The dining room was dark except for the dim glow of the lamp in the middle of the table and those few lights kept on above the cabinets. Kaylee’s green parasol-tree was the only other thing sitting there. Mingled voices echoed up through the aft stairway. Then Wash’s voice cut through the rest.

“Wuh de tyen, ah! Who hung a grenade on the tree?”

Zoe was carrying a heavily loaded tray with glasses and a pitcher down to the lounge outside the infirmary. Almost at the bottom of the stairs, she stopped to shake her head after her husband’s words. “Jayne?”

“What? It’s symbolic.”

The lounge wasn’t a large space to begin with. Now mostly filled by the new tree and the rest by full of passengers and crew, it was cozy in the extreme.

“Symbolic? Of what? Sudden death?” Wash asked.

Simon leaned in close to Kaylee, who was trying hard to place her one strand of lights to the best effect on the larger tree. “I suppose it’s lucky you thought to put the tree down here so we’re conveniently near the infirmary.”

The smile spread across Kaylee’s face like sunrise. “Aw, you made a joke!”

“It’s not funny,” River stated, popping up from behind them.

“Mei mei….” Simon turned but she was already gone, jumping with feline grace onto the arm of a chair to place another origami swan near the top of the tree.

“Pineapples.” Jayne said. Exasperation showed clearly on his face when no one responded. “Ain’t anyone here a history buff besides me? Grenades’re lots of the time compared to pineapples. Pineapples was always traditional symbols of welcome on Earth-That-Was. It’s a way of saying, ‘welcome’ to the baby Jesus.”

“Ohhhh. Well then.” Wash’s whole body relaxed for a beat, then snapped back to rigid. “Take it off the tree.”

They stood toe to toe, frowns on both of their faces, Jayne’s chin thrust out in a pout and making him look like more of a Neanderthal than usual. Zoe made her way over, carefully, the rising smell of hot spiced red wine intoxicatingly nostalgic. The light in her eyes pr