Pooka Madness By KMS! kmspider@aol.com http://hometown.aol.com/kmspider/myhomepage/index.html

“So… Tell me again how Simon broke his arm?”

Kaylee squirmed in front of him and Mal almost regretted taking the tone he had, but damnit, the whole thing didn’t make a lick of sense.

He tilted his head expectantly at her and she crumbled like a stone wall made with bad mortar.

“It was when we turned the gravity back on, Cap’t. We’re sorry. Really we are. Even Jayne’s sorry.”

Mal flicked his eyes to the big mercenary, surprised to discover a regretful expression on his mug. Huh.

“You can turn the gravity off just in the cargo bay?”

“Sure, Cap’t. It’s on a separate switch. Didn’t ya know that?” Kaylee asked.

Well, no, actually, he didn’t. No need to tell his way-too-smart mechanic that the ‘Captain Dummy’ act wasn’t all an act.

“O-kay,” he said slowly, rubbing at a spot on his temple that was starting to feel like an ice pick was sticking in there. “And why was the gravity off?”

“Weren’t no other way to reach the rafters, Mal.” Jayne said it as if it should be obvious to the dumbest jackass in the herd.

“Right. And why did you need to reach the rafters?”

“How else were we gonna get the eggs off the ceiling?”

Of course. Silly Captain.

Mal looked around, wondering if he had somehow been magically transported to an alternate universe where all this made sense. If he crossed his eyes, would it help? Maybe the Alliance sabotaged their air supply at the last stop. Maybe they were all breathing laughing gas.

He scratched his nose thoughtfully, then tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling of the cargo bay. Nope. No eggs there. Just to be safe, he squinted hard and peered into the darkest corners. Nope. No birds, or bird’s nest either.

He shifted his gaze to the two in front of him, stared hard into their eyes, and said one word with utter sincerity. “Eggs.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“It were River’s fault really, Mal. If she hadn’t decided they needed hatching, we would have been fine.”

He could do crazy. It would be easy. He’d just follow these two. Apparently they knew the way.

“Right,” he sighed, then restated slowly. “The eggs needed hatching, so she put them on the ceiling.”

“Well, sort of, Mal. Turns out that when we shut off the gravity, she stuck them in those big overhead lights so they could incubate.” Jayne helpfully pointed out the huge arc lights to the blind and crazy man he called Captain.

“So Simon… what? Climbed up to the rafters to get the eggs back?”

“Well, not climbed, Captain,” Kaylee supplied obligingly. “We already had the gravity shut off, so all he had to do was float up there and grab them.”

“He didn’t want them to fall when we turned the gravity back on. We’d just have to clean that up, too!” Jayne said.

“Didn’t matter, though. Turns out the lights cooked ‘em. They were hardboiled by the time he got there,” Kaylee continued. “Those lights are pretty hot.”

Of course they were. That’s why they were on the ceiling. Maybe he’d send a note to shipbuilders everywhere to remind them to but the extra hot lights on the floor next time. It seemed to be the new style—if his crew could be believed. Extra hot cooking lights on the floor. Yeah.

“Shepherd is making egg salad sandwiches for lunch,” Jayne gushed. Only Jayne gushed about food. Except strawberries, and that was Kaylee.

Mal’s chin dropped to his chest and he tiredly scrubbed a hand down his face. Looking up, he met two expectant faces, so he raised a finger. “Tell me again why the gravity was off so that my doctor could break his arm?”

“Ah, hell, Mal. That was your own damn fault!” Jayne accused.

Of course it was. It must have been his schizophrenic other self that ordered them to turn off the gravity. Mal wondered if Simon had enough supplies to dope both his crazy Captain and his crazy sister. After that he could start on the rest of the crew.

“Right. And why is that?”

Sweet Little Kaylee exchanged a worried glance with the big mercenary, eyes practically screaming, ‘get the straightjacket! Captain’s gone nuts!’ “You told us to clean the cargo bay, Cap’t. Remember?”

Okay. This he remembered. He took a deep breath, suddenly on firmer ground. His little exchange with Inara about the cleanliness of the ship, followed by a herd of cows, had prompted him to order the crew to scrub everything from top to bott…. Oh, dear.

The ice pick feeling was getting stronger. He wondered if the Doc was up to handing out aspirin yet. He could do that one-handed, right?

“And the Doc was here because…?”

“Hell, Mal, you’ve seen that infirmary. The boy knows how to clean. Make no mistake!”

Mal squinted up at the ceiling again, staring hard. It was a might cleaner up there, wasn’t it. Looking around he noticed that the walls held a sparkling sheen. Even that spot where that heifer had decided to scratch her rear against the cargo bay wall was clean. Huh.

He stared down at his boots, taking a gander at the floor. Scrubbed and polished. Except for the tiny remnants of eggshell. Mal leaned down and picked up the stray piece and turned it over. The inner curl was as creamy white as an egg should be, but the outside was purple. Mal scratched it thoughtfully, and the purple paint came away under his nail.

He looked up at Jayne and Kaylee who were still awaiting his judgment. “Um, good job. Looks right clean in here.”

Sunny smiles burst onto both their faces and Mal smiled back reflexively. “I’ll just go check on the Doc. Make sure you get all the eggshell pieces, okay?”

“Will do, Cap’t!” Kaylee said as she and Jayne went into search mode. Good. She might need a tracker for the job.

Mal left them to it and headed for the infirmary.

Simon was sitting on the bed, still-wet plaster cast encasing his left arm from elbow to wrist, while Zoe searched through the drawers. Shepherd Book stood by the door observing.

“Hear we have your sister to thank for the lunch special.”

Simon gulped nervously and nodded. “Sorry, Captain. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

Mal stretched his neck to look around the doctor, seeing River sitting scrunched up in the corner, knees folded up to her chest.

“Nobody sees the rabbit when he comes, but the evidence is everywhere, painted bright, hidden in the tall grass,” she told him seriously, then added in a very small voice, “Sorry, Simon.”

“It’s okay, mei mei,” Simon assured her, then hurried on, “It’s not her fault, Captain. I just landed wrong.”

“How far did you fall?” Zoe wondered aloud.

“Just a couple of feet, but I landed on my arm,” he shrugged and raised the cast. “Hairline fracture,” he said unhappily.

Mal nodded.

“If I may, Captain? I could venture a guess as to the eggs,” Book said.

All heads turned in the preacher’s direction. Maybe the lunatics weren’t running the asylum. Book held out a handful of eggs, brightly painted.

On the other hand, maybe it was more than Simon’s arm and the eggs that were cracked. Mal skewed a look at the preacher.

“Those look like…”

“Easter Eggs. Yes, Captain.”

Mal turned back to River. “You were hiding Easter Eggs?”

Zoe snickered, and Mal shot her a sidelong glance, his own lips twitching.

“Nobody sees the bunny. He’s invisible before the hunt. Flowers bloom and spring brings resurrection again. It says so in the symbol.”

“Oh, River,” Simon said, a fond smile grazing his lips, holding out his hand to her. “Something from our childhood, Captain. Sorry for the disruption.”

River got up and joined him on the bed, tucking her head under his chin, his good arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Got to say, it looks right shiny out there, Doc. Good job."

Simon visibly brightened, shoulders relaxing. It was apparent that he expected a lashing for the accident. “Thank you, Captain.”

Mal turned back to River, scolding her with a grin. “Next time, no Easter Egg Hunts on the ceiling, dong ma? And no more breaking your brother.”

River gave him a shy smile. “Yes, Captain.”

He’d rename the ship Lunatic Rabbits, but he hated paperwork.