(no subject)

[gonna_live]

You ever just want to wrap up in something huge and fuzzy and drink tea and read?

Kaylee's in her fleece duster, listening to something on ye olde pink iPod, with a steaming mug of Earl Grey and some sonnets of the Shakespearean persuasion. By the fire.

Sometimes it's cold.

Comments

[badinlatin]

"Ahschoo!"

A disembodied yet familiar sneeze from somewhere behind Kaylee.

"Gorramit."

[gonna_live]

Kaylee's between songs at the moment; she pauses the music.

"...captain?" She twists around in the chair.

[badinlatin]

Mal looks up from his empty soup bowl.

"Wei, Kaylee." Another sneeze.

[gonna_live]

Kaylee looks at him.

And looks at the bar.

And gets up, iPod in one pocket, book in the other, and crosses to the bar, mug of tea in hand.

Soon there is another mug of tea in front of Mal, and a glass of orange juice, and a box of wildly patterned tissues.

[badinlatin]

A small grunt of appreciation, and Mal hangs his head over the mug of tea.

It takes him a minute to really examine the tissues.

"At least they ain't solid pink."

Attempt at humor! Followed by sneeze, making use of said tissue box.

[gonna_live]

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Kaylee sets her mug down on the table and rests her hands on the back of a chair.

[badinlatin]

"Enh. Was goin' to 'Nara's 'nd the door opened here. Thought I'd eat somethin'. Didn't wanna stay in my bunk. Uncomfy."

[gonna_live]

"Well. If I didn't already know what you're gettin' for New Year's, I'd've seen what I could've done about changin' that."

[badinlatin]

Mal narrows his eyes at Kaylee after he manages to lift his head level.

"And what pray tell is more important than a comfier bunk?"

[simon_doctor]

Simon approaches the fireplace, carrying a steaming mug of his own (this one containing unsweetened green tea) and a bowl of tiny red grapes.

He pauses, not wanting to interrupt Kaylee while she's reading.

(Also, it's fun to watch her read.)

[gonna_live]

It's more fun to join in, though.

Kaylee's music is maybe a little loud; it takes her a moment to notice he's there. She pulls out the earbuds, and pauses the music. "Hey."

[simon_doctor]

"Hi." He sits down on the chair nearest hers, and leans over to peer at the page. "Which one are you up to?"

Almost as an afterthought, he passes the bowl of grapes.

[gonna_live]

"'M skippin' around some." She takes one, and eyes it a little before eating it.

[simon_doctor]

Simon eats a few grapes too, and leans over enough to read the first sonnet on the page.

"Who will believe my verse in time to come," he reads aloud, "If it were fill'd with your most high deserts? ...I don't think I know this one."

[gonna_live]

Kaylee holds out the book. "Want to?"

[simon_doctor]

He smiles. "All right."

There's a moment of juggling book and bowl and mug, and then Simon settles into place with the bowl and the mug on the low table before them, and the book propped on the arm of his chair where they can both see it.

"Okay ... sonnet seventeen.

"Who will believe my verse in time to come,
If it were fill'd with your most high deserts?"

(He pronounces it properly this time, as though it were spelled "desserts".)

"Though yet heaven knows it is but as a tomb
Which hides your life, and shows not half your parts.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
Such heavenly touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.'"

[gonna_live]

Kaylee pulls her feet up, tucking them under her, head resting against the wing of the armchair.

The whole reason she's here tonight like this is to shut everything out. Simon reading is just as good.

What Kaylee likes the best about Shakespeare is the way it all makes more sense when you read it out loud.

[simon_doctor]

"So should my papers, yellow'd with their age,
Be scorn'd, like old men of less truth than tongue,
And your true rights be term'd a poet's rage
And stretched metre of an antique song."

Simon pauses for a tiny moment, barely perceptible, before continuing.

"But were some child of yours alive that time,
You should live twice: in it, and in my rhyme."

[flybywash]

Further away, Wash is draped over one of the couches, one arm tucked behind his head as he reads a battered copy of The Lost World.

When he spots Simon over the top of his book, he gives a small wave -- more like a finger-wiggle, really.

[simon_doctor]

Simon heads over in Wash's direction, looking curiously at the book.

[flybywash]

"Dinosaurs," he offers, by way of explanation, as he holds up the book. "Dinosaurs, and horrifically bad science. You'd go into convulsions," he adds cheerfully.

[simon_doctor]

"From the bad science, or from the dinosaurs?" Simon sits down across from Wash, and offers him the bowl of grapes.

[flybywash]

"Maybe both. It's bad science involving dinosaurs, which is fun, and very very easily forgiveable, but...still kind of worthy of convulsions. Little ones."

He tents the book on his stomach and helps himself.

[simon_doctor]

"I'll be sure to keep a supply of anoprexalin on hand, then."

Simon takes a couple of grapes too.

[flybywash]

Wash snorts a laugh. "The sacrifices I make for my entertainment."

Two more grapes disappear.

"So how're you doing?"