Mal couldn’t tell if his left ear hurt from remembered surgery, or if that drum was still ringing from the shockwaves induced by Kaylee’s slurpy smooch. Which, he considered, seemed to feature a more than respectable tongue exploration of the ear canal. He was aiming to fire back a snappy put-down in response to her kiss, and to her “I love my captain”, but she’d had her predictable effect on his own tongue, that now seemed bolted to his palate in a manner almost enabling him to cease his mouth from forming a cheery smirk. “As do we all”, opined Wash, reaching into an oven to fetch a container holding something that might have resembled stewed cabbage. “Though, of course, in a comradely, soldierly fashion.” Snapping off the food tray’s lid, Wash couldn’t help but add, “Can I kiss your other ear?” “Only if you wanna die before your chance at that fine repast.” “Nibble on the lobe a bit?” “Anybody seen my gun? I need a gun. Knives leave too big a mess, and I fear our soon-to-be-late pilot might get funny ideas about me while being throttled with these hands.” Wash mocked crestfallen. “I get the idea that a peck on the cheek is out of the question,” just as Zoe strode into the kitchen with River. “Whoa! now here comes the peckable of all cheeks!” Mal summoned his captainy glare. “Zoe, kill Wash. That’s an order.” “Sir!” Zoe angled toward her husband, her bearing that of the confident warrior about to dispose of a nagging foe with routine ease. Wash straightened in his chair and held up his arms, palms out. “Whoa! Whoa-squared... to the nth power. Wh-what’s with all this tension all of a sudden?”

Zoe didn’t break her stride. “A little dyin’ can ease a lot of tension,” she crooned while nipping past Wash’s guard to grab a firm hold of his throat. “Kill him just a bit, cap’n, or complete lights out?” “Well now...” began Mal. “Little death,” interrupted River, settling into a lotus position on her chair. “Literal translation from the French, for orgasm.” Wash was making strangulation noises. He might have been trying to suggest his opinions on orgasm versus death, as cures for tension. Then again, he might just have been trying to breathe. Happily for him, Zoe relaxed her grip. “Sir, I’m not one to be disobeying a direct order, but I wouldn’t mind exploring the alternative therapy,” she said. “Y’know, render him speechless via physical activity of a carnal nature.” “Yeah, alright, leave us, whatcha have for dinner is your affair,” muttered the captain, in between Kaylee’s giggles. “Seein’ as how my authority’s slippin’ away anyway: order countermanded. But only cuz we ain’t got anyone else can find this gorram moon, never mind get us landed on it in one piece.” As Zoe hauled her man from the table with an affected lack of tenderness, Mal sat down beside River. “Y’know,” he said, reaching across the girl to grab a bagel, “Just between you, me, and this here slice of bread, and I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but... I can’t wait ‘til we land.” River pointed her bread knife at him in a manner that immediately set Mal’s defensive instincts to full alert. “Your perceived authority is mitigated by your ear,’ she said. “It’s all wet.”