Merry Christmas, Kristina!
Shutup shutup I know it's March.
Firefly, Kaylee/Simon.


If she was going to have to get Simon drunk in order to get sweet things out of him, this relationship was not going to be fun.
Kaylee Fry poked disconsolately at a broken flash plug. Strictly speaking, she didn’t need to fix it. Flash plugs were a credit a dozen. You could pick them up off any port, or if you were really poor you could pick a working set off any wreck.
Strictly speaking, she didn’t need Simon. There were boys in every port.
Flash plugs. Right. She wrestled a bent prong back into place and fiddled with some connections, and was rewarded with a soft buzz of life. The plug wasn’t fixed yet, but no need to go tossing it out. A little care and attention was all it took.
But not even the most stubborn of flash plugs took three gorram months to recharge. Kaylee stuck it back into the charger and went about putting her stuff away. Maybe she oughta just give up on Simon. Every time he did something sweet, he’d turn around and do something stupid again, or his crazy sister would intervene, or the Captain or Jayne would come tromping through and mess up the whole thing.
...actually, come to think of it, it seemed mainly the Captain’s fault, some of the things that’d happened. But that wasn’t fair. If someone liked her, she’d go straight out and tell ‘em so, and never mind the consequences.
Anyway. She’d made it as clear as she could that she liked Simon, hadn’t she? And he sometimes liked her and sometimes didn’t. Or maybe he always liked her and just said stupid stuff. Or maybe he didn’t like her and just said sweet things. Maybe that was what passed for polite conversation in the Core.
The charger buzzed, and she reached back without looking and grabbed the flash plug. It fizzed and sparked smartly. At least she could do one thing right.
Care, and attention, and time. Simon was a little bigger than a flash plug. ‘Bout as thick sometimes, though.
Kaylee pushed the flash plug into its proper place on the engine, then stood up, wiping the grease off her hands. Time to try a little persistence.