Author's note: Evil. Cruel. Unfair. That's all. I couldn't resist. Not with a violin. Written for the contrelamontre grocery list challenge: 4 guys, 3 red things, 2 fashion faux pas, 1 violin in close to 40 minutes. I loves my Dani for the insta-beta. Mucho kissage, sweetie.

Apples and Cherries



"Wow."

"What?" Mal walked up behind Simon, and placed his hand on the younger man's shoulder. Simon turned briefly, then looked at the violin he held in his hands.

"Nothing, I mean. Just, I haven't seen one of these in years." He paused, thinking back. "Not since...well, you know."

"Hm." Mal reached out and took the instrument gently from Simon. "Ain't seen too many of these out here on the Rim." A few deft turns, a close examination, and Mal handed the fiddle back to Simon. "You play?"

Simon took it, and lay it back in the red plush case, giving Mal a quizzical look. "No, but I'm wondering if you do."

Mal replied, "Nah, never really got good, back on Shadow. But one of my mother's farm hands could rip out a tune like you wouldn't believe."

"And you just sort of fiddled around?" Simon grinned, as Mal groaned at his pun.

"You realize that's a spaceable offense, right, Doc?"

"What? Bad puns? Why haven't you tossed Wash out, then?"

"'Cause Zoe would kick my ass, that's why." Mal led the two of them down to the main floor of the store. "How many times have you been hit on the head, exactly, Simon, since you been with us?"

The building was ramshackle, and light creaked through the windows. Wash and Jayne were arguing about a crate of apples.

"Listen, little man...," Jayne loomed menacingly over Wash and his red and purple floral shirt.

"Why's it so important to you what color apples we get, anyway, Jayne?" Mal asked as he and Simon drew closer.

"Don't like the green ones so much," Jayne muttered.

"And I'm telling you, Zoe wanted the green apples this time," Wash insisted. Simon walked over to the fruit bins, and picked out a nice red apple.

"You know, we could get a mix." The others glanced at Simon. "Well, as the ship's medic, it really doesn't matter what color the apple is. The nutrition is still the same."

"Hah!" Jayne crowed. "The fancy-vested doc's got a good plan!"

Wash rolled his eyes. "Guess this way we get to all keep the gun-totin' folks happy. Right, Mal?"

Mal looked over to Wash, and glanced at Simon. "Well, we still got River and myself to placate. What's that big fancy doctor brain of yours say to cherries?"

Simon blushed as red as the apple he was holding. "Mal!" he hissed, as Wash smirked and Jayne guffawed.

"What?" Mal's arm wrapped around Simon and turned to face the rest of the produce. "We got some cash, let's splurge a bit, gentlemen. Apples and cherries for all!"




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