"No, I love it when you prove you know what the hell you're doin' and you're not just standin' around being all decorative in a manner ain't exactly made of aesthetic."
She roots around in the toolbox, comes up with a chisel, and holds it out. "Get that gunk off those other plates so I can put 'em back proper. And get drunker."
"At least one o' those I can handle." A forceful if not-quite-sloppy-yet hand reaches out for the chisel and crosses to the opposite side of the cargo bay.
No worries though.
Mal is entirely loud enough to be heard complaining from here, even if he drops his volume some.
"One of the main reasons she's willing to do it is to help out Mike, dong ma? Which is very her, and kind and everythin'. I don't got any kind of problem with that.
"It's to let him leave. You walk out the door, there's no guarantee in the 'verse that has you coming back, and then she's Barman all by her own self, which just..." Mal shudders. "Nnngh. How can that be a good thing to even have potential for?"
Kaylee understands that Mal is very upset and well on his way to drunk, which is why she manfully restrains laughter.
And why it's gently that she says, "Yeah, but captain, you're forgettin' one thing."
Beat.
"If they can make her Barman, then she can make somebody else Barman, too. If that happens, and Mike does a runner. Which he wouldn't. But if he did. It'd be fine."
Not really succeeding in being menacing anymore, Mal points his finger at Kaylee again, chisel still in hand and beer long drained and does his ma being Barman get him a liquor discount because he'd feel a lot different about this scenario if it did --
It's five solid minutes of quiet. Mal has to concentrate far too intently on the deckplate on which he is working to be effective, but there is progress being made.
"Ma knows about the ship."
Not the one they live on. One would hope she already knows about that one.
First off, Kaylee won't let him near the blowtorch while he is working on the six-pack of beer they picked up on their way down to the garage.
Secondly --
"She just up and did it."
-- his focus lies elsewhere.
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"Last time I checked, she was a grown woman and could do whatever the hell she pleased."
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"Because you love it when I go runnin' off for some mo shu Milliways caper too."
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She roots around in the toolbox, comes up with a chisel, and holds it out. "Get that gunk off those other plates so I can put 'em back proper. And get drunker."
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No worries though.
Mal is entirely loud enough to be heard complaining from here, even if he drops his volume some.
"Would you sign up for something like that?"
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By which she means be nonverbally unhappy for a very long time and give her the sad, bewildered eyes. (She doesn't like those.)
"But you know, she wants it, and she ain't got somebody to have and to hold, so... I don't see why you're so ruttin' fussed about it."
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"It's to let him leave. You walk out the door, there's no guarantee in the 'verse that has you coming back, and then she's Barman all by her own self, which just..." Mal shudders. "Nnngh. How can that be a good thing to even have potential for?"
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And why it's gently that she says, "Yeah, but captain, you're forgettin' one thing."
Beat.
"If they can make her Barman, then she can make somebody else Barman, too. If that happens, and Mike does a runner. Which he wouldn't. But if he did. It'd be fine."
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" -- Go weld something."
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Turns on the torch.
Holds it in his direction, eyebrows raised.
"You go chisel somethin'."
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It's five solid minutes of quiet. Mal has to concentrate far too intently on the deckplate on which he is working to be effective, but there is progress being made.
"Ma knows about the ship."
Not the one they live on. One would hope she already knows about that one.
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It is possibly for this reason that she sounds a little cranky when she says, "What did you say?"
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Jayne would disapprove.
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"...okay, back up. I couldn't hear what you said first." She points the (dimmed) torch at him. "And yellin's bad."
If she had a newspaper, she'd hit him on the nose with it.
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It's louder, clearer, and starting to appear appropriately chagrined.
"She won't go around broadcasting it to folk, but our days of this staying entirely secret are numbered."
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Kaylee puts down the torch. "You're sayin' she knows about this?" And gestures around the cargo bay.
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