(Untitled)

[gonna_live]

Kaylee is singing under her breath as she sorts little parts: small nuts, slightly less small nuts, small and less small washers, bolts. The song is something about flowers. It's a nice, low-stress mid-morning, and the song would be cheerful were it not about what it is.

But it's catchy.

Comments

[simon_doctor]

He pauses, and nods.

"I'll talk to her tonight," he says. "And then ... I guess we'll talk to Mal."

[gonna_live]

"...just you?"

[simon_doctor]

"...Or both of us?"

There's a touch of hope in his voice; he wouldn't have asked, but if she's offering --

[gonna_live]

A loose shrug.

"It'd be nice if she knew I meant it, is why I ask."

[simon_doctor]

Simon considers that for a moment, and gives a small smile.

"Yes. And thank you."

Beat.

"In the meantime ... should I let you get back to work? Or -- can I help?"

[gonna_live]

Kaylee looks up at him, tilting her head. "Depends. How you feel about sortin' tiny parts?"

Pause.

"And... come get me, when you're ready to talk to her?"

[simon_doctor]

"I will."

He smiles down at her. "And I feel pretty confident about sorting tiny parts."

[gonna_live]

"Mm." She braces her feet on the deckplates and tightens her grip on his hand. "Give me a hand up, then? And I'll show you."