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[batyatoon]

I am a sheep. Or a lemming. One of those.

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[batyatoon]

"Look, I don't know --" Simon protests feebly.

"Calm down," Kaylee tells him, for what may be the fifth time, reaching over to straighten his vest unnecessarily. "It ain't like they don't know what to expect. I've written 'em about you."

He looks, if possible, even more daunted. "You have?"

"Oh ... once or twice." A pause. "...a month." Another pause, with a laugh trembling at the corners of her mouth. "...for about a year."

"...I see." Simon bites his lower lip, and looks at her warily, sidelong. "And, ah, did any of these letters involve me being...?"

"...a boob?" she finishes for him, brightly.

He buries his face in one hand. "Do you think maybe I ought to just break my own kneecaps and save your parents the trouble?"

"Don't be silly," Kaylee scolds, ruffling his hair. "They like you already. ...And anyway, there weren't so much of that kind of letters, lately."

He looks up. "No?"

Her smile's a softer thing now, the laughter melting into a quiet content. "Not hardly at all."

"Oh." His own smile comes out, tentative at first, then deepening. "...That's good."