If there is one thing that Mal hates, it's carelessness on jobs. So on returning to Serenity after delivering their most recent load, he is more than a little irritated to find they've somehow missed a bag--there it sits innocently in the corner of the hold, exactly where he now remembers Jayne flinging it down a week ago.

He glares at it unhappily. They haven't the time to turn around and ride back into town. Unlike their usual schedule of one job, a whole lot of waiting, a whole lot more waiting, finally another job--for the first time in months they have not one but three clients lined up as soon as they got off this moon. As much as he'd like to, Mal simply has no time to go running back. For now, they will just have to hold onto it.

He wanders over, picks up the bag and peers inside. Dolls. A platoon of wooden soldiers. Three sets of jacks. More dolls. All brand new. Wonderful, he thinks with a sigh. Something to entertain the troops at last.

Nose still in the bag, he steps through the lower hatchway and is walking past the infirmary and up to the second floor, when he quite literally bumps into River. She is sitting on the lowest step, head resting on her knees, and Mal, still distracted by the bag and muttering to himself, only just avoids knocking her over.

"Ai ya!" With a yelp he jumps back, the bag falling out of his grasp and spilling its contents unceremoniously at River's feet. Grunting slightly, he grasps onto the railing in an inelegant attempt to stay upright.

"You wanna explain--" Mal puffs slightly, catching his breath, "--the doorstop impression?" He stares at her in wide-eyed exasperation. "'Cause you're blockin' traffic, darlin'. An' if you hadn't already noticed, I like traffic flowin' smooth on my boat."

To illustrate this he waves an arm. But she neither answers nor looks up. She is bent forward at an awkward angle, hair all down her face, and Mal hesitates, frowning for a moment. There is a stillness about her that strikes him