milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Yes, it is a Cap'n.

Might be hard to recognize really, as he is not wearing his traditional duster and suspenders; can't deal with 'em sitting over his fun new soon-to-be pretty scars, y'see.

Slipping his way to the Bar pretty much unnoticed - he thinks - he picks up some hot tea and finds an overstuffed chair and ottoman somewhere near the observation window.

[OOM: Mal is off for the night, as mun cannot sleep through her alarm clock again tomorrow. If one is particularly interested, tag for a slowtimed convo tomorrow.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lilly returns the hug happily.

"Hey, I came to see you yesterday but you were totally passed out. You feeling better today?"

"Yeah, shiny - can't wear my jacket's kinda irritatin', but I manage." Mal readjusts himself in his chair, putting his heels up on a teeny corner of the occupied ottoman.

"Simon keeps uppin' the nerve block on my back; can't feel too much where he pulled pointy things outta me."

Because Mal has been Tragically Wounded while in the process of being a Big Damn Hero, Lilly tries very hard not to giggle or make shrapnel inna ass jokes.

She pretty much succeeds, too.

"Well that's good, right? Sounds like it's more effective then popping some Percoset, anyway."

Wouldn't this be good timin' for a joke from 'er? Hmm.

"Very effective. Simon keeps uppin' it apparently to stop me from rippin' stitches. I kinda want to anyway to see him try to scold me."

Mal is bizarre. Apologies.

"Ripping stitches, huh? That sounds unpleasant."

Straight face.

"Where exactly are these stitches, again?"

Mal snirks at Lilly, pushing at her side with one of his legs in protest.

"On my back. Pervert."

Lilly shoves back, laughing.

"Hey, I just wanted to make sure that your legendary backside was still revealable. I wouldn't want you to have to get rid of those clothes you talked about, after all."

Yes, that's Mal's 'whut?' look.

"I'd take it as a kindness to not speak out loud 'bout me bein' willin'ly nekkid."

Lilly pouts.

"Fine, I'll stop. But only because you're all wounded and stuff, so don't get used to this."

"So I have to be blown to smithereens 'fore you start talkin' about me nicely? Wow. So that must mean you got some really nice plans for my eulogy."

"I can't tell you that, it'd spoil the surprise," Lilly says, laughing. "Well, I mean, being dead'll probably be the bigger surprise but really it's not all bad. Trust me."

She looks sternly at him.

"It's not done yet, though. So you're not allowed to need it any time soon, okay?"

Mal nods in agreement, a bit more serious now. "Yes Ma'am."

Mal gets nervous with Lilly using the word surprise in reference to Mal's anything, but does not broach the subject.

It wouldn't do him any good if he did bring it up. Certain plans might be maturing in the dark in suite 132, but Lilly'll never tell. She grins at him.

"If you'd have thrown in a salute, that would have been perfect. Not quite good enough to replace Alain as my first mate, but still very nice."

"My apologies, madam," Mal returns, offering a salute with a sitting bow. "I now know where I must strive to better myself."

Yeah, uh huh.

Lilly laughs out loud.

"Yeah, well, just make sure you work on that, okay? Us rogue spaceship captains have to look the part, you ken?"

"I kennit."

The surprise of the vocabulary will occur to him later. For now, he finishes his tea and smiles at life. For now.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only