“So what do you think Imala, do we pass muster?” Malcolm Reynolds asks his five year old daughter. Mal is wearing his best Browncoat uniform and child is dressed in a beautiful gown fashioned similarly to those of her mother. The girl turns from the mirrors to look at Mal solemnly shaking her head.

“It looks just like the picture you showed me.”

“Momma's pony tail turns up and to the left on the end. My curl turns down to the right.”

“That's good. It shows that you're your own girl.” Mal says, nodding to encourage his young daughter's agreement.

“No Daddy. Not today. Today it has to be the same.” Imala patiently reminds him.

“But...”

“Momma told me all about the First Year of Mourning Anniversary Day. On the anniversary day the oldest daughter or another female loved one dresses as the beloved to honor the individual lost. It has to be right.”

“No one will notice. Can't it be our secret?” Mal asks.

“I'll know. Momma said that the period of mourning can't be over unless it's done right.”

A light knock on the door interrupts their discussion. “Sir?” Zoe calls.

“Come in.” Both father and daughter answer in unison.

“Everything is ready. How is it going in here?”

“Fine.” Mal says.

Imala looks at Zoe and shakes her head.

“What seems to be the problem?” Zoe asks.

“My curl isn't right.” Imala announces holding up a picture of Inara.

“Clearly.” Zoe agrees studying the picture. “Let's see what we can do about that.” Zoe takes the styling tools from Mal and prepares to go to work.

Mal leans in and whispers, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Zoe nods, puts the accouterments down on a table, and guides him closer to the entry way. “What seems to be the trouble today?” She asks.

“This isn't a good day?” He offers.

“You have been fixing Imala's hair like this every day for the last three weeks. It's been perfect every day until now.”

Mal shrugs. “I don't know.” He says. “I'm all thumbs.” He says looking at his hands, lowering his voice further he whispers, “Maybe we shouldn't do this today.” Imala whips her head around and glares at her father.

The entry way fills completely as Jayne enters Inara's old quarters. “The boys are all ready. What's the hold up?” He asks.

“Mal. The curl at the back of Imala's pony tail isn't right.” Zoe responds.

“It's okay. I've got this. I've been practicin'.” Jayne says, studying the little girl's body language, “Imala looks like she's gonna explode. You better get Mal out of here.”

“He's got this?” Mal asks.

“Yeah, we decided that since you've been makin' all these excuses how not to do this I would take command of this part of the ceremony. Just so things don't get put off again.”

“What?” Mal demands.

“Don't look at me. It was your daughter's idea.” Imala lowers her head when Mal hears this. He doesn't say a word just quietly glares at the back of the child's head briefly before he stomps out of the room Zoe on his heels.

“I hear there is a lady in distress here.” Jayne calls with a grin.

“Uncle Jayne!” Imala calls back joyfully.

“Inara! It's about time you showed up! Where's Imala?”