Please contact me if you would like to archive this fanfic.

Firefly is the sole property of all the wonderful people who created it. I don't own it. Just write silly stuff based on it.

Hope you enjoy.

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“So,” Zoe drawled as she slid into the seat Mal had vacated. She watched him calmly and began to eat. Wash sighed and sank into a seat across from her. She flicked her eyes at Mal’s bare chest and back up again. He hastily began buttoning his shirt.

“Yeah?” he said defensivly.

A slim brow arched delicately in mild amusment. “That’s what I’d like to know. What was that all about?” She looked in the direction River had gone with curiosity. Jayne snorted and opened his mouth to reply, but two equally murderous looks set him back a step. “Captn’s gettin’apieceof..,” he said in a unintelligible grumble.

“Jayne,” Wash said cheerfully. “Help me go move the cargo.” Wash stood and motioned for the lugheaded idiot to follow. He gave Zoe the “you’ll tell me everything later” look and headed for the door.

“But I wanna see Zoe tear the Capt…” Jayne protested. Mal shot the other man a dark look, his jaw tightening with irritation. More then likely because Mal knew that Zoe wouldn't let his disapperance rest.

“Jayne go help Wash with the cargo,” Mal said sternly.

Jayne rose grumbling from his seat, “Never get ta see the Capt’ get his hinny hole toasted,” he huffed and reluctantly followed Wash from the galley.

“You gonna toast my hinny hole?” Mal asked warily with a hint of his usual rougish smile.

Zoe shook her head. “Nope. So what was that all about,” Zoe repeated again.

Mal shrugged his shoulders, shifted restlessly, and then settled on crossing his arms. “What was what,” he returned with a deadpanned expression.

"Hm." Zoe continued to eat, letting an uncomfortable silence start to stretch. Mal tucked his shirt in with much grunting and swearing and turned to leave.

“Where’d you go?” Zoe said.

Mal stopped and turned back. “Out.”

“Out where,” she asked.