Simon was hungry, but he was not going to admit that to himself or to the crew. For one thing, the captain and Zoe were in the kitchen, telling war stories and feeling maudlin. For another, he doubted that they would be impressed at the sight of the fancy, core-planet doctor trying to choke down food. The bars supplied most of their recommended nutrient intake, yes, but they were bland and heavy. His first taste of one had been a novel experience, something else to accustom himself to as he rejoiced cautiously about the home he and River had found on Serenity. After a day, he was bored of them. After three days, he ate them as quickly as possible to avoid the taste. After two weeks in space, his taste buds were becoming lifeless and he did not eat until the growls his stomach made became audible.

He now fully understood why the crew had attacked the dinner on his first night as though they hadn't seen a proper meal in weeks. It wasn't just the taste that was missing from the bars, it was the smells, the textures, the sounds of cutlery against plate and the feeling of being pleasantly full. He could not imagine what the soldiers and inhabitants of the rim planets felt, living on the things for weeks at a time.

River liked them. She said she could taste the spaces between the atoms, and giggled as she held a bar in her hand. When Simon smiled at her quizzically, she offered the bar to him. 'Excess thermal energy, molecules vibrate. Tickles.' He had thought that was one of her good days, until the incident with Jayne and the saucepan an hour later. Still, she seemed happier overall, now that they had a permanent – well, as permanent as anything was on Serenity – place on the ship.

The captain and Zoe were still in the kitchen when he went in search of another protein bar, but Wash and Kaylee had joined them. Playing cards were scattered across the table, and the mechanic smiled at him. 'Wanna play some poker with us, doc?'

He smiled apologetically. 'I'm afraid I only know the whisky version.'

'Pity, that,' Mal said coolly. 'Seems we're all out of that particular drink, how careless of me not to notice.' Simon tried to keep a pleasant expression on his face. The captain had said he and River might have a place on board, not that he would treat him with any sort of respect. Before he could turn to leave, though, Mal gestured at a battered tin bottle sitting on the table. 'When we're not drinking whisky, we drink this.'

'What is it?' He edged closer to look at the bottle, and failed to notice the very brief smiles that Wash and Zoe exchanged.

'Oh, don't really have a name for it,' Mal said dismissively. 'Kaylee makes it in the engine room, and gets a nice bit of shiny when we go planetside. You can try some if you want, doc.' That was the challenge, all that was missing was the glove thrown on the floor. The captain was clearly spoiling for a fight, but he refused to give the man the satisfaction. It would go worse for him, and then he would have to stitch both of them back together.

Kaylee was looking at him expectantly, though. 'Certainly.' Why did he feel a little less anonymous when she smiled at him like that? She smiled at everyone. Perhaps the lack of food was making him a little delirious. Then it occurred to him that he shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach, but the bottle had already been offered. He sipped at it cautiously, and with some effort, managed to swallow. 'That's… nice,' he said weakly.

'Some folk say it's a mite strong,' Kaylee said apologetically.

'No,' Simon managed, 'it's very nice, and, er, fiery, yes.' He was fairly sure that he had lost his stomach lining. Mal's expression was almost unreadable.

Then she was taking the bottle away and tugging at his hand, and he mutely allowed himself to be seated, concentrating on not throwing up whatever cocktail of chemicals he had just swallowed. 'Come on, doc. I'll teach you how to play.' The drink had a slightly metallic aftertaste, probably from the bottle. He might not have noticed it if he'd had it at home – on a core planet, anyway – but after two weeks of essentially tasteless food, it was an intense sensation. After the initial kick, it was quite palatable, especially on a diet of nutrient bars and water. He could learn to drink this stuff, he realised. He could even learn to like it.

So he accepted another cautious swig when the bottle came to him again, feeling the light-headedness of the early stages of inebriation settling in. He was going to regret it tomorrow morning, or whenever he next woke up, but with Kaylee cheerfully explaining the rules of the game, Wash and Zoe trying to hide their smiles, and Mal looking disgruntled, it seemed like a fair bargain.


AN: My first Firefly fic that's longer than a drabble. I like Simon and Kaylee, and they're adorable together. Reviews bring much happiness.