“Jayne,” Kaylee asked, incredulous, “What are you doin’?

“What’s it look like?” Jayne shot back, not even glancing at her.

It looked like he was scrubbing the kitchen table. It looked like he was scraping a spot of dried food or something with his fingernail, trying to get it to come off.

Kaylee had never seen anything so strange, and that was saying a lot. She watched him in silence, completely bewildered.

“There,” Jayne said with satisfaction, giving the now-shining wood a final swipe with the rag in his hand. “Ain’t that better?”

Kaylee was about to agree – she didn’t know what else to do – when Jayne reached down, picked up the duffel bag at his feet, and began tossing his grimy weapons on the tabletop.

“Jayne!” Kaylee yelped, and he jumped a little bit. “You just spent all that time gettin’ the table clean!”

He stared at her. “Well, yeah,” he replied. “It was filthy! You think I’m gonna clean my guns on a dirty table like that?”