milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Kaylee's been in Milliways most of the day, working in the garage on her and the captain's project. She did promise. And she can try to keep her promises.

She's still exhausted. That's why it's a cup of coffee in front of her, and at the bar, her chin's in her hand.

[miniscule tag: ~~cameron "i'm a creepy damn robot" phillips~~ THE WORLD ALMANAC AND BOOK OF FACTS, Heavy Weapons Guy]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Folks was awful to the earth," Kaylee says, "and... now nobody's left on it. Includin' China."

Cameron absorbs this news without any change of expression.

"Are you from the year 2521?"

"...2522." Now Cameron gets eyed with suspicion. "Who else you know's from then?"

"Mal Reynolds," she says; she's mimicking the rise and fall of his voice as he told her, and it sounds a little off. "Spaceship captain." A beat. "He tells jokes."

Cameron does not think they are funny jokes.

"And they're bad ones," Kaylee says, relaxing a little. "Real bad."

"Yes," Cameron agrees, in the same clear, precise tones. She sounds more like she's announcing the subject of a presentation than insulting Mal's sense of humor. "Real bad."

"...he didn't tell you the dirty one about the duck and the snake, did he?"

She cocks her head again: a short, sharp gesture, like a startled cat.

"No. He didn't." After a moment's pause -- "What is it?"

"It ain't somethin' I repeat in polite company," Kaylee says firmly. "Or in public."

Her head tilts further.

"I don't understand. Ducks and snakes aren't sexually compatible."

"That's part of the punch line. Which I'm not gonna give."

"Because it isn't polite," she guesses.

"That's right," Kaylee agrees.

The World Almanac does not seem to know much about courtesy.

Sociology textbooks tend to allocate more chapters to it.

"Only nonsexual jokes are appropriate for public spaces." Today she has learned something new! "I understand."

She reaches for the capsule again, dismissing the matter of duck/snake sexual compatibility, and slips it into her pocket. The next thing she asks for is even smaller, and looks a little a computer chip.

"That's... good," Kaylee says, encouragingly. "So..."

"Where're you from?"

"Red Valley, New Mexico. 1999." After a moment's pause, she says, "My dad sells tractors," and her face and voice grow suddenly animated.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only