“What the tyen shiao duh have you two been doing?” Simon asked, his jaw dropping at the sight of Mal carrying his wife through the door, Inara hovering in the background. Zoe stood up from the stool next to River.

“Ain't me, doc,” Mal said, sitting her down on the counter. “Frey managed to fall over all by her lonesome, and neglected to tell anyone.”

“It’s nothing,” Freya insisted, then hissed as her knee bent.

“Nothing. Right.” Mal stepped back so the young man could take a look.

“And I wasn’t on my own. Hank was there.”

“And he didn’t say?” Mal’s lips thinned. “Him and me are due a little chat.”

“We need to get those pants off you,” Simon said, peering as best he could through the tear in the fabric.

“Um, I'm … not exactly wearing anything underneath,” Freya admitted.

“You want me to leave?” Zoe asked, trying not to smile.

“How come?” Mal demanded to know. “You got enough of those nether-thingies to last you a lifetime.”

“Maybe not as long as that. And I haven’t exactly been able to do any laundry for a while,” Freya said, slightly shamefaced.

“Why didn’t you say?”

“It wasn't … I mean, there were other things going on.”

He glared at her. “And you couldn’t ask one of the other women on board to lend you some?”

“Mal, you don’t do that!” his wife said, almost shocked.

“Why not?”

“Would you ask Simon if you could borrow a pair of his?” Freya glanced at the young man, who just stared stoically back at her.

Mal opened then closed his mouth. “Well, okay. Point taken. But all it means is you’re just gonna have to be embarrassed.” He undid the buttons at the top of her pants.

Freya put her hands down to stop him. “Zoe …”

The first mate let the grin show. “I could do with a cup of coffee.” She walked out of the infirmary, collecting Inara on the way.

“Since when were you shy?” Mal asked, his hands either side of Freya’s thighs.

“Since I got the new scars.” Her head went up defiantly, glaring into his blue eyes.

“Still you, thoug