Mal stood still, mouth open, shaking his head and wondering what had just happened. There they were, talking as usual, and she’d asked a question, he’d answered, and suddenly he was outside the bunk, no boots, and being told … no, shouted at … that he wasn't required for the rest of the night. Or ever. Then she’d thrown a pillow and blanket up to him and slammed the hatch shut.

The sound was still ringing through Serenity.

His head still vibrating, he carried the bed accoutrements down the stairs towards the common area, playing back the words, the intonations, and trying to make some kinda sense of it. He’d reached the deck by the infirmary and still hadn’t when he noticed he wasn't alone.

“You too?” Jayne said, plumping the pillow on the old sofa.

“River toss you out?” Mal asked.

“Yeah.”

“Know why?”

“Not a clue.”

“Me neither.” Mal dropped into the chair. “You laid your claim to the couch?”

“I have.” Jayne shook out the blanket and tucked it in along the back of the cushions. “Why, you considering throwing your captainy weight around and tryin’ to make me give it up?”

“No, no,” Mal said quickly, as if he hadn’t been thinking that at all. “Just wondering.”

“Not that I'm gonna get much sleep tonight,” Jayne admitted. “Damn thing’s got more lumps’n your gravy.”

“I'm captain,” Mal pointed out. “As such I never said my cooking was any good.”

“Shoulda hired a cook.”

“Yeah. Instead of a mercenary,” he added pointedly.

“Then you’d be dead and I’d be working for seven percent.” Jayne sat down. “You sure you ain't got no idea why you’ve been thrown out of your conjugal nest?”

“Jayne, I told you. Stop reading dictionaries. And no, I don’t. I can’t even remember what we were talking about, let alone how it got to be a fight.”

“Ah.” The big man nodded. “No. 5.”

“What?”

“No. 5.”

Mal shook his head. “No. Still lost me.”

Jayne tugged a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over. “Here.”

Mal looked at it suspiciously. “What’