Kaylee lay in bed thinking. People didn't much consider Kaylee a thinker. Genius with machines, yes, and everyone certainly liked havin' her onboard – like a ray of sunshine out in the black – but thinkin' was never considered a pastime of hers. She did think, though. Not the deep thoughts of the universe, like some, but thoughts important enough to her. She worried for the captain, worried about whether or not he'd find them another job, and what that might mean for her and the rest of the crew. She thought about Inara, and imagined the glamour of her life; she never could quite take in all the grandeur that went into being a companion. All she saw was that Inara was sure beautiful, and she had all sorts of pretties that a simple girl like herself'd never need. She thought about lots of things, but mostly she thought about Simon. Much as she liked Simon, and much as he oftentimes seemed to like her, somethin' always went wrong. "Things didn't go smooth," as the captain woulda said. And things just weren't the same after she told the crew about River's incident at Niska's space station.
Sighing, Kaylee tossed and turned in bed. Tossed, and turned, and thought...and slowly drifted to sleep.
Waking suddenly, Kaylee looked around her room. Seemed like somethin' wasn't right. Pulling the sheet up around her naked body, she glanced around, ensuring that she was in fact where she belonged. With a clang, she heard someone descending the ladder into her bunk. Straining to see in the dark, all she could make out was a vague form approaching her bed.
"Kaylee?" a familiar voice called to her quietly in the dark.
"...Simon?" Kaylee looked at the figure approaching her, pulling the sheet tighter.