“Why ain’t you in bed, River?”

She looked up from where she was weeding her garden to see Mal standing in the doorway.

“Not sleepy.”

He shook his head. “All that’s been going on, I’d’a thought you’d be dead to the world right now.”

“ You’re not.”

“No, well, that’s because I’m captain.”

“Captains need their sleep too. To make decisions. Get jobs. Pay the crew.”

“You got something you want to buy?”

“Something pretty to wear for when I get back to Jayne.”

“I don’t think I want to know anything more about that.”

“A dress,” she explained, giving him a version of her ‘boob’ look.

“Oh. Right. And there’ll be a job.” Mal crossed his arms. “Got a lot of feelers out. Something’s gonna come up.”

“It will. Tomorrow.”

“You can see that?”

She nodded. “Still couldn’t sleep.”

“You shoulda tried.”

“Don’t mean me. Mean you.” She pointed at his shirt hanging outside his pants, his suspenders around his hips. “You tried. Didn’t.”

He chuckled. “Guess maybe I didn’t.” He sighed. “Feels like part of me’s missing, albatross.”

“You’ll be back with her soon.”

“This how you feel?”

River nodded. “Torn, uprooted, bereft, abandoned …”

“He ain’t abandoned you,” Mal pointed out.

“Nor she you.”

He smiled grudgingly. “Pair, ain’t we?”

“I miss him.” She spoke simply, running her fingers thought the fragile soil.

“Yeah.”

“You miss Jayne?” She turned enormous eyes on him in mock horror.

“Well, yeah, kinda, but not in that way …” He knew he was being wound up, and grinned, but it faltered with his next words. “Bed’s empty. So’s the nursery. Feels like it did before, when I didn’t have her.”

“When you didn’t realise you had,” she gently corrected him.

“Still feels wrong.”

“You are a husband and a father. Things are very different.” She removed an errant weed, trying vainly to hold on and procreate.

“I know.” He watched her a moment, then said, “I miss her, River. Her laugh, her voice, her touch … can’t sleep at night without