“You intend sitting up all night?” Mal asked as he stepped down into the galley from the direction of the engine room.

Jethro was sitting at the table, a glass of water in front of him, and he looked up. “I was just thinking, Captain.”

“’Bout what?”

“You. This crew. And why I’m still here.”

Mal, in the act of pouring a last cup of coffee, looked over in surprise. “Don’t you want to be?” he asked.

“What I want seems to be irrelevant at this time.”

Mal gestured with his tin mug. “You know, for a man who claims to come from Eos, you sure talk like you were bred closer to the Core.” He came round and sat opposite. “Anything you feel like telling me.”

Jethro gazed at him, noting only honest interest in those blue eyes. “I could say it was the Abbey insisted I talk this way.”

“You could,” Mal agreed. “’Cepting I’ve known a few Preachers in my time and none of ‘em talked quite like you.” He sipped his coffee. “So what’s the truth?”

“The truth?” Jethro smiled. “Just how long were you planning on staying awake?”

Mal smiled back. “You know, you do remind me of a man I knew once. Sat right there in that chair and tried to talk philosophy to me.”

“What happened?”

“He died.”

Jethro wondered at the bleakness that crossed the older man’s features. “Did you kill him?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He glanced down into his water. “Captain, I may not be a full Shepherd, but if you’d like me to hear your confession I’d -” He raised his head again at Mal’s unexpected bark of laughter.

“Just how long’ve you got, Preacher?” Mal said, sitting back. “I’ve kinda packed a whole lot of sinning into my life.”

“Then perhaps another time, Captain.”

“Perhaps.“ Mal took another mouthful of coffee, tasting the bitterness of a too-long brewed beverage. He pushed the mug away. “You sly?” he asked.

Jethro felt his face colour. “No. No, I’m not.”

“Just wondering. Wouldn’t be the first time a man took to the cloth ‘cause he didn’t like women.”

“I like … I’m not sly,”