Simon watched as Kaylee stirred the vegetables and protein she was cooking up for dinner. In the eight and something months since she’d had Bethany, she’d been glad to be able to get close enough to the cooker to be able to actually make something. It wasn't that the others couldn’t rustle up something tasty … it was just Freya, even before being confined to bed, couldn’t do anything except stew, and Zoe’s cooking tended to consist of whatever was in the cupboard, thrown into a pan with what her mother called a dash of the Lord’s wine – keeping your fingers crossed and a lot of prayer.

As for the others, the only really good cook was Inara, and she couldn’t be rostered into the cooking chores because of her somewhat fluid schedule, although that had changed lately, with her spending less time with clients and more with Serenity’s crew. Hank wasn’t allowed anywhere near the kitchen after he nearly burned the place down, while Jayne was only good with meat, but as they didn’t get that too often he and the pilot tended to stick to the cleaning up side. And as Mal was captain ...

“You’re staring at me again,” Kaylee said, not turning around.

“How’d you know?” Simon asked, leaning on the table, his head resting on his upturned hands.

“I can feel your eyes. They’re leaving fingerprints all up my back.”

“Eyes don’t leave fingerprints,” Simon pointed out.

“Yours do.”

“But you have such a sexy back.”

”Just my back?”

“And your front. And sides. Top. And bottom.”

Kaylee giggled. “I have a sexy bottom?” She waggled her hips a bit.

“Definitely,” Simon said firmly, admiring the view most avidly.

“That why you want to marry me?”

“I think that may be one of the reasons.”

She glanced over her shoulder, the grin wide on her face. “I hope there’s more than just my bottom.”

“Maybe a few bits.”

“Like what?”

Simon sighed. “If I tell you now, what’re we going to talk about after we’re married?”

“I think we might be able to find something.”

He grinned. “You sure?” he asked, putting concern into his voice. “Seems to me that we could be having to find things to talk about for maybe fifty, sixty years. More.”

Kaylee turned around. “You think we’ll be talking all the time?” She leaned against the counter and pouted at him. “Nothing else?”

Simon stood up and moved quickly around the table, stopping only when he was pressed against her. “I thought that was all you wanted.”

She pushed back, feeling his body respond a little. “Well, maybe we can cook occasionally, clean, that kinda thing. Maybe fix the engine together.”

“Sounds interesting.” He put his hands on her waist. “And you can help me stitch Jayne once in a while.”

She grimaced. “I don’t think so.”

He grinned and reached past her, stirring the pot. “Smells good.”

She pinched him. “Excuse me, here I am, my sexy bits, as you’ve just said, in close proximity to you, and all you can say is that the food smells good?”

“Who said I was talking about the food?”

Her look went from annoyed to delighted. “I smell sexy?”

“Always,” Simon agreed. “Even when you’re covered in engine grease.”

“I washed!”

He leaned over and licked her neck, inhaling deeply and appreciatively. “I think you missed a bit.”

She threw her arms around him. “You wanna make sure there ain’t anywhere else I didn’t get to?”

“Could do.” Simon grinned.

“Where’d ya wanna start?”

“Oh, here, I think,” he said, kissing the hollow of her collarbone. “And work my way down.”

“All the way down?”

“To your most sexy bottom.” He squeezed her buttocks as he spoke, and she yelped quietly, a noise he silenced with a kiss.

“Kaylee, you got that list of parts you think you …” Mal, stepping down into the galley, stopped. “Shun sheng duh gao-wahn.”

“I gave it to Hank, Cap’n,” Kaylee said brightly, still trapped against the counter.

Mal looked at them with faint disgust. “You two start that kind of thing where I can see, ‘n’ you’re cleaning the septic tank for the next three weeks.”

“Mal,” Simon said, holding tightly onto his fiancée, “in my infirmary at the moment I have one hundred and seventy three ways of killing you, and no-one would be any the wiser.”

“Hundred and seventy three?” Mal repeated.

“Okay, I exaggerated. One hundred and seventy-two – the last is too messy. But think on this, captain, I only need one.”

Mal paused, contemplating the doctor for a moment, as if working out whether he really meant what he said. “Okay,” he finally said. “Just … don‘t let it happen again.”

Kaylee disentangled herself and crossed the galley to him. She kissed him on his cheek. “I love my captain,” she said, before returning to Simon.

“That's … no excuse,” Mal blustered a little, glaring at them before turning on his heel, heading back the way he’d come. “But you let that burn and I don’t care how many ways you know …”

They waited until they heard the sound of the hatch on Mal’s bunk slam shut. Simon turned to Kaylee and smiled. “I think you’re a bad influence on that man,” he said.

“Me?” she squeaked. “You were the one threatening him!”

“Maybe, but you know he can’t stay mad at you for long.”

Kaylee grinned. “I know my captain.” She snuggled against him again then looked into his face as a thought occurred to her. “You don’t really know a hundred and seventy three ways of killing someone, do you?” she asked.

“About that,” Simon admitted, shrugging slightly.

“That ain’t something to be proud of, you know,” Kaylee scolded him slightly.

“But I know a lot more ways of making you happy.”

“Really?” She leaned into him harder. “How many?”

“Well, you know that lifetime we were talking about …” He began to run his hands down her back.

“You just gotta hold that thought,” Kaylee said regretfully, pulling away a little. “The Cap ain’t gonna be pleased if dinner’s late.”

“He’s gone to complain about us to Freya. You think he’s going to be on time?”

Kaylee’s grin widened. “You don’t mean -”

Simon smiled, leaning down a little to kiss her gently. As he finally came up for air, he murmured, “Oh, yes, a lot more than a hundred and seventy three, and I think we'll start with dessert.”