Simon lay in his bunk, head propped up on his arm. He sighed in deep contentment.

Kaylee lay curled onto her side facing him. Her long brown hair spilled over the pillow. She slept deeply, the skin of her neck and chest and cheeks still flushed from their recent love making. He traced a finger gently on her cheek, but she did not stir.

He stared at her in awe and wonderment as he caressed her face softly. How had he gotten so lucky? In the wilderness of space and crime, how had he been so blessed to find someone like her? Kaylee had always been so kind, and forgiving, and caring. Now since they'd finally come together in the few months since Miranda, he could add bold and passionate and loving. So loving. She didn't care that he was a fugitive on the run. She didn't care about the things he used to have that he could not give her, though he wanted to. She just wanted him, as he was. He could just be Simon.

And that was so freeing. Being able to be with her, in all ways, was so freeing. He was so delirious with happiness he could hardly believe it. He was so much in love with her. Had been for quite some time. It felt so, so good to finally accept and embrace those feelings. He'd resisted for so long, they had almost lost the chance. Thankfully, they'd recovered from their injuries. He wasn't a religious man, but he thanked something in the Universe every single day for Kaylee.

He lay down next to her, his face next to hers, watching her eyelids flicker. A dream. Hopefully a good dream. Simon pulled her close, loving the way her warm skin felt against his.

When had it started? When he started to like her? Started to care? His mind drifted back to the early days on Serenity. A memory he hated. The day she got shot. But even then, she'd been kind and caring. She'd given him a little sliver of hope, just a tiny one, that maybe there could be something good on Serenity, in a life he was thrown into. A life that he would never have chosen at the time, but now would never, ever give up.

Fourteen months earlier

Simon worked in the infirmary, sorting, organizing. Checking the stock of things. Writing notes on River's condition, or what he could observe in her reactions, her behavior. He had no idea what had been done to her, or what he was going to do about figuring it out. Where they would go, how they would survive. It was one day, one minute, one second at a time for the two of them.

Maybe, as the captain had suggested a couple weeks ago, the safest place was in space. On the ship, as it traveled from planet or moon to another planet or moon he'd never imagined seeing. Never staying anywhere for very long. He knew it was a risk, staying here, a risk to the crew. They could all be tossed in Alliance cells, never to see the light of day again, if the feds ever found out where he and River were.

He sighed deeply, not sure of anything anymore. Sometimes he thought he should be giving himself soothers, for sleeping, in addition to giving then to River. He hadn't had a good night's sleep without drugs in a long, long time.

"Doctor?" A tentative knock and a quiet yet familiar voice made him look up.

Kaylee stood in the doorway, giving him a small smile. "You said I should come by today, you wanted to check how my wound was healin'." He watched as her smile faltered a little. "Is now a good time?"

"Uh yes, I did. Now is just fine. Come in, Kaylee." She walked slowly in, and he helped her up on the examination table. "Have you been in any pain?" he asked as she lay back and allowed him to gently pull up her top to expose the healing wound in her belly. He felt her jerk slightly as he gently touched her there.

"No. Just some tightness, is all. I've been careful not to too much bendin' or puttin' pressure on that area, like you said. Makes it hard to do all my work, but the Captain and Jayne are helpin' me out for a spell."

He smiled a little as he probed further, thinking of the burly mercenary, whose crude manner his very first day had embarrassed Kaylee at dinner. "And how is that working out? Them helping you?"

She grinned a little and shook her head. "The Capn, he's okay. Jayne is hopeless. Good at liftin' heavy stuff, though. Can't wait to get back to normal." She sighed and closed her eyes. "My girl needs me. She needs a woman's touch."

He examined the wound carefully, focused only on it. Every time he had looked at this injury, he remembered the day it happened. And his shame at his own actions. To say he would have let her die was an act of wild desperation. It went completely against every oath he'd ever sworn to be a doctor. First, hurt no one. And he had. Kaylee had told him before, more than once, that it wasn't anyone's fault. But he knew it was. He knew it was his fault that this girl, who had not done anything but kindly welcome him to the ship, had been injured, and could have died. She would have a scar forever, and he was the reason for it.

He didn't see that her eyes were open now, watching him, or the look of sadness in them. "It looks like it's healing like it should. And I think you can do some more of your normal activities now. More movement. No squatting for long. Just come see me if anything feels strained or painful." Simon looked at Kaylee and gave her a small smile. He pulled her shirt down, and helped her sit up.

"Doctor." He felt her hand squeeze his arm.

"Please. You should really just call me Simon."

"Simon. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

He looked at her in confusion. "I don't understand. What do you possibly have to be sorry for?" he asked gently. "I'm the one who put you in harm's way."

"No, no, it's not your fault." He felt his stomach twist as he watched tears swim in her big green eyes. "Inara told me about what happened to River, what you did. I think about it sometimes, at night. Think about if it was me, my sister or brother was far away and bein' hurt. What would I do? It must a been so hard for you, not knowin' about River, your parents not supportin' you. And now," she said, the tears trickling down her cheeks, "River's out of that place but she's still sufferin'. And so must you, watchin' her troubles. Seein' someone you know, and don't know, all in the same person. It just makes me feel real sad sometimes." She looked away from him, down at her lap. "I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable, me sayin' all this," she mumbled, wiping her face with her hands. "I don't mean to make you feel bad."

Simon just stared at her. He was stunned by her reaction. He had not cried over any of this, not ever. Just shut the feelings of fear, despair, and abandonment down, pushed them down as deep as he could. Because he couldn't function any other way. And now here was someone who felt for him, for River, for all they'd been through so far. Did his parents, his friends, his colleagues at the hospital – people who'd known him for a long time, knew River - cry for his loss? No. Likely there was gossip about the doctor-cum-fugitive who'd gone mad and thrown away a great career. On a ship in the middle of space, a place he'd never thought he'd be, a kind hearted mechanic with grease on her overalls was very likely the only person in the entire universe with enough heart to feel for him and River. Kaylee is very dear, Inara had said. Yes. Simon could start to see now why the crew felt that way about her.

He felt wretched. A part of him wanted to hug Kaylee and cry along with her. Instead, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "Here," he said gently, handing her the material. She took it from him, not looking at him, and continued to dry her eyes. "I don't – what you said." He stumbled over his tongue, trying to find some words to comfort her. "It doesn't make me feel bad, Kaylee. It's – well, it's ironic in a way. You barely know us, I got you in trouble, and yet you – you care enough to feel sad and cry about us." Simon swallowed the knot developing in his throat. "Thank you for that," he said, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing it. "Thank you."

She nodded, looking at him finally. It struck him then that she had beautiful eyes. Even wet and sad and a little red, they sparkled with life. "Thanks for the loan of the hanky," she said, a shy smile flickering. "Capn and Jayne don't like it when I cry, but sometimes I just can't help it." He saw her cheeks flame with embarrassment as she got up from the table. "Sorry. I'd better get back to my work."

"And I to mine," Simon said, sighing out a breath. Emotional expression was hard for him, and there'd been so much in this room in the past few minutes. It was starting to feel overwhelming. But he didn't want her to leave feeling like her tears were a burden to him. Because they weren't. They were a bit of balm to his hurting spirit. "Kaylee. You don't have anything to be sorry for. Certainly not your tears."

His heart flipped a little as she smiled at him, the kind of smile he'd seen when she first talked to him about passage on Serenity. "Thanks, Doc." And then she was gone.

Simon puttered around the infirmary, his mind only partially focused on what he was doing. Part of it was on Kaylee. She was not like anyone he'd ever known. She played no games, had no pretenses. Said what she meant, what she felt. It was strange to him. But he liked it, at least a little. Well, he thought he did. As much as he thought he knew anything anymore.

On an old ship in the black, going God knows where in the universe, pursued by the Alliance, with a sick sister he knew and didn't know and a crew that wasn't sure what to do with or think about either of them, maybe, just maybe, he could have a friend. A friend unlike any other he'd ever had before. Maybe. Just maybe.