Kaylee’s Lament

Part Thirteen

“I’ve always wondered what this felt like,” mused Mal, snuggling down into Inara’s bed. “Pillows are a little lumpier than I’d’ve figured. Sheets is soft, though. That’s a mighty nice paintin’ over the bed, there, too. Never thought I’d have the funds to see to it.” “You still don’t," Inara said with a crafty smile, pulling the sheet up to her chin seductively. “This one is a freebie.” Mal rolled over to face her. “I guess that’s why I still have my pants on.” “One of the many, many reasons,” Inara agreed emphatically. “And why you’re still in a nightdress.” “It’s a negligee, actually, but yes.” “From a purely objective, business-like perspective?” “Yes?” “It’s a highly effective advertising element. I’d say you got your money’s worth.” “It was a gift, actually. But thanks.” “Isn’t this playful banter making you powerful uncomfortable?” “I’ve been in bed with idiots before. Though they were usually successful enough to make up for it. You get used to it.” “’Spose you can get used to anythin’ you do it often enough.” “The mustache is a nice touch.” “Thanks! I—” “Say one word about a ride, and I’ll show you a pressure point that will make you writhe in agonizing pain for an hour.” “I gotta pay extra for that?” “All you have and all you can borrow.” “Fella could get right used to a comfortable bed like this,” Mal said, settling back. As he did so, his eye caught on the Alliance military uniform hanging above him on a hook. It bore two stars, and a highly ornate cap hung over it. “’Sides, who says I’m unsuccessful? Two stars. And at my age. That’s gotta be worth somethin’.” “Honestly? Military men are occasionally charismatic, intelligent, and charming, but truth is their performance is usually inversely proportional to their rank.” “You know I was a Sergeant in the war.” “Yes, I’m sure you were much better then.” “Didn’t think you were really the ‘Army Whore’ type.” “I’m not. But I occasionally enjoy being kinky.” “Nice to know that a—” “Incoming wave for General Edmonton!” Wash’s voice called out over the intercom. “Oh, thank God,” murmured Inara. Mal sighed. “Just when I was getting’ comfortable.” “Just answer the gorram wave and get this over with.” “Hey, we’re on my meter right now, remember?” “Better be a tip in it for me.” “Guys, could you shut up and answer the damn wave?” Wash pleaded. “He’d expect to wait, Wash, Generals don’t jump for every wave from a junior assistant flunky — generally.” She looked at Mal. “You’re up. Remember: you are a general, and you are used to every word you utter being instantly obeyed. And you are pissed off because you have been disturbed in your mistress’s bed.” “No problem with the pissed-off part,” Mal mumbled as he turned to face the pick-up. Inara pulled the sheet over her face and turned away. Mal put on a convincing scowl. "Gun-hoe-tze-bee-dio-se has the authority to call me at this hour—” he squinted. “Who the hell are you?” “Uh, uh my name is Wendell, sir, and I’m calling about this medical supply requisition for a Dr. Worthington . . .” he trailed off, hoping the General would know what he was talking about. Mal let his face unfurl into an irate expression. “Do I look like Dr. Worthington to you?” he bellowed. “Nosir, it’s just that – the request has a notation that if there are any issues with shipment that you are to be contacted for any authorizations necessary . . .” “Well hell, boy, I authorize whatever the hell you need me to to get that go se here and Dr. Worthington and you – Wendell? You said your name is Wendell? Wendell, Wendell, Wendell you know they say if you say a name three times while looking at a face you’ll never forget either one. Wendell, you get that go se loaded as quick as you can and get it here quick as you can, I don’t care what it costs. Pay triple rates if you must, but I want that go se here within two fortnights, or I’m going to lose me a good doctor and that’s gonna give me plenty of time to take a personal interest in your career – dong fa?” “Yes sir!” came the frightened voice. “I’ll see to it, sir!” “I think that would be best,” growled Mal. He leaned closer into the pick up, staring and the monitor searchingly. “You in the War, boy?” “N-no, sir,” Wendel replied. “Had a bad back, sir,” he added. “In my day, that wasn’t a decent excuse! You’re a pretty sorry excuse for a man, you don’t even try to kill some rebellious Browncoats,” Mal intoned viciously. “I . . . I—” Inara’s hand snaked up to Mal’s shoulder seductively. He leaned over and kissed the fingers tenderly, then looked back into the pickup. “You handle it, Wendell, and I don’t want to have to deal with this matter again, am I understood?” “Yess—” Mal cut him off. He grinned and laid back, putting his fingers behind his head. “Y’know, that was kinda fun!” he said. “Always wondered what it’d be like to be a General. I guess that’s two firsts in one day.” “Oh, what a day for fantasy fulfillment that you will cherish forever. Good show, by the way. And to think I suspected that playing an asinine, pompous military officer would be a stretch for you, Mal. Who knew the talent you had?” “Perhaps a career on the stage would have done me good. Aw, who’m I kidding, I’d probably be poor, poverty stricken between jobs, surrounded by vagabonds and misfits and crazy people – not to mention loose women – what kind of life is that to lead?” “Yes, I’m sure you couldn’t handle the stress of an insecure, itinerant existence, which is why you took up crime as a profession.” “Well, Ambassador, I got the room for another ten minutes – you wanna show me a little o’ that vaunted Companion training?” “As much pleasure as it would give me to show you how well I can act when . . . nothing much is happening, I believe we have a prior engagement.” She rose, putting on a diaphanous robe that did little to hide her body. If she did it more slowly than was absolutely necessary, neither one of them had the poor manners to point it out. “Yeah, I think I’m needed elsewhere,” Mal said, rising on his side of the bed. “I appreciate the tour, money’s on the dresser. I can show myself out.” If he was putting his shirt on a little more slowly than absolutely necessary, neither one of them had the poor manners to point it out. “Yes, you certainly aren’t needed here,” Inara said, nose just a tad in the air as she fluffed her hair and flipped in back over one shoulder. “Best be leavin’” “Best you should.” She escorted him to the hatch, where Jayne was lurking. “How’d it go? He buy it?” he asked eagerly. “Yeah, in the can,” Mal said. “Mal did a great job,” Inara said. They looked at each other a moment longer than necessary. “I’ll be in my bunk,” they both said simultaneously, held each other’s glance, then turned and went their separate ways. Jayne stood there, blinking, sure he had missed something.

*

*

*

“Can I wear the eyepatch after we’re done?” begged Wash. “I think it makes me look a little . . . dangerous and sinister. Kinda sexy, don’t you think?” “It’s a look,” Zoe agreed without judgment, letting Inara fix her hair in a sloppy topknot. She bore an evil-looking scar that ran from her left eyebrow down to her jawline, spidering out over her cheek. “Better than that cheesy mustache you used to wear,” she said. “Again with the mustache? Why pick on a mustache that hasn’t been living on my lip for two whole years?” “Small price to pay to lure me into your bed,” she said. “I lured you? You lured me!” “I seduced, you lured.” “I seduced, you hit me over the head with your club and dragged me back to your cave, you Amazonian brute!” “If you guys are about done with the foreplay,” Mal said, coming into the bridge, “I thought you’d like to know that I just got a wave from the McKlintocks, and they’ve agreed to the rendezvous.” “That’l be nice,” Zoe said, closing the mirror she was examining herself in. “Ain’t seen them for near a year, now.” “They been running a triangular route for the last few months: Persephone, Beaumont, and Vesta. Devon says the regular route has let him build up some regular clients.” “Probably best, considering his situation,” Zoe said, straightening her hat. “Mal, does this scar make me look fat?” “Yes,” Mal said without thinking. “You have no idea just how close to death you just came. Sir,” Zoe said after a moment’s thought. “Good, hold that thought and work with it. Remember, you’re supposed to be disreputable but reliable.” “Another dramatic stretch,” Wash pointed out, putting his feet on the console and picking up a stegosaurus by the tail and using it to gesture with. “Oh, and hide the dinosaurs,” suggested Mal. “What?” asked Wash in disbelief. “My babies?” “They are too idiosyncratic, too easy to recognize. Details like that could give the show away.” “Put away the toys, dear,” Zoe agreed. Wash looked down at the console-turned-diorama and frowned. “Okay, boys, were gonna take a little trip. But it’s just hibernation, not extinction, I promise.” He swept them off and into a box, and with a sad little moan he even plucked the plastic pal trees off and tossed them in as well. “Cenozoic evidence has been removed from the area, sir,” Wash said. “And I brought these up. Borrowed them from Jayne,” Mal said, handing Zoe a bobble-headed geisha doll and a poster for a tawdry Rim-world koto player that was as gaudy as the musician was known for being flamboyantly crude. Zoe handled it with obvious distaste. “Oh, Sir, do we have to go . . . there?” “Inara says that the key to obfuscation is distraction. That’s why your hubby there has the three-days-beard, the ratty uniform and the creepy looking eyepatch, and why you got that silly hat and disgusting scarification. Keep someone from lookin’ at what you really look like.” “The eyepatch is dangerously sexy, not creepy,” Wash corrected, placing the geisha in a prominent position on his console, in front of the communication pickup. “This is kinda shiny, actually” he said, setting the head bobbling with a thumb. “Next time, might I recommend matching Jesus and Buddha statues? The glow-in-the-dark ones give a ‘scum-of-the-Black-with-a-heart-of-gold’ look so popular with the higher class of degenerate. Nothing like a criminal with a conscience to elicit misplaced sympathy.” “Favor that school of thought myself,” admitted Mal, the irony not lost on him. “Oh, and here, almost forgot,” he said, pulling out a stick of incense out from behind his ear. “Borrowed this from Inara. She thought the smoke might further obscure the pickup.” “And now my cockpit is going to smell like a cathouse,” Wash complained. “You would know, wouldn’t you, sweetie,” shot Zoe, who still hadn’t let him forget his experience on Sophia. She lit the stick and stuck it into the console. “First the dinos, now this? No toys, no pretty shirt, no fresh, Wash-scented air – I knew it! You’re just trying to change me! I thought you loved me for who I was?” “There’s still the eyepatch, which is driving me to distraction.” “Really?” he asked, touching it. “Oh, yes, I’m all aflutter, and right moist and turgid with desire.” “Gee, hon, if your face wasn’t brutally disfigured I’d be all over you right now.” “I’m such a lucky woman.” A beeping and flashing on the console caught Wash’s attention. “Call coming in, and from the Core, dontcha know? Places, people!” “Remember, disreputable, reliable. Gruff but lovable. Oh, almost forgot,” he said, slapping a homemade decal on the locker behind Wash’s head. It read ARACHNE’S REVENGE TRANSPORT & HAULING – GOLDEN PEAR BLOSSOM DIVISION. “Just relax,” Mal added, “And try to have fun with it.” He disappeared. Wash and Zoe took places, Wash more or less where he usually sat, perhaps slightly more slumped over, and Zoe standing behind him – looming, really. Wash stabbed the connect with his index finger. “Ni freakin’ how. Yeah? Oh, Golden Pear Blossom, Spike Watson. What the hell do you want?” Willard the Clerk was on the other end, his face a tiny smear on the monitor. He looked visibly taken aback. “Uh, may I speak to – Captain Kuan?” “Let me see if the Captain can spare a moment from her busy schedule.” He looked back over his shoulder, having to stretch his neck further because of the eyepatch. “Cap’n, you spare a moment from your busy schedule?” “Get out of the chair, you idiot.” She pushed him aside. “I’m Captain Regina Kuan. What can I do for you?” “My name is Willard, and I’m calling from Alliance Supply. I see on the cortex that your itinerary will bring you to Heracles Station in twenty days time,” he said, trying his best to be pleasant. “I was hoping to hire you to transport a load out there, pick up here at the depot.” Zoe looked like she thought the man had three heads. “I gotta go where? From where?” “Take a load from the Alliance supply depot to Heracles Station,” he repeated slowly. “Dong fa?” “Oh, I understand,” Zoe said, rubbing her chin. “Ain’t gonna be cheap. How much tonnage we talkin’?” “Actually quite a lot. Just under what your max rated load is for a . . . Firefly is it? Yes, this will nearly fill your hold.” Zoe swore richly in Mandarin. “You want me t’dump my cargo to take y’all’s on, for one trip? That amounts to a charter. My rates is higher for charter work.” “Fine, fine. But it has to be prompt.” “Heracles Station, y’say?,” Zoe continued. “That takes us through some mighty rough parts o’the Black. Pirates. Reavers. We gotta pass an Alliance base both ways. They probably gonna wanna stop us and search. Gonna take more time, more headache, and cost more.” “I can take care of that,” Wendell said, assuredly. “I can get you a passcode that’ll get you past the checkpoint. Your cargo is medical supplies, which allows me to write up an EMS-117a application for emergency humanitarian aid. It’ll also allow you to refuel at no cost at Alliance fuel depots.” “Mr. Wendell, you’re startin’ t’interest me,” Zoe said, leering. “I’ll wave y’all a contract. You look it over, you like it, you sign it. Otherwise, no deal. Dong fa?” “Good, General Edmonton will be glad to hear it.” “Wait, hold on, you said Edmonton? Big, ugly ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng with a gou tsao de mustache and two fei oo stars on his gorram shoulder?” “Uh, I believe that’s the gentleman,” Wendell said carefully. “He’s the commanding officer at Heracles Station, from what I understand. Is that a problem?” “No, no problem,” Zoe assured, a steely tone in her voice. “But your fee just doubled!” “Jien tah-duh gway , why?” Wendell asked, eyes wide. “Who do you think did this?” Zoe said evilly, running her finger down the scar on her cheek dramatically. “I’ll wave the contract in a few hours. Kuan out.” She tagged the disconnect and rose. Mal reappeared, clapping enthusiastically. Wash joined in. “I was a might worried ‘bout that Edmonton line there at the end,” Mal said, grinning. “But you doublin’ the fee like that? And gettin’ a free fuel voucher on top of it? Pure genius!” “Thank you, Sir,” Zoe said, whipping the cap off. “That was kinda fun!” “Yes, I rather enjoyed my part, too,” Mal said. Zoe looked at him accusingly. “Hey, I didn’t come up with the plan, I’m merely a humble player.” “I thought it was all shiny. Did you like how gruff but lovable I was honey?” Wash asked. “I did,” Zoe said, smiling affectionately and pulling him into an embrace. “Can’t wait to see what’s under that eyepatch!” “Argh!” Wash scowled, affecting the mannerisms of a stereotypical pirate. “Are me ears deceivin’ me? Am I about to get me timbers shivered?” “And Zoe,” added Mal, mildly. “Yes, Captain?” she said, rubbing noses with her husband. “What was that about Edmonton bein’ a big, ugly ching-wah tsao duh liou mahng with a gou tsao de mustache?” “A credit to Inara’s skill with makeup, Sir.” “Apart from that lip fuzz, Inara didn’t use any makeup.” “Just tryin’ to make it a believable story, Captain.” “I see. You kids have fun, now. Don’t mind me. I’ll just, uh, go help Jayne pull out the splice, and then we can be on our way to the rendezvous with the McKlintocks.” “Will do, Sir. Get the hell out.” “I’ll just, uh, do that then.” And he did, shutting the cockpit door behind him. “Y’know,” Wash said, dreamily. “That scar is kind of cute, in a kinky sort of way.” “I’m getting used to the eyepatch, too. But ‘Spike’? What kind of name is ‘Spike’?” “What’s wrong with Spike?” asked Wash defensively. “It sounds like a sly cabaret singer, not a rough-and-tumble soldier of fortune. How could you ever take someone with a pansy name like Spike seriously?” “I thought it sounded kinda dangerous . . . and phallic.” “Well, I guess if you look at it that way . . .” she kissed him hungrily. “I wonder if Captain Regina Kuan is the type of woman who would sleep with a member of her crew?” Wash studied his wife carefully. “That drunken tchen wah? She’ll hop on any one-eyed sly cabaret singer that happens by!” “We should play dress up more often,” breathed Captain Regina. “Next time you wear the eyepatch, I’ll wear the scar!” whispered Wash passionately. They didn’t come out of the bridge for a very long time.

*

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*

“I’m happy to report,” Simon said, tossing the plans on the kitchen table, “Phase Two is complete. From Wendell’s contract, we have a scheduled pick up date two weeks hence.” “Hoo-gorram-ray,” grumbled Jayne. “This lame-ass plan is taken too gorram long. What ever happened to knockin’ over a bank, or robbin’ a train, or stealin’ stuff from rich guys?” “Ah, yes,” Simon said, dreamily, “the Classics.” “We done spent a lot o’ time and treasure on this caper,” Mal said. “We gotta see it thru.” “How come he gets to say ‘caper’ but I don’t?” Simon asked, accusingly. “It just better pay off. So far all I done is move some heavy stuff and spend some quality time with a spacesuit. Where’s the daring-do in that?” “It sounds manly when he says it,” Wash pointed out. “With you, not so much.” “It just don’t seem like a crime when all we done so far is play dress-up,” Jayne continued. “Try to expand your horizons, Jayne. There are thousands of crimes out there you haven’t committed yet,” Book said cheerfully. “I can be manly. I held a man at gunpoint,” reminded Simon. “Armed robbery is just one of the many facets of a criminal career, Jayne. Don’t be afraid of your full potential. Besides, the payoff on this one stands to be worth it.” “It’s not just applied testosterone, Doc, it’s how you say it. Try it: ‘cay-per’,” Wash encouraged. “I thought the costumes and such were shiny,” Zoe said. “Inara, you’re a genius.” “ ‘Cay-per. Cayper,” Simon tried, pitching his voice progressively lower. “Thanks!” said Inara, beaming. “It was that make-up kit Zoe had, though. Where in the Black did you find a Christian Han superset out here? Those things cost upwards of a thousand credits!” “ ‘Cay-per, cay-per,” Wash continued. “Try to get more of your gut into it.” “I’m just sayin’: hurtin’ people an’ breakin’ stuff is my fort. Don’t hardly look like I’ll get much of an opportunity.” “I got it on Sophia. Salvage from a yacht got took by pirates. Paid ten thin credits for it, too. Most powerful weapon in the ‘verse: makeup, and a woman who knows how to use it. I’m just glad someone did. Isn’t exactly my ‘fort’ either.” “It’s ‘for-tay’, not fort, Jayne,” Kaylee said. “Pass the green stuff?” “ ‘Cay-per! Cay . . .per. Caper! How’s that?” “Plenty of hurt to be had, this caper goes wrong,” Mal reminded him. “Here, pass that to Kaylee, please.” “Look, he just said it again!” “For-tay? Y’mean, I been sayin’ it wrong all these years? Ai ya!” “It’s a fabulous set, Zoe. It’s got everything! All high-end, too. Most Companions don’t even have one that good.” “Let’s pray that don’t happen,” said Book. “Lot of folks are countin’ on this goin’ well. Bringin’ medicine to the sick is the only reason I’m helping on this . . . caper. Not for the ill-gotten gains.” “Look, Book said it too!” “Don’t let it worry you none, Jayne, I’m sure no one noticed,” assured Kaylee. “So far, so good, Shepherd,” said Mal. “You can borrow it anytime you want, Inara. Just show me how to use it, if you would. Have to look sexy for hubby, y’know. Wouldn’t want his eyes wanderin’ around the McKlintocks.” “I can’t wait to see ‘em,” Kaylee said, smiling. “It’s been a year since the last time, almost. I bet little Owen is growin’ like a weed!” “He’s got all that fancy Shepherd training about public speaking. And he puts enough ironic spin on it to carry it off,” suggested Wash. “I bet Hayden’s huge by now,” Zoe commented. “I can’t believe I been sayin’ it wrong all this time,” said Jayne, shaking his head. “So if Mal or Book say cay-per,” Simon said, “it sounds legitimate.” “It’s the accent over the ‘e’,” Inara instructed. “That’s how you tell.” “He’s gotta be, what, bout one an’ a half, now? Eighteen months?” Kaylee asked. “Pass the . . . the potato-lookin’ stuff, if you would there, Shepherd,” Mal said. “And it’ll be nineteen months by the time we meet up.” “It’s the way you say it, I guess. Like you put quotes around it or something.” Wash shrugged. “I guess you just don’t sound authentic. Try dropping the last ‘r’. ‘Cay-pr.” “What accent?” Jayne asked, mystified. “He was such a little itty bitty baby!” Zoe said, smiling. “And it feels just like yesterday!” “Here you go, Captain,” said Book. “So how did you come to meet these folks?” “Cay-pr. Caay-pr.” “There’s an accent over the ‘e’. “F-o-r-t-e with an accent,” supplied Inara. “’Bout two years ago, we were bringin’ some timber from Beaumont to Xian, we had some engine trouble,” Mal explained. “Kaylee had us limpin’ along about a third what we shoulda been flyin’.” “That’s better, Cay-pr. Lower your voice: Cay-pr.” “Oh, he was so cute I could just eat him up with a spoon!” Kaylee sighed. “There’s an ‘e’ in fortay?” “We were way behind schedule, and could’ve been in trouble. Way out in the Black, flyin low, as usual. Alliance don’t like untaxed timber to be showin’ up on new worlds.” “Cay-pr. Cay-pr. No, wait: Cay-pr.” “Oh, yes he was! Had his momma’s eyes, his daddy’s mouth.” Zoe agreed. “Yes, it’s from the French,” said Inara. “So we’re limpin’ along, and outa the Black comes this ancient, ancient transport, old Sea Dragon class bulk freighter, long range barge, really, shoulda been retired for scrap years ago!” “ ‘I think the cay-pr is going very well,’” offered Simon. “French? I thought that was what a whore did fer five credits,” Jayne said, plainly confounded. “Don’t say that about the Sky Hawk!” Kaylee declared defensively. “She’s beautiful!” She turned to Zoe. “Y’know, I want to have babies.” “Still sounds, I don’t know, not right. You’re making it sound forced.” “So the Sky Hawk comes up, and this character named Duncan McKlintock is the captain. Short-haul transport, same as we’re doin’, but not as much smuggling – ‘cause his crew are all his family!” “Cay-pr, caay- wait, what was that?” asked Simon, whipping his head around. “French is a language, Jayne,” Inara said gently. “From Earth-That-Was.” “I want at least two – if I can get Mr. Fear-of-commitment to cooperate, that is,” Zoe said, casting a meaningful glance at her husband. “His whole family?” Book asked. “I heard that,” Wash shouted out. “That’s closer. You can’t put any emphasis on it, or it loses its impact.” “And fortay is French? Then how come when I—” “Yep, every soul. Two wives, a brother, ‘bout nine kids from seventeen to seven months. As nice a family as you could ask for.” “It’s complicated, Jayne,” Inara interrupted. “The French influenced a lot of cultures. They really set styles for all of Earth-That-Was for hundreds of years. Including certain sexual acts which they allegedly accomplished quite . . . proficiently.”: “I’m glad you did hear it, dear,” Zoe warned. “I said it loud enough.” “I think I want about five,” Kaylee said. “Y’know, big family.” “How they manage out here on the Rim? With all the outlaws, and the war and such?” “Huh. I guess you could say history an’ such just ain’t my . . . fortay.” “Do you want to argue this in front of our whole crew?” asked Wash. “Five?” squeaked Simon. “They do as we do, run when they can, fight when they can’t, find a job, just keep flyin’.” Mal looked wistful. “Anyway, they docked, helped us out, fixed the problem, and went on their way – didn’t ask no questions, ‘cept what was neighborly. Only charged for the part. Met up with them a few more times, too, here and there over the Rim. Right friendly folk.” “Bravo, Jayne!” Inara clapped. “That’s exactly right.” “No dear, just want you to shut up and fold like you usually do.” “I think it’d be fun, bein’ a mommy.” “Seems a might dangerous way to bring up young’uns.” “Shiny! Learned me somethin’ new!” “Five?” repeated Simon. “They do all right,” insisted Mal. “They’re good folks. World ain’t any more safer for young ‘uns as the Black. Saw to that in the War.” “Funny, honey. I don’t fear commitment – I just don’t think . . .” “Not all at once,” said Kaylee. “What’s that mean, fortay, anyway? In French?” “Yes, plenty of children died. On both sides,” Book said, lowering his eyes. “Don’t think what? Dear?” “But five?” “It means ‘strong’, or ‘strength’. Coincidently, it also means the part of a sword or knife that’s best for slashing, near the point.” “Life in the Black is as good as a life anywhere, you ask me,” Mal said quietly. “I just think it’s kind of irresponsible to bring up a kid on a spaceship,” Wash insisted. “Hey! I like that. So if something is my fortay . . .” “I like big families, is all,” Kaylee said defensively. “Five ain’t too many.” “Well, I suppose there’s a lot to be said for it,” agreed Book, after consideration. “We been in space for five centuries, now. Can’t see a reason why there should be an age limit.” “See?” pointed out Zoe. “The Shepherd agrees!” “. . . then it is your ‘strength’, something at which you excel,” finished Inara. “But five? Do you realize how much work that would be?” “Now don’t go dragging me into your private affairs,” protested Book. “I was speaking in very general terms.” “So kickin’ ass and huntin’ trim, that’d be my fortay!” “It wouldn’t be that much work . . . if I had a good daddy t’help.” “Zoe, this is a discussion for later. In our bunk..” “Yes, that’s some private business,” agreed Mal, eyeing them meaningfully. “Five.” Simon said simply. “Yes, if you want to be unsophisticated and crude, you would be correct to use it that way,” agreed Inara. “How come all of our discussions always lead to sex?” asked Wash. “River, you okay?” asked Zoe, concerned. River had not spoken throughout dinner. Her eyes had darted back and forth between the crew as they spoke. She had a glazed, distant expression on her face. She rose, looked at each one of them as if seeing them for the first time. “I want you to know that I love you all. And so does Serenity.” And with that she turned and walked away from the table. “What a bizarre – yet strangely sweet – thing to say,” commented Book. “She hasn’t been . . . I think her meds . . . I think the strain of this caper has been a bit much for her,” Simon explained. There was a pause as everyone turned to look at him. “I’m sure she’ll get over it,” he finished. There was another pause. “No, Doc,” Wash said, finally. “Still doesn’t work for you.” “Nope,” agreed Mal. “Can’t say as I disagree,” said Book. “Face it, Doc,” Jayne said, slapping Simon on the shoulder a might harder than Simon would have preferred. “Speechifyin’ just ain’t your . . . fortay.”