Simon had very little to keep him busy that day, but he felt an uncomfortable need to keep himself busy none the less. He kept to the Compound for the most part, doing (as well as making up) work in the clinic. But even Simon, who had an unnatural ability not to pick up on the obvious, could tell when he was not needed, especially in a clinic. So he headed back to Serenity far earlier than he had intended, but not all that early by any means.
He walked through the ship, from cargo bay to kitchen, thinking that he might make himself some tea when he saw the Captain. His footsteps on the metal gratings sounded painfully loud in the silence of the room, and a desire to make the noise stop more than anything made him hesitate.
"I--" he started, but there was not anything to say, without making himself look like a chŭnrén. Something was off, that much he could tell, and he wished desperately that River would simply appear and give him some sign as to what he should do. But she did not, so Simon took a breath and cautiously asked, "
( ... )
Though Mal heard the familiar sound o' someone's footfalls on top o' the metal gratin', he didn't bother t' look up from the glass o' hooch he'd taken t' nursin'. He'd drained a couple o' glasses 'lready n' wasn't likely t' stop anytime soon. Once he had his mind set, 'twas hard t' break him o' it.
Simon's question didn't elicit much reaction other'n Mal's mouth settlin' int' a thin line. Glowerin' down at the clear liquid in his cup, he said, "Inara's gone." What else could there be t' say 'bout that?
"Zāogāo," Simon swore under his breath, not as sharply as he would have liked. Disbelief made his voice soft. She was not the first member of the crew to disappear since Simon had arrived on this thrice-cursed planet, but Jayne's disappearance gave Simon a modicum of relief. Inara's could give none.
"Are you sure?" he asked. It was a stupid question, but it had to be asked. One could not make mistakes in matters such as these. And Simon did not want Mal to be right this time.
Mal'd been liftin' the glass t' his lips, needin' t' feel the warmth o' the alcohol tumble down his throat n' into' his stomach, when Simon asked his gorram ridiculous question. With a thud, the glass was set back on the table n' Mal cocked his head, lookin' over at the doc with narrowed eyes. "Sure as sure can be," he said plain-like.
Comments 14
He walked through the ship, from cargo bay to kitchen, thinking that he might make himself some tea when he saw the Captain. His footsteps on the metal gratings sounded painfully loud in the silence of the room, and a desire to make the noise stop more than anything made him hesitate.
"I--" he started, but there was not anything to say, without making himself look like a chŭnrén. Something was off, that much he could tell, and he wished desperately that River would simply appear and give him some sign as to what he should do. But she did not, so Simon took a breath and cautiously asked, " ( ... )
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Simon's question didn't elicit much reaction other'n Mal's mouth settlin' int' a thin line. Glowerin' down at the clear liquid in his cup, he said, "Inara's gone." What else could there be t' say 'bout that?
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"Are you sure?" he asked. It was a stupid question, but it had to be asked. One could not make mistakes in matters such as these. And Simon did not want Mal to be right this time.
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