“Don’t you dare come near me!” Freya called, stopping Mal in his tracks on the middle rung of the ladder.

“Why? What’ve I done?”

“Not sure yet,” Freya said, then threw up loudly into the bucket she was holding on her lap. “ Gao yang jong duh goo yang ,” she added, grabbing a tissue and wiping at her mouth.

“Honey?” Mal moved down another rung. “You okay?”

“Do I look okay?” she asked, sitting up in the bunk, one of Mal’s flannel shirts done up to her neck. He couldn’t see what she was wearing on the bottom half as the blanket was tucked securely around her waist. More than one blanket, in fact.

“Is this a trick question?” he asked, stepping down onto the floor and moving towards her.

“I've got some kind of stomach flu!” she said loudly.

He stopped. “I’m away for three days and you get sick?”

“I told you, it’s a bug.” She sniffed. “Ask Simon. He told me. Said my temperature was up. Seemed pretty impressed it was so high without me actually being unconscious.” She covered her mouth again. “Gorramit,” she muttered, pulling the bucket back towards her, but this time she was able to fight it back.

“And you think I gave it to you?” Mal asked.

“Did I say that? Sorry, but did I actually say that?” Freya rubbed a hand across her red eyes. “Only I’m beginning to think I might be hallucinating.”

“No, not quite. But you told me not to come near you,” Mal explained.

“Oh. No, right. I meant so you don’t catch it.” She lay back, closing her eyes. “It’s gos se , believe me. I ache everywhere, too.” She shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position, then sat up. “And I can’t sleep, ‘cos I wake up feeling like I'm drowning.”

Mal winced slightly. “Thanks for that,” he said. “Little bit too much information.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be there for me!” she said, wiping her forehead. “I know I look like something Kaylee scrapes out of the coil, but it ain't permanent.”

“You told me to go away.”

“I didn’t mean it.” She sighed, only this tim