"Reavers!" Jayne said out loud hunkering further into the corner, the belts of ammo and spare guns strapped to his body clinking together as he did. Gorram Reavers had been on the ship the whole time! Now they’d gone and gotten the rest of the crew and that poor girl was about to get something awful from them.

It must have been Reavers hiding in the infirmary! He’d been right to run the other way. The others didn’t have his skill and they’d been captured or killed and now he was the only one left alive on this boat that could do anything about it.

Good thing he was down here with all his guns, where they’d never get him. Not alive and not without him taking out a dozen or so first. But that wouldn’t be enough would it? They’d keep on coming wouldn’t they? And they’d string him up and bleed him as long as they could on account of him killing so many of them.

Gorram Mal letting his boat go to pot like this.

The girl was quiet now. Everything was quiet. They’d gotten them all—every last one of them and he hadn’t heard one shot. Not one shot. What had they done, thrown some of that stew at them? Lit lettuce on fire and chucked it at them?

He was sweating like he never had before and he knew it was because the Reavers had started a fire to cook his crew. It was probably burning like crazy up there. All the oxygen in the place was going up like…well like stuff that burns a lot. There was no way out. They’d burn up all his air and let him die and he’d end up some big honking hood ornament on the front of their ship.

He was dead. Dead and gone and not one of the guns was going to make a heck of a lot of difference. He’d need a bigger gun then he’d ever seen. Something big and black that went boom. He needed something that would shake the whole damn ship and send them Reavers all back to the hell they came from.

And that’s when it hit him.

He began to laugh hard enough to make his head hurt and he had to wipe his hands good and hard before he could get a grip on the long skinny box under his bunk. He knew when he’d seen this sticking out under the tent flap at the gun show he had to take it. He thought maybe it had been a nice sniping rifle or hell, even a nice big bow. He had just reached down, scooped it up like he had dropped something, and thrown it on top of the other boxes. No one had given him a second look. Or at least he’d thought the one or two that did when he ran off wouldn’t have said anything. And he was certain those two guards he flattened on the way out hadn’t gotten a good look either.

Jayne lifted the safety locks and opened the lid, staring once more at the slim tube with the tiny fins along the casing.

"Old Jayne Cobb, they’ll say, he gave them as good as he got."

The missile was heavier than she looked. He had no idea how to fire the thing but the way those fellas came after her must have meant she was something special. Special enough to blow a good sized chunk of this ship and whoever was dumb enough to come down here after him across the next three moons. He stared at the shiny metal and rubbed the length of it.

A couple here and there, he thought wiping the sweat out of his eyes and reaching for the special bag of good grenades he kept hidden, yes, that ought to do just fine.

Simon left the engine room confused and still aching for Kaylee. He had never been hotter in his life and was surprised at the amount of sweat his body was producing—it was like his whole body was on fire.

The thought of Kaylee bouncing around in that tight jumper nearly sent him back to the engine room but he knew that was a lost cause. Why did she have to pick now of all times to start hearing crazy noises and tearing the engine apart? What he wouldn’t give for just ten uninterrupted minutes inside that hot room with her. He was just going to have to go back to his bunk and–

INARA!

What was wrong with him? There was a registered Companion right here on this ship. Surely she’d see the state he was in and provide relief…

He made his way to the stairwell and down toward the shuttle. He fought to redo the buttons on his shirt, pushing his hair into some semblance of order at the same time. She wasn’t like Kaylee; he was going to have to look proper. He felt his jaw tighten in anticipation as he got closer.

He started to practice his speech about needing maybe a little on credit but how he’d be glad to give her a cut of his share each time they got paid. He was good for it, surely she’d know that. Stopping in front of her shuttle door, he reached back to pound on it.

"SIMON!" River yelled, running toward him.

He rolled his eyes and held out a palm, "Now, River, please. I haven’t asked for much, but I need this right now. I can’t keep going all the time without thinking of my own needs once in a while."

"But Simon, please, you’ve got to…"

"Damnit River, no! I give and I give all the time and it’s all for you. Always for you!"

River’s eyes opened wide and she took a step back from him, "I know. I know what you did for me and I wanted you to be happy too. Happy like you’re always trying to make me. I didn’t want it bad like this. I didn’t mean for your pattern to change. I want you back. I need you back here with me, Simon."

Bracing herself on the railing she began to cry, staring at him as if he had beaten her. It nearly killed him. His world began to spin and his stomach began to burn. The sadness and regret he’d thought he’d buried deep inside churned and pushed their way into his thoughts. He lurched and fought against them before hurling himself against the wall, closing his eyes against the sight of River.

Keeping his forehead pressed against the cool metal, he tried to slow his breathing. River grabbed his shoulder and stroked his head.

"I’m sorry, Simon. I’m sorry. They’re all falling apart. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t," she told him through her sobs.

Simon wiped his mouth on his damp sleeve and tried his best to smile. "River, it’s going to be okay. I can make this better. Just tell me what it is that you did."

Book woke up groaning and wondered if his jaw had been broken. Touching his fingers to it tentatively, he tried to ignore the hot shards of pain and rose to his feet. He had been stupid to think he could take her on—he was good, but he wasn’t that good. Seven years of inactivity had weakened him. His reflexes weren’t as sharp and, much as he hated to admit it, he was getting old. Besides, it was obvious she had been trained well. Better then him. He had underestimated the ease with which he’d be able to take her down.

He felt like a man just waking up after a long sleep. For the last seven years, his life as a Shepherd—a passive man of peace—had been a sham. He wasn’t that man, had never been that man, would never be that man again.

With an angry growl he left the infirmary and headed toward his quarters. He was glad he hadn’t thrown out the mini-Link he’d found in Dobson’s bunk, although at the time he hadn’t realized what he’d kept it for. He knew now though. He had kept it because it had represented his old life; a way back to his old life. River Tam was his return ticket—he’d be a fool not to use her. The fact that he’d be the one beating her only made it that much sweeter. He had always believed in retribution.

The Link was where he’d left it, hidden in a niche under his bunk. Whipping out his ident-card, he inserted it into the slot and punched in his old access code. The tiny screen flashed at him, the Blue Sun logo blinking in welcome. Tapping the small pad, he quickly connected to the one man he knew wouldn’t ask questions.

He was gratified to note the small flash of surprise that flickered across Hodges face when the other man recognized him. "It’s you. I thought you’d retired."

Book smirked at that. "Hodges. I got her."

Simon was fighting to stay conscious. He’d given himself a shot of adrenaline to keep him sharp, but if the others were half as bad as he felt, they were all in serious trouble. Pouring the drugs into the stew was bad enough but he suspected the old proteins and the slow cooking times had produced a chemical reaction that had somehow turned the combination into an unpredictable substance.

The infirmary’s lights would not come on and he fumbled around for the emergency lights on the table for a few moments before finding them. The room was a mess. It looked as if someone had thrown a chair into the storage cabinets. He searched the floor where some cases had fallen, running his hands carefully over the broken glass and cursing.

He didn’t know if what was happening to them was something they could sleep off or something that would cause permanent damage, but he didn’t want to take any chances. He was going to have to find something to counteract the known drugs in their systems, but right now he just couldn’t see straight and his head was hurting like hell.

"Book’s not there anymore," River said from outside the Med Bay.

"What?" Simon asked her looking around the room. "I’m not looking for him. Listen, I’m going to need your help. You’re going to have to find me a light or something."

"Mal’s not going to like this," she said nervously. "It’s going to be bad soon."

"I can’t help that now. We’ll have to deal with that when the time comes. Please, River, I’m not sure how much longer I can stay conscious."

"Simon?"

River was still standing at the door. "What?!" he yelled at her.

"The cargo."

Kaylee stared at the parts she’d taken off the thruster coils and the ignition sequencer from the main drive. The noise persisted and she knew at any moment the engine was going to fly apart and tear Serenity up from the inside out. While she knew she’d be here when it happened and her punishment would be swift, the thought of failing the others almost brought her to tears.

The heat buildup in the engine room was immense. She couldn’t believe the metal casings were holding together without so much as a buckle or crack. That just made it worse for her because that meant the heat was coming from the reactor. If that went there wouldn’t be enough left of them to make a snow globe.

Frustrated and exhausted she smashed the decoupling wrench against the hull. She put her hand on one of the support beams and closed her eyes, the screams of the machine driving her to the ground.

Simon tore through the contents of the cargo as fast as he could. He’d given himself a shot of adrenaline, the only thing he could find in the infirmary that he was sure wouldn’t kill him immediately and would hopefully keep him from passing out.

Most of the drugs in the boxes were common stuff found almost anywhere and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to pay someone to rush a delivery of it. However at the center of each box were a small group of vials with no labels and only a sliver of clear glass through which he could see a deep red liquid. He piled them on top of the other boxes so he could look at them later.

He didn’t find the Anfredrin that River had told him about earlier until the fourth box and there was so little of it that he wasn’t sure it was going to be enough for everyone. He loaded what he could into the injectors and pocketed the rest.

"Is that what you needed?" River asked.

Simon looked at her and smiled weakly. The adrenaline was already starting to wear off and he felt light-headed.

"I think so. You did good, mei-mei. We’ll get through this."

His vision went black for a moment and he heard a loud crash and the sound of boxes falling around him.

River called out to him and he snapped awake. He was sitting on one of the boxes and some others had spilled out their contents around him. The weird vials had fallen from the top of the stack though and were now emptying their contents on the floor.

Mal was going to kill him.

They found Kaylee on the floor. Her skin was bright red but her breathing was deep and sounded good to Simon. He knew he couldn’t trust all of his thoughts just now as the effects of everything in his system made him feel heavy, like he was moving through shadows, but he couldn’t help thinking how amazing she was. He had taken her for granted, not stopping to realize she was the only thing keeping them all alive.

Her naiveté and constant optimism had annoyed him at first but now it seemed so integral, so utterly Kaylee, that if she were any other way he wouldn’t want to be with her as much as he did. With a sigh, he gave her the injection and gently brushed her hair from her face.

Kaylee moaned slightly as the drugs went into her body.

"Should we try to carry her back to her room?" River asked nervously.

"No we need to get to the others. She’ll be fine here. She’s just going to sleep very well for a while."

Mal was so close to her now that she could feel the heat flying in waves from his body.

"Are you okay?" She asked him, trying not to look him in those deep blue eyes staring at her from the couch. "You’re sweating a lot now."

He licked his lips and swallowed, "It’s just hot in here and I’m havin' a hard time thinking about anything but you right now. Is that jasmine?"

Inara barely heard his words. She was watching his lips as he inched even closer to her. She felt an answering heat rise within herself, her robe feeling heavy, like a wool blanket pressing her into the couch. She didn’t know what to do. All these things he was saying to her, everything she thought he wasn’t able or willing to say…all the things she got wrong when trying to dissect him a thousand times over in the night—he was saying them now. She didn’t know if she could trust him.

"What?" she managed, when his question finally registered.

"Jasmine…I smelled it on the shuttle…is that what you have on now?"

Inara nodded, gasping as Mal reached out and ran his hand up the sleeve of her robe, stopping at her shoulder and caressing it gently. She wonder what her mother would say if she could see her now—about to be ravaged by a pirate scoundrel.

"Mal," she murmured, "why are you telling me all this now? What do you hope to gain from this?"

Mal smiled at her and the openness and joy on his face sent her into full panic mode. She had never seen him look so happy, so carefree—so young. A million tiny bubbles exploded in her stomach. Her heart felt as if it were about to burst. She smiled back and reached out, running her hand gently through his hair.

He twisted his head to the side and kissed her palm tenderly, sending wave after wave of electric shocks into her soft places. "Always…wanted…so much…Inara."

"Mal…"

"Inara!" Simon yelled from the open door, "Is Mal in…oh."

Inara jumped up at the sound of her name and Mal fell forward into the couch when she moved.

"Do I need to start welding that cào thing shut?! What is it Simon?"

Simon blushed, "I needed to find Mal, something’s gone wrong with the stew, making everyone sick. Hot and fatigued maybe." He looked at Mal who was still face down on the couch. "It might be taking on different forms in each person though."

Inara stared at Simon in disbelief, "What?"

"Yeah, look I don’t have time to explain it all. I want to give everyone who ate the stew a shot to help the effects wear off, maybe keep things from getting worse. Did you eat any?"

Simon moved behind her and checked Mal’s vitals.

"No," she said still stunned from the news, "Kaylee brought me some but I didn’t have it… He seemed perfectly...normal. He was very talkative, very, um lucid even."

"He ate a decent amount," he said, sending the injection into Mal’s arm. "Twice what I did and I’m barely hanging on here with an adrenaline shot. It twists your thoughts. I barely remember what I said to Kaylee but I think it wasn’t really me talking."

Inara felt the blood rush out of her face, "Simon, are you sure?"

"Sure?" he returned. "I’m not sure about anything right now. Things are already getting fuzzy from ten minutes ago, so I need to get to the others. Are you positive you didn’t have any of the stew?"

She nodded and Simon stood to leave, "Where are you going? You can’t leave him here."

"I barely have the strength to walk, Inara, I can’t carry him. I can help move him to the bed maybe."

"The hell you will," she said remembering the loose robe and pulling it around her, fighting the sinking feeling in her chest as it slid past the spot Mal’s lips had just been on her. She read the look on his face and grunted her acceptance.

"Pì huà"

Simon heard the door to Jayne’s bunk hiss and then let out a loud clank as the lock disengaged.

"You got it!" he yelled down the hall to River, where she had been trying to override the manual lock, and jumped into the room.

Jayne stood there in front of him, pointing a very large weapon at him. The long tube was barely held up under one arm and he was leaning heavily against the wall. In each hand he held a large silver grenade with the arming pins clearly pulled half way out. His clothes were soaked with sweat and he was breathing through his mouth heavily.

"Jayne," Simon said trying to inch closer, "I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but I need you to put that stuff down…very carefully."

Jayne’s eyes slowly tracked him, "Doc, I thought you was a Reaver. I coulda blown us all up with this here missile."

"There are no Reavers, Jayne," Simon stammered out, reaching for the tip of the missile.

"No Reavers?" Jayne repeated blearily, barely reacting when River jumped down into the bunk. "Riiiveerrr. Now ain’t that a hoot."

Jayne let his arms relax, letting the missile and the grenades drop from his grasp, snickering when Simon and River both recoiled. “It don’t work like that you dumb māos.”

Simon rushed forward and let the big man rest his respectable weight on him, giving him the shot awkwardly.

"Goin’ to sleep now," Jayne stumbled forward and fell on his bunk, almost dragging Simon down with him.

"What about your guns?"

"Leave ‘em," Jayne mumbled. He was snoring within seconds.

Wash and Zoe’s cabin was bigger than most and probably had been meant for the Captain of the ship. Mal had obviously let the two lovers have it, but Simon would have loved to have heard that conversation. At one point he was sure it had been a nice room too, very neat and clean the way Zoe ran most of her life. That, however, was all in the past. The room now appeared as if someone had given life to both all their clothes and all their linens and then set them upon each other in a fight to the death.

Zoe, her bare form barely covered by a thin sheet lay face down on the bed. It looked as if she had been covered in haste. The room smelled of sweat and love. It was not helping Simon to keep steady.

"Last man looked at my wife like that got his brains all spilled out of his head," Wash said stumbling in from the bathroom, an empty bottle in his hand. He was totally naked except for a wet towel on his head and a single fuzzy slipper he had somehow managed to get on his foot. "You know, Zoe’s got a lot of guns around here."

"I’m a doctor, Wash. I’ve seen naked people before you know."

"Not my Zoe, you haven’t"

"Look, I don’t have a lot of time here. I need to give you both a shot."

Wash laughed and walked over to the bed. "Will it wake her ass up? Poor girl didn’t make it much past round twelve." He slapped the mattress next to her. "Gave it to her good this time, Doc. Reaaal good."

Simon tried not to laugh. "I’m sure you did, but this won’t wake her. It will make you both sleep actually."

"Well who needs to sleep? The night is young!"

Simon shook his head ruefully. "You’ll be getting those shots now."

The adrenaline was almost through his system now and the effects of the false stimulation had taken its toll. It had been all he could do just to manage Wash back to bed with his wife and now he felt his legs buckle and starting to fail. River was trying to support him.

"Simon, I think you need to lie down now," River told him.

Simon put a hand down to keep from falling. "We still need to give Shepherd Book his shot."

"I can do it."

Simon wanted to tell her he was okay, but she was reading him too well now. "Are you sure? I haven’t even seen him since this all started. He could be anywhere now."

"I know where he is, I’ll take care of him," she replied. "Let me give you your shot now. You should have taken yours first"

"I’d be asleep in the med lab if I had. I couldn’t take that risk."

"You’re not going to make it to your bed."

"Kaylee’s bunk is closer anyway. I wish she was." He grinned at the thought of sleeping in her bed, the way the sheets and pillow would smell like her. "You’re going to be okay, right?"

River watched Simon turn and stumble down the hall before she leaned against the wall herself and closed her eyes. She had told Simon she was going to take care of Book and she was—only not the way her brother had thought.

She knew he wasn’t Book right now. He was someone else—someone deadly. If she tried to medicate him they would both end up seriously injured. She couldn’t fight and try to make him better. She could feel his thoughts stabbing at her. He was Judas, but it was her fault.

Quietly, aware that any noise could give her away, she crept toward his quarters.

By the time Book realized that River was outside his door, it was too late to do anything about it—he was sealed in his room. His brain worked frantically as it tried to recall what Wash had said about overriding the locks from the inside, but he was finding it harder and harder to concentrate. He was so hot. His vision swam and his eyes burned. He felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest. It occurred to him just before he passed out that River knew what he had done—she knew, and she had somehow managed to poison him. He was going to die and it was his own fault—he had been out of the game too long and had lost his edge. Underestimating River had been a big mistake. He only hoped Hodges would come through for him.

Stumbling to the door, he leaned against it weakly. "I know you’re out there, girl." His voice was guttural—harsh. "It’s too late to stop me… you hear what I’m saying to you? It’s too late; they know where you are."

He pressed his forehead against the cool metal and started laughing. "You might have killed me, girl, but I’ve killed you too."

Inara watched Mal as he slept and tried to figure out what she was going to do now. Not even an hour ago, he had been telling her things she never thought she’d hear him say—and she had been listening.

If Simon hadn’t arrived when he had, who knows what would have happened. She liked to think that she would have graciously shown him the door, but she knew that wasn’t true. She wanted him—she had almost from the first moment she’d set eyes on him, and that feeling had only grown as she got to know him.

What that said about her, she didn’t really know. She was a Companion, had spent years in the training house learning how to avoid entanglements, and yet… her first time away from the watching eyes of the guild, an entanglement was exactly what she’d found.

The question she needed to ask herself was this: was she willing to throw everything away because of him? Right now, the answer was no. In another couple of weeks—who knew what the answer would be.

With a sigh, she turned back to the settee and settled into it. She couldn’t keep putting off the inevitable. She needed to leave.

Long after Book had finally fallen asleep, River remained sitting outside his quarters. She had breathed a sigh of relief when she’d felt his pattern reform and slide back into place several hours ago, but had not returned to her room. Instead, she had stretched out in front of his doorway and vowed to keep him safe. It was her fault he had been broken.

She knew it hadn’t been Book she’d locked in that room. It had been someone else—someone he’d buried deep inside—the man he’d been before he became Shepherd Derrial Book. He had scared her, almost as much as the Blue Hands scared her. She had seen his ghosts and they had wanted vengeance.

Book had more secrets than she did. And now she knew them all.

"Kaylee?" Simon murmured sleepily, throwing an arm around the pillow he was cuddled into and burying his face in it. The smell of strawberries and engine grease and sunshine particular to the little engineer teased him, enticing him from his dreams into a relaxed state of wakefulness. It had been years since he'd slept so well and months since his dreams had been so pleasant.

The sheet was pooled around his waist and he wondered vaguely where Kaylee had gone. He distinctly remembered…he remembered…nothing. But she had been here, with him—he was sure of it. How else to explain the looseness of his muscles and the feeling of sated well-being filling him?

"Kaylee?" Something solid was digging into the small of his back. Reaching down, he grabbed a wrench, pulling it free of the sheets and up to his face. Opening a bleary eye, he looked at it and grinned. Kaylee was the only girl he knew who would sleep with her tools. He found it oddly appealing. Dropping the wrench to the floor, he stretched and sat up.

He was in Kaylee's quarters, which should have been obvious the minute he'd woken up. Looking around her room, he scratched his chest and wondered why he couldn't remember the events that had led to his presence here. For that matter, why was he still fully clothed?

And where was Kaylee?

Had he done something—again—to offend her? Had he somehow hurt her? Forced her from her rooms, away from him? He must have, because otherwise she would have stayed with him.

He needed to find her and apologize. With a sigh, he headed toward the engine room, buttoning his shirt as he went and hoping she would forgive him.

If she didn't know better she'd think someone had sabotaged the engine room. Panels hung open, wires hanging loose—some even ripped from the wall and lying on the floor. When she'd first woken up and seen the damage she'd panicked, thinking Jubal Early had somehow returned. It wasn't until she'd sat up and realized she had fallen asleep holding a soldering iron that she'd realized she was the one who had hurt Serenity.

The worst part of it was she didn't remember doing it. She couldn't remember anything at all prior to dinnertime. She only hoped she could figure out what she'd done and get it fixed before the Cap'n or anyone else came looking for her.

"Kaylee?" Simon's tentative voice made her jump.

"Simon, hi!" she said, overly brightly. "What're you doin' here?"

"I wanted to apologize to you, for whatever I might have said or done to upset you…"

"Outside the normal?" she teased.

He nodded miserably. "I just hope, whatever it was, we can still be friends. I wouldn't want to hurt you, ever. Can we be friends, Kaylee?"

"Just friends?"

"Just friends," he echoed.

She frowned at him. "Well, sure…I guess. Friends. Ain't that just dandy."

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she turned back to the engine. "If that's all, I gotta get back to work. These parts ain’t going to put themselves back on."

"Oh, uh…of course," Simon agreed. "Do you…would you like me to stay and help you with anything? Hand you tools as you need them?"

Kaylee gritted her teeth, her back towards him. "No thank you," she replied coldly. "Think I can handle this on my own."

Inara knew the minute Mal woke up. From her position on the settee, she heard the indrawn hiss of his breath and his confused mutter as he slowly sat up. From underneath heavy lids she watched him, pretending the whole while that she was asleep when the truth was she hadn’t slept all night. Instead, she had stayed awake and listened to his heavy breathing. From what Simon had said, she knew Mal probably wouldn’t remember anything they had discussed last night. He wouldn’t even remember coming to her in the first place. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to—remembering on her own hurt enough.

When he approached her and reached out to touch her shoulder, she wanted to open her eyes and tell him everything he had said to her last night—demand to know if he had been telling her the truth. Instead she waited to see what he would do next, unable to get her mouth to move, not understanding why or how all of her years of training could fail her when she needed it the most.

She felt his hand leave her shoulder, listened as he turned from her and moved towards the door. When he paused there, she thought she would break. She didn’t know how she kept herself from crying until the door opened and he disappeared into the hall outside it.

"Renci de Fozu," Wash groaned, as he forced his crusted eyes open and looked blearily at the ceiling in his quarters. "What the hell happened?

His head felt like it had been beaten in with a hammer. "Zoe," he muttered when she nuzzled into him whimpering, "you sure we don't have a pet? I feel like a cat died in my mouth."

"No pets," she mumbled into his shoulder before pushing herself away from him with a sigh. "Where are we?"

"I think we're in our quarters, but I don't remember coming here." He tried to grin, but gave up when he realized how much it made his face hurt. "You obviously dragged me here for wild sex, you Amazon."

"Why is your jumpsuit hanging from the ceiling?"

Wash grinned at that—gingerly—and reached out and stroked Zoe's back. "I told you, you're an Amazon."

When she didn't reply, he sat up behind her and kissed her shoulder. "I can't blame you for wanting to get a piece of me. I am a prime piece of man-meat and…" his voice trailed off as he absorbed the state of their quarters. "Mal transporting wild animals again?"

"That ain't funny, baby." Zoe rose to her feet and stepped carefully over the clothes strewn all over the room. "Looks like someone ripped this place apart."

To the left of the bed, the small dresser they used had been overturned, the drawers ripped out and lying in the middle of the room. Zoe's one concession to vanity—a framed mirror—hung askew on the wall. Their shelves had been swiped clean. Wash slid from the bed to his knees and started crawling around on the floor. "Where are my dinosaurs?"

"Husband," Zoe replied calmly, "you've got bigger things to worry about right now."

"Really?" Wash snorted. "Like what?"

"Like who's flying."

" Da-xiang bao-zha-shi de la du-zi, Mal is going to kill us!!" Wash scrambled to his feet, reaching for his coveralls. "Help me find my underwear!"

Mal was the first one willing to stick his head over the edge, "I don’t like it one damn bit." He turned to face the others who had gathered around him in the gallery that morning. "And no one remembers a thing, huh?"

Book looked back almost meekly, one side of his face puffy and raw. "Wish I did, Captain. Wish I did."

"No one does," Simon offered. "River says she remembers some. I suppose it’s possible her meds could have countered the effects."

"I don’t like it," Mal said again.

"I tell you what," Wash said, limping over to the pot and sticking his face down in it, "I wish to god I did remember something. You should have seen our bunk when we woke up. I hurt in places I didn’t know a man could hurt."

"That’s ‘cause you probably been doin' it wrong the whole time, little man," Jayne said, scratching his behind as he walked into the galley. "I slept like a gorram angel."

"Sorry to have missed that," Book said to him.

Jayne looked the Shepherd over, "Nice shiner, preacher. You get that prayin’?"

"Oh I’m sure that’s it exactly," Book replied. "Mind if I check you knuckles?"

Jayne shrugged off the question and went straight for the pot. "Hell, who went and let it all burn up?"

"Someone must have left it simmering all night," Simon answered. "It’s nothing but charred material now."

Mal stared at Simon, "No way to look into what caused that? I have a hard time believing it was just protein messed us up like that."

"I barely have a medical facility down there, certainly not a crime lab."

Mal gave him the eye, "So how’d you know what to give us? I mean, when you trashed my cargo, seems like you had a strong intent on something."

Simon sighed. "River told me you had medicine before we ate, remember? And Anfredrin was the right thing to use to counter the effects. We were just lucky I guess."

"I don’t like it," Mal repeated.

"So I’ve noticed."

"Where’s your sister now?"

"Sleeping. Apparently she was up all night taking care of us."

"Well, I for one am just damn glad the autopilot worked," Wash said. "I mean we’re right on course still and nothing seems broken or damaged up there…for a change."

"Wish I could say the same for the engine," Zoe said stepping into the room. "Kaylee says she’ll have it all back together. We’re lucky she didn’t touch anything to shut down the main drive or we could have drifted into god knows what."

"Lucky she didn’t tear out the life support or open the containment field," Mal agreed testily, "Lucky the doc here just happened to have what he needed in the cargo. Lucky I didn’t…" He shook his head angrily. "Luck is not something we ever had and if we did, I assure you it’s all run out now. And it ain’t luck going to get us out of this deal either. If what the doc says is true, our Mr. Chou is going to be a might pissed that he’s not getting his stuff intact."

"Illegals?" Zoe asked.

"Bad ones," Simon offered.

"We’re going to have to give him something," Zoe said, "Half pay maybe. You saw that small weapons bunker he was broadcasting from—people like that don’t tend to be forgiving. Not sure what an arms dealer needs with drugs though."

"Other way around more than likely," Mal said. "Drug dealer with a heavy weapon fetish."

Wash moaned at that, "That’s not worse right? I mean tell me that’s not worse."

"It’s worse," Zoe told him.

Mal turned to Jayne who was poking the charred stew with his finger, "Fortunately—luckily that is—I think it might work out."

Jayne looked up to see them all staring at him, "What? You guys said it was ruined."

Mal patted the big man on his shoulder and then made his way toward the rear door, "I’m gonna check on Kaylee. Someone put that pot out the airlock before Jayne starts humping his guns again."

"I’M ON IT!" Book and Simon said simultaneously staring at each other.

Mal paused outside the open door to Inara’s shuttle stopping himself just short of barging into the ship like he always did. Instead he gathered his thoughts and rapped lightly on the bulkhead.

"It’s open," Inara called from inside.

Mal stepped in and made his way to where she was. He found her ripping all the sheets off the bed.

"Laundry day," she said seeing his look.

Mal wasn’t sure why but he felt a pang at hearing that, "Well, we’re almost at the rendezvous. I know this was your deal and all but—"

"Mal, look, I said I was sorry already. If I had any idea that my client on Churchill was mixed up in drug smuggling…I can assure you what he did will not go unnoticed by the Guild."

Mal smiled, "I feel sorry for him already. Honestly, I do. But I’m not worried about that. I know you wouldn’t have done anything on purpose."

Inara stopped with the bed and looked up, "Oh right…um… thanks. I wouldn’t you know. I know what your reputation means to you."

Mal noticed she looked upset, "Look, I just came by…I know none of us remembers a thing. It’s just that if you did remember something—"

"I really don’t. Not a thing," she said through what Mal could tell was a forced smile, "I wish I did though because I’d like to know who thought it was okay to fold me up on the settee while you got to spread out on the bed."

Mal listened to that last word trail off a bit as she said it, "Well, I’m a big man. And the Captain. I’m sure it was your own sense of duty to let me do that."

"It doesn’t explain why you were here though, does it?" Inara asked, obviously trying to break his ego back down to size.

"Nope," Mal said turning to leave, "But I guess we’re just going to have to live with that mystery for now."

"Mal?" Inara called to him as he was pushing through the curtains.

"Yeah?"

"I just want you to know that you’re…well, that you should be proud. I mean all these people depend on you and you always get us through these situations. You should never worry about not being good enough."

Mal felt the bottom go out of his gut; he turned his head but kept his body firmly planted toward the door, "Inara-"

"Don’t get all emotional on me," she said balling up the sheets and tossing them into the corner, "You looked tired and I know things haven’t been going well for a long time now. I just thought you should know that I do respect you—most of the time anyway. And that I appreciate all you’ve done for me."

"That maybe sounds like a goodbye speech."

"No," she said looking up at him, "It’s not."

Mal nodded, "I have to check on Kaylee now."

"You should."

Liam Chou’s docking bay smelled like burned rubber and oil. All the weapons on all the walls and in the racks bore a highly polished sheen, more like trophies than protection. When they had stepped off the shuttle with what remained of the cargo, Mal had scanned the entire bay for signs of heavier weapons and he knew Chou was going to go for the deal.

Now, as they left him in the bay holding Jayne’s missile, smiling to all the world as if he’d just been handed the keys to the promised land, Mal wondered if he shouldn’t have asked for more than just full pay. He also wondered if maybe arming a drug smuggler with an air-to-air weapon had been the most prudent of choices.

"You know, whoever Jayne got that thing from isn’t likely to stop coming after us anytime soon," Zoe said, keeping up with Mal’s quick strides.

"Well if they find us I bet they’ll be even worse off after standing in that line of others waiting to do the same."

"Getting paid is a nice change of pace though," Zoe said smiling.

"Don’t know why we had to go and get rid of Gretchen," Jayne scowled. "Not like I was the one went and busted up Chou’s stuff."

"You know, maybe if you’d stop naming all your weapons after women, you’d stop wanting to have relations with them," Zoe said reaching the shuttle first and ducking through the door before Jayne could reply.

"I guess you noticed ain’t none of them named Zoe," Jayne said. "And if I find out who stole into my bunk with that damn capture they’re gonna be the next thing we make stew out of."

Mal gave a cursory check to the shuttle and then followed them inside. He moved into the pilot’s seat and started up the engines, pulling away slowly when they geared up enough thrust. He banked sharply to the right and gave the throttle a push. When Serenity appeared in the view this time, he took sharp notice that his first rush of emotion was not for his ship. He cursed lightly under his breath and spent the rest of the trip pained by the ghost of things he could not remember.

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Title: Mixed Nuts
Writers: Michael A. Haines & Michelle Makariak
Executive Producers: Michelle Makariak (Michmak)
& Jen Hook (Mistress Shiny)
Special Edits: Special Hellion & Allan J. Sanders
Art: Aurora
Head of Animation: TaeRowyn
Proofreaders: TaeRowyn
Dialect Editor: Sophie Richard