Mal was more playing with his bristle brushes than actually cleaning anything, so the excuse for movement is welcome even if he doesn't know where it will lead besides the Milliways garage. He nods and stands, covering the disassembled firearms with a spare cloth and wiping his hands on his pants.
"I assume that if I will be trying to figure out a way to get it to Sparrow's 'verse, I could get it to wherever you wanted to be." It's an easier answer than Mal had been expecting to offer.
"Just an idea. If you could think of a need to be on a ship again. In the whenever."
The thing is, she can't very well say to Mal I'm done with ships for good, I don't ever want to do this again, I want a home that stays the same.
So instead she glances away again, with an awkward half-smile, and says, "Yeah, but if you give it to him, it's his job to figure out how to get her out."
Mal's already shaking his head. "I'll always be aware of her. Don't think there's anyway of getting around that now."
The tips of Mal's fingers curl inward suddenly enough and at the right angles to make the knuckles pop and the sound is oddly satisfying - Inara would scold him any minute now for bringing on arthritis or something and Mal would laugh.
"It's just a couple things," she says over her shoulder as they go down the aft corridor. "Stuff I noticed, or stuff that needs to get replaced sooner rather'n later -- and I mean it, this time." Mal gets a dark look as she steps over the threshold. "No waitin' extra six months. Spares on hand, whether you give her to somebody or not."
Mal leans in as Kaylee reveals the inner bits of the engine to them both - names of parts circle around in Mal's head now and he knows what they are and what they do in ways he wouldn't have without this project. Don't leave. Mal exhales to focus himself on Kaylee's instruction.
Ten minutes; Kaylee regularly stops to check in and make sure that what she's explaining makes sense.
By the time she pulls the casing back, her hair's pulled loose from its ponytail, and (out of habit) she runs her forearm over her forehead to push it out of the way. "And I wrote it all down, too."
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But Kaylee's reason for delaying is slipping by and the thought pains him for a split second.
"Sure you don't want to hold on to her? If you ever needed?"
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"How would I get her out?" And why?
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"Just an idea. If you could think of a need to be on a ship again. In the whenever."
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So instead she glances away again, with an awkward half-smile, and says, "Yeah, but if you give it to him, it's his job to figure out how to get her out."
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The tips of Mal's fingers curl inward suddenly enough and at the right angles to make the knuckles pop and the sound is oddly satisfying - Inara would scold him any minute now for bringing on arthritis or something and Mal would laugh.
"Where to from here?"
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I wonder if she'll let me keep the blowtorch.
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"You goin' to wave me with that speech at random intervals, keep me on my toes?"
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Shakes her head a little, and goes to pull back the engine casing. Resigned: "Come on and take a look."
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Don't leave.
Mal exhales to focus himself on Kaylee's instruction.
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By the time she pulls the casing back, her hair's pulled loose from its ponytail, and (out of habit) she runs her forearm over her forehead to push it out of the way. "And I wrote it all down, too."
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It switches to a soft nod and a thank-you instead.
"I'll tape it to the top of my bunk," he jokes slightly.
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