Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon. I only play with them because I love them.

THE WEDJAT EYE: PT 4

On the way back in his bunk Mal reflected on his spectacular lack of success in trying to brush up on old skills and acquire new ones. He blamed his crew. They still acknowledged his authority, they didn't always take him seriously. They knew him too well, saw his strengths and weaknesses. Leant on the former and smiled at the latter.

Book was walking towards him, heading to the commons room. “Hear you've been very busy, Captain,” he said conversationally, with maybe a hint of mirth twitching the corners of his mouth. “Trying to be some kind of superman.”

“Well, somebody's gotta take up the slack,” Mal said bitterly. “Not all of us got your faith in the Lord.”

“No,” Book agreed. “But maybe it's time for a little faith in the people around you. You can't take it all on your shoulders, son. They're good people, strong people. Responsibility won't break them. And if they fall, it won't be your fault. I know you'll do all you can to help them back up. Why not let them help you too?”

*********************

Mal was shaving when Zoe knocked at his door. “Come in,” he said, annoyed at the interruption but aware that Zoe wouldn't disturb him unless it was absolutely necessary.

“What now?” he demanded as she stood in front of him, a mite less serene-looking than usual.

“I'm here on behalf of the crew, sir,” she began awkwardly. Being their spokesman wasn't really a role she had ever envisaged for herself. But, truth be told, she was here as much for Mal's sake as for theirs.

A black scowl told her exactly what he thought of her efforts. “So, they've formed a union, have they?” he sneered. “What they want? More coin? More leave? Fancy soap? I ain't got time for this fei hua, Zoe.”

“No, sir,” she said evenly. “They're worried about you.” A pause. “I'm worried about you.”

Mal wiped the foam from his face with a towel. “An' why would that be?”

She gave him the barest suggestion of a smile. “Cos you're acting crazy, sir.”

He folded his arms defiantly across his chest but said nothing.

“You've got a good team, sir. Don't want to go losing any of them by treading on their toes too often. Besides,” her voice softened “You look like you haven't slept in weeks.”

“That all?” The question didn't come out as rough as he'd intended.

“Yes, sir. Thankyou, sir.” And she climbed back up the ladder.

*******************

Kaylee was the last in for supper that night. She took a seat between the Captain and Shepherd Book as they waited for Jayne and Wash to bring the food to the table. The preacher gave her a gentle smile as she sat down, but Mal didn't even look up from the perspex panels of an electronic map he was trying to piece together. So, he was still pissed at her. It hurt that he didn't seem to want to talk to her any more.

She bit her lip and turned to the Shepherd who was leafing through an old leather-bound book. The pages were open at an illustration of a man holding all kinds of ancient musical instruments.

“What's he doing, Shepherd?” she asked. “Is he some kind of porter?”

Book smiled again. “No, Kaylee. He's a one man band. Back on Earth-that-was there were musicians who could play lots of different instruments at the same time.”

Kaylee looked at the picture more closely. “He looks kinda funny,” she remarked.

“Well, they weren't exactly serious musicians. More a comedy turn.”

“You talkin' about me, preacher?” Jayne demanded as he put a platter of food down onto the table. His was sick of being the butt of everyone's jokes.

“Not at all. Look. A one man band. Played all those instruments.”

“Bet he didn't do it very well,” Jayne spat, looking pointedly in Mal's direction. Oblivious, the Captain continued with his task.

Wash set another platter down. “What's that old saying? Jack of all trades, master of none? Which I would like to explain is why this meal won't bear much resemblance to one. Jayne and I have other skills. Useful skills. Skills you might even call essential.”

“Damn straight,” Jayne agreed. Nevertheless he helped himself to a large bowl of whatever it was that had such an unusual consistency.

“Ruttin' hell!” Mal snapped suddenly, pushing the pieces of the map away in exasperation. “Ain't no way that piece of le se goes together.”

River leaned over the table and quickly clipped all the pieces together perfectly. “Simple.” But the central panel was missing. “Just got to know where the heart is. Ain't lost. Just given to someone who don't know.”

The others nodded encouraginngly. They didn't understand, but no longer felt the need to try. River was River, that was all.

“Well it's still useless without this bit,” Mal said huffily, jabbing angrily at the gap with his forefinger.”Can't do the heist without knowing exactly where the valuables are kept, can we?”

Kaylee shifted in her seat, realizing she was sitting on something.

“Think I might have what you was lookin' for Captain,” she murmured, holding out the square of plastic, half in fear of a tongue lashing..

He looked at the square and then at her. Straight into her eyes for the longest time. And finally it dawned on him. He smiled.

“Yes, li'l Kaylee, I do believe you might.”

The End