Tears. Tears feel onto his face from high above. His vision was a mite blurry around the edges, but he knew that it was Kaylee. He had made her cry. DAMN! He hated it when she was hurt, and even more so when he was the one who had hurt her!

She read something from a piece of paper, read it aloud to the crew. He couldn't hear her, but he knew the words by heart already. It was a crying shame that he couldn't hear her voice anymore. Voice like some bell, she had. More tears fell on his face, mixing with the blood that came from his mouth. He knew that he had been shot, felt the holes where the little pieces of oblivion hadentered. They was a mite colder than the rest of him. Probably 'cause of the air rushing through them.

More tears. He wanted to wipe them away, but couldn't find the strength, his hand only moved a bit to the left.

He had hurt her many times before this. Hewished that he could just go back and fix it all, make the tears go away. But he was tired. So, very tired. If he just closed his eyes for a minute...

***

The Canton bench was warm against his back, and he felt Kaylee's weight and warmth on top of him. She was like some angel, all warm and peaceful and innocent. She didn't snore. She gently whistled when she slept, making one of the most beautiful noises he had ever heard.

Then, he heard Mal come in. Ol' Cap'n Tightpants hisownself. Simon closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Mal came over and stood over them, all stoic and silent. He waited there for a good five minutes, while Simon savored having this beauty on top of him. Finally, Mal went and "Harrumph"-ed at them. Kaylee opened her eyes sleepily, finding herself looking into Simon's swai smile. She mumbled something to him then closed her eyes again. Such a deep hazel, so pretty and deep. He loved them.

Mal leaned over them, and put his head near Simon's. "Ya mind tellin' me what transpired here, doc?"

Simon rolled his eyes at the older (and armed) man. "I really