Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns it, I just take it out for a night on the town every so often.

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It felt as though they were suspended in their own reality matrix. Simon kissed, touched, caressed, licked, nibbled every piece of flesh he could get his hands on. When he was with Kaylee, nothing else mattered. Propriety was long since forgotten; decorum had no place in their bed. When Simon was with Kaylee, the only thing he thought of was her and how to bring her to her fall.

He knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, how to stroke. He knew which caresses brought the most pleasurable sensations. It was a challenge the first time to find all of Kaylee's special spots, but now it was a fine art to elicit from those spots the sensations that could bring her to the edge.

As he moved in her, filling her, becoming a part of her, Simon kept her from losing herself in the moment with a few gentle kisses. He brushed her neck, her collar, her shoulder with his lips, barely a flutter. Simon sucked at the hollow of her throat, expertly making use of tongue and teeth to make her shudder, tremble as he worked himself in her.

With Kaylee, it was always making love. It wasn’t sex, it wasn't fucking, although Jayne might be tempted to use that term. No, it was always love, because that was the most overwhelming sensation he felt when he coupled with her. There was nothing more, nothing less. Just love and the physical sensations that accompanied it.

Their rhythm, the rhythm Simon was setting, became more frantic, more heated as they were both brought to the edge. As a climax shook his body, Simon felt like he was falling, like he would never feel solid ground again. And then, as quickly as it came on, the feeling ceased and he collapsed, spent, beside her on the bed. His eyes fluttered open slowly and he looked at her.

Her eyes were glazed with a sheen of spent lust, with contentment and relaxation. Simon moved his body off of her but drew her closer, pressing her body intimately against his, wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her close. He nuzzled her neck gently, affectionately, kissing softly here and there. It always seemed to go by so quickly when they were together. It was as though time had it in for them. When they were trapped in the heat of the moment, time seemed to go by in an instant. But now, laying spent together, time slowed down once more and they could hold each other, just be, for as long as they pleased.

Simon gently stroked Kaylee's hip as she shifted onto her back. His head came to rest on her chest lightly. He met her smile with one of his own and watched her as her eyes fluttered closed and she slipped into the welcome darkness of sleep. She was so beautiful, so perfect; like an angel.

Simon turned his head once more, resting it again on her chest, allowing his own eyes to flutter closed. As he lay there, he could hear Kaylee's gentle heart beat, he could feel it against his cheek. It brought a smile to his lips. That was it, it was the perfect rhythm, it matched their tempo, matched his heart beat pulse for pulse. It was their rhythm of love, it coached them through every movement, every sensation, every feeling. It dictated the moment, it dictated time. It was the feeling of sound.

Simon lay there awake for a long while after Kaylee had drifted off. Even though they were no longer intertwined, no longer touching at their cores, Simon still moved with her, Simon still felt the same things for her but on a more relaxed level. His eyes were closed and yet just by feeling her, by moving with the steady rise and fall of her chest, Simon could paint the perfect picture of her.

Consumed by her, by the feel of her skin against his, the warmth of her body, the beat of her heart, Simon slowly allowed himself to be carried off, to cease all feeling for the time being. In sleep he could recover, be renewed, rejuvenated. In sleep, he and Kaylee would have the same rhythm once more, the same slow, relaxed tempo. It was an incredibly unifying thought.

Even in sleep, Simon could hear and feel her rhythm, their rhythm, the beat of Kaylee’s heart. The sound was so beautiful, so melodious and mellifluous that it reassured him that he could let no more insult or injury come to Kaylee. He loved her too much to ever be able to feel the guilt of responsibility for breaking her heart, for changing her rhythm, their rhythm. Simon had taken an oath to do no harm, and this was no different. It applied as much to this love as it did to his trade. He couldn’t fool with perfection.

No, the rhythm would go on, would continue to play as long as the song of their lives went on. Not time, not separation, not even heartbreak could end their rhythm. Time could slow it, separation could strain it, heartbreak could alter it, but only death could dictate the final note in the grand musical number that was their rhythm of love...