“No.”

“Mal –“

“I said no.”

“You need to –“

“No.”

It had been this way for almost a week. Half-hearted arguments, until Freya walked away or Mal did, each one not wanting to give an inch. It made for an uncomfortable time on board, even during the job on Verbena. At least no-one got shot this time.

In the end Freya enlisted Simon’s help.

“No.”

“Mal, this isn’t doing her any good.”

“Then she should stop asking.”

“Why not just say yes?”

“No.” His mouth was set, stubbornness making his lips ugly.

Zoe tried.

“No.”

“Sir, much as you know I trust you, in this case I think you’re wrong.”

“Entitled to your opinion.”

“Sir –“

“No.”

Finally Freya turned to River.

“No.”

“Need to,” the young psychic said. “Need to exorcise your demons. Your guilt. Leaving home, leaving family, never coming back.”

“I intended to, albatross,” Mal put in. “Never meant to stay away.”

“Circumstances conspired against you,” she agreed. “But it’s time to let go.”

“Might as well listen to her,” Jayne put in from the doorway. “She’s got one of her crazy days on, and you ain't gonna get no peace ‘til you do. Worse’n Frey.” He shrugged. “Or I could just beat ya up and make that wimp of a man turn us around anyway.”

Mal glared at the pair of them, then threw his hands up. “All right! Fine! Tell Hank to lay in a course for Shadow.” He gave them one last look then stomped out of the galley towards the engine room, but taking the stairs before he got to where Kaylee was beaming at him.

They could hear him muttering all the way down, and the odd word and phrase filtered up. “… my gorram ship … keelhaul … don’t need … wife telling me …”

River smiled widely, and Jayne snuck his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

That night, though, Mal slept in his bunk, not with his wife, swearing the next morning that he’d only meant to put his head down for a moment before coming back to her.

She knew differently, and didn’t speak to him all the next day.

“Frey.” H