come after Simon and River. And us, for all o' our parts in Miranda. I didn't do it - we didn't do it - to be on camera. But that's what's gonna happen."

A near-exasperated sigh. "I just wanna keep to my thievin'. And I don't know what it's goin' to take to both keep my day job and get through this."

Kaylee's silent for a moment.

"I hate it when there's not answers."

"Think we should start a club for it? The "Questions Should Immediately Come With Answers" Club?"

"Too lazy to make the badges."

Her head falls against his shoulder; her eyes close.

"I'll get Wash to make them."

A hand comes up idly to rest on Kaylee's shoulder, then temple - holding Kaylee to him, one could interpret.

Interpreting every action someone does is for people who think too much, and don't act at all.

"You do that they're gonna be covered in dinosaurs."

Eyes still closed.

And smiling, now.

"That's fine."

Pause. There's a small amount of amusement in his voice with, "You want your hammock back? You're about to take a nap on a very uncomfy shoulder, seems like."

"Seems like the solution for an uncomfy shoulder," says Kaylee, "is for you to get fat."

Cheerfully.

"And here I was, believing a lack of blubber was an asset."

A stifled chuckle.

"Well, it is sometimes." Very, very wisely. "Just not when we're talkin' bony shoulders and whatnot."

"Well I'm afraid that any blubber that I acquire tends to just congregate in places other'n my shoulders."

...

"We need a new topic of conversation."

Kaylee sits up.

And pokes him in the side, gently.

And beams.

"Could just leave you to your snorin'."

"I. Do Not. Snore."

Much.

"Then I guess," says Kaylee, grandly, "I'll leave you to your book instead."

"Why xiexie, miss."

Mal makes a rather big show of swinging his legs back up comfortably into the hammock, opening his book back to the page he left off on --

-- placing the book squarely across his face and snoring in too grandiose a manner to be real, by a long shot.

If Kaylee hangs around enough, she could hear the drop in noise to a faint exhalation every few seconds, and the book slips down his nose, resting against his chin. It will probably fall off the hammock for real this time.

She might've stopped back in, just to check.

Mal will find the book on the crate when he wakes up, with a bit of pink ribbon marking his place.

Mal-Kaylee, in the engine room.

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