Part II - First Impressions

Simon tried to read, but couldn't concentrate. He kept listening for footsteps, eyes fixed on the sliding paper screen that separated his room from the hallway of the passenger dorm. Waiting for Kaylee to magically appear. It wasn't as if they had spent every night together–but there wasn't a night in the past month when he couldn't remember her stopping by at least once. And most times, those evenings stretched into the wee hours, so that when breakfast finally rolled around, both of them were bleary-eyed and slow to rouse from staying up half the night talking.

He'd told her things he'd never told anyone. Certainly not his parents. Drunken Medacad exploits, childhood fears, daydreams and wishes. Things he'd previously only shared with River. Some things he was afraid to burden his sister with–other things they had simply taken for granted, but which seemed wondrous to Kaylee.

She would listen with rapt attention as he'd shared every inch of his family estates that he could reconstruct from memory–the scent of the lilacs in the garden, his mother's vegetable patch that never seemed to yield anything but an unending supply of cucumbers and tiny green tomatoes that never ripened. She begged him for stories of seasons at the most lavish Opera House on Osiris. Libraries of actual books, with shelves that stretched fifteen stories into the air. And the whole time, it was like he was seeing everything new again–through her eyes.

He could have gone to her room. He knew that. Or the engine room, to see if she was still tinkering with whatever bits of equipment had broken down this time. But that would have meant risking running into Mal on the way, and Simon was growing increasingly fond of his knees.

It was coming up on midnight when Simon finally gave up completely, and wandered up into the mess. Wash sat at the heavy oak table, surrounded with plastic dinosaurs, and looked up when Simon entered.

"You look like someone kicked your dog," Wash s