“Mal?”

“Uh huh?” Serenity’s captain straightened from where he was moving crates in the cargo bay. “What can I do for you, doctor?”

Simon stepped down from the doorway to the common area. “Can I … could we speak?”

“Not Freya, is it?” Mal asked, tensing, looking past the young man towards the infirmary.

“No, no, she’s fine. In fact, you can maybe take her back to her … your bunk in the next day or two. Although probably the guest quarters would be better. Less ladders.”

“Yeah. Good. Shiny.” Mal relaxed somewhat. “So, what do you want to talk to me about?”

“Everything.”

Mal knew this had been coming, but that still didn’t make it any easier. “Everything?” he repeated, making a joke of it. “That’ll take a bit more time than our allotted three score and ten, don’t you think?”

“I've been speaking with Inara.” The young man was not to be sidetracked.

“Yeah. Figure everyone on board knows that by now.”

“She’s been helping me see … what I did.”

“What you did is save Freya’s life. And Hank’s, although as he don’t sleep in my bed that ain’t exactly as dear to me.”

“I'm serious, Mal.”

Mal sighed. “Yeah, I know. And I apologise for not taking it that way.” He sat down on one of the crates and nodded towards another. “Better take the weight off your feet if we’re gonna have that kind of conversation.”

“I wouldn’t have let her die,” Simon said, sitting down carefully.

“I know that.”

“Yet you felt the need to threaten me.”

Mal looked at the young man, so stiff and formal, even now. “It weren't so much a threat. More a … an encouragement.”

“You said you’d finish what Lon started.”

Mal could still feel the blood on his hands. “I was reminding you, is all.”

“And if … if she had died?”

Mal shook his head. “She didn’t. You saved her life.”

“If I hadn’t?” Simon insisted. “Would you have killed me?”

Mal looked at him for a moment, his blue eyes thoughtful. “Can’t say, doctor. I'm really hoping we never find out, but right now … I can’t say.