Mal-Kaylee, seasonal baked goods.

[bad_in_latin]

Sallie Reynolds loves to feed people. It is rare of late that Mal lets her get away with it with him specifically, but she can normally manage a meal or five around the holidays.

This is not quite a meal that Mal's bringing back to Serenity, so much as half a dozen cookie tins, all labeled in precise characters as to contents and date of baking in

Comments

[gonna_live]

Where Kaylee's sitting, headphones in, her two books in front of her. The one about investment is open.

The music's up kind of loud; she doesn't notice when Mal comes in.

[bad_in_latin]

The cookie tins make it to the table without too much of a clatter; Mal only really spots Kaylee in the lounge after separating the peanut butter cookies from the gingerbread.

The cookies are where they should be for people to find them. He could leave.

There's a second's hesitation and Mal opens his mouth as if to say something, but he closes it again.

[gonna_live]

The clatter's enough to make her look up, though.

She closes her eyes for a moment.

I should play nice, she thinks. If only so Simon will leave me alone about it.

Out come the headphones.

"What's all that?"

[bad_in_latin]

"Cookies. Ma went a bit off a cliff with 'em all, but I think she's testing the hell out of the oven in the apartment."

Still from the other side of the room.

"Didn't mean to interrupt...whatever it is you're up to."

[gonna_live]

She closes the book on her lap and turns it over, title down, on top of the other.

"Nothin' important."

And nothing she plans to discuss with anyone before she's good and ready.

[bad_in_latin]

"...Still. Didn't mean to."

Mal shifts from looking directly at Kaylee to somewhere beyond her, behind the bulkheads painted for years. He shakes his head to snap out of it, looking back down and opening a lid for a sugar cookie for the road.

[gonna_live]

A little too loudly: "Gettin' on the downward slope on the other ship."

[bad_in_latin]

Nod. "Wo dong. 'S looking solid."

[gonna_live]

"Meanin' I think I'm gonna be able to leave on schedule."

Her hands are folded neatly in her lap.

There's no particular challenge in her tone.

[bad_in_latin]

"I wouldn't have wanted you to...throw the schedule off."

The answer sounds lame and Mal winces; he didn't say what he wanted to and it's too late to edit.

"You lookin' forward to it?"

[gonna_live]

"You really want to know the answer to that, or are you tryin' to make me put myself in a hole?"

[bad_in_latin]

Retreating almost immediately: "I'd like to talk to you without getting into an argument."

[gonna_live]

She shrugs a little, looks away.

"What do we got to talk about?"

[bad_in_latin]

After all this time, this is how it's going to break?

There's something that works at the tip of Mal's tongue along the lines of I really am trying. It doesn't quite make it.

Gesturing to the tins across the end of the table and far too quietly, "Let Ma know if you like 'em; she enjoys the feedback, she says."

[gonna_live]

"Even from the likes of me?"

[bad_in_latin]

"What's wrong with 'the likes of you'?" Mal asks immediately.