“I’ve set a course for Greenleaf,” Wash said to Mal, who was sitting at the Kitchen table with a cup of tea in his hand that he had yet to drink.

“Right,”

“Should be there in about four days,”

“Right,”

“Somethin’ the matter, Cap’n?”

“Nothin’, Wash,”

“Alright…” Wash returned to the cockpit, his forehead wrinkled with worry. Ana entered, making two cups of tea. Mal suddenly slammed his cup on the table and went to his room, leaving Ana to raise an eyebrow after him.

“Thanks,” Kaylee said as she was handed one of the cups of tea, her face streaked with dirt, the top buttons of her jumpsuit undone.

“Sure,” Ana said, sipping her tea as well. They sat in silence for a moment, and Ana sat the unfinished cup down on the shelf of tools.

“What’s the matter?” Kaylee asked, looking at Ana. Her face was sullen but not, creased and thoughtful, frozen.

“I’ll be around,” she replied, and got up and headed towards the Captain’s room.

*

A knock at the door sent Mal’s patience through the roof. “What?” he snapped at it.

“Just me Cap’n,” Ana’s voice said.

“What do you need?”

“A word, that’s all,”

“Cheeng jeen,” Ana climbed down the steps, looking sort of humble.

“What?” Mal asked, but not as snappy as he’d been before. She really was pretty, even when she was a little dirty from helping Kaylee in the engine room.

“There’s something wrong, isn’t there?” she asked, and her eyes were like stinging probes, and he could not hold her gaze. “Nothing’s wrong,” he replied with his teeth clenched, his muscles tight.

“Your body language would indicate otherwise,” Ana said, looking at his clenched fists.

“It’s none of your business,” This was greeted with a mirthless laugh.

“Oh, how many times I’ve heard the one before. Well it is my business- you’re my captain, sir,” Mal was silent, and he released his tension, letting out a huff.

“You’re thinking of Inara, aren’t you?” His eyes suddenly leapt to her face.

“How did you know?”

“It’s not a well hidden secret, in case you didn’t notice,” she said without sarcasm. “Everyone was surprised you let me have the shuttle. I was bound to understand one day,” Mal looked at the ground, his heart was like a coiled spring.

“You’re suffering. I can see it, now especially. You don’t have to do that, you don’t have to hurt yourself. It’s really counterproductive to this ship and stuff, plus it makes you feel like go se,” She had knelt beside him as he sat on his bed, and instead of it feeling out of place it felt perfectly normal. After all she had come in here before. But her words burned him, made his ego shudder.

“I’m not hurting myself,” he said, indignant. “Yes you are. That’s what suffering is, it’s all mental. I have this philosophy…” She pulled a necklace out of her pocket, a leather strip with a beautiful old Japanese coin strung on it through the hole in its middle.

“You see this? It’s a really old coin, it’s not even worth anything now. This is the only piece of jewelry I own,” Mal couldn’t help but chuckle. “Really?”

“Yes. It means very little to me though- I wore it at my mother and father’s 50th anniversary, but they got to 55 before the gorram alliance officers killed them. Then I wore it to my brother’s first wedding, but they were divorced a year later. I wore it to my cousin’s shindig on Shadow, which was ages ago. I wore it to one of my old friend’s birthday parties, no big deal,” She twirled the necklace around her finger.

“So this is a memory, a memory of life. Of my life. That’s the only reason I keep it. It’s a piece,” she held it dangling in front of them.

“This is a memory. I have my theory, and I’m not asking you accept it. But listen. Here’s the memory. It can be anything, sentimental, important, or not. But if you let it go…”-she dropped the necklace to the floor- “You’ll lose it. It will be buried under denial and forgotten. But,” She snatched up the coin and took Mal’s hand. He strained against her touch; it was feather light, but firm, demanding, insistent, and passionate.

“If you keep them, hold onto them…” She put the coin necklace into his hand, closing her hand around his and his hand around it. “You’ll always have them, they’ll always be there. And In a sense, so will who or whatever they were about. They’re pieces too. Don’t’ throw them away, or you’ll be broken, missing parts. But if you overuse them, they’ll die out, get tired, stop working. Think about it,” she said, leaving him holding the coin, staring after her as she left.