Aug 05, 2008 22:42
It's late.
Simon's heading into the kitchen, to rinse out a mug; it's not his turn to do dishes tonight, but since he left this one in his room this morning, he's decided it wouldn't be fair to leave it for someone else.
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There are days where he is gracious enough to relieve someone else of their duties.
Yes.
Right now he's picking out under his thumbnail with a chopstick.
Don't worry, he'll wash it before putting it in the strainer.
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Simon pauses in the doorway, mug in hand, and then continues into the room a touch slower.
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"Give it here," Mal calls, holding out a hand palm upward for the mug Simon carried into the kitchen.
"Least you bring yours back; Wash always ends up collecting 'em."
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"Thank you for that, again. Especially on such short notice. I ... it's very much appreciated."
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Not that Simon didn't already know that.
Or that Simon leaves him more or less alone on August 1st.
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Simon drops his gaze after a moment.
"I was going to make tea," he says. "Did you want any?"
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He did indeed wash that chopstick before placing it with the other dishes; they can get towel-dried later.
Later, after Mal's positively polluted any semblance of tea in his own mug: "I debated asking what you both would do."
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"With today, you mean."
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Of course, he didn't. And hasn't.
Except for how he just did.
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Which may mean he's not about to answer the unasked question, but is also sincerely meant.
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"Not really."
A beat. "Is that surprising?"
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"No."
Thank God.
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"I think we're okay," he says to his tea, very quietly.
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