Jayne hunkered down on the bridge underneath the pilot’s chair, rummaging through the box of Wash’s dinosaur toys that Mal had left there in honor of the fallen crewmember.

He didn’t exactly know why he was doing it; in fact he had no clue whatsoever as to what drove him with alarming regularity to walk to the bridge, make sure no one was looking or heading his way, and go through the bin in a now futile effort to find something that was missing. So why the hell am I doin’ this? Jayne pondered for what seemed to be the fortieth time. A synapse fired, and the search continued.

Gotta find it, or it won’t make sense. He kept going through the box, but what he was looking for didn’t seem to be there.

After a few more minutes of useless searching, he raised his head out from under the pilot’s seat, a look of consternation clear on his face.

“Where the ta ma’s the ruttin’ dilophosaurus?” he asked to no one in particular.

The bridge was silent in its reply. It always was when he asked the question. He stood up, kicked the box back into its hiding place, and walked back down the steps to the main hallway. He jammed his left hand into the pocket of his cargo pants, felt around, and retrieved what he was looking for.

It was an ivory disc, bound on one side with a length of red silk cording in an intricate Chinese knot. He looked at it a moment, remembering when he’d found the item.

It had been the day of the Reaver battle on Miranda, when Wash had somehow miraculously landed Serenity, only to die, impaled by a spear launched through the ship’s vuescreen.

Jayne had the duty of retrieving Wash’s body by virtue of being the one who was the least injured. Mal was a mass of contusions and a broken rib, while Zoe was being sutured up from a Reaver sword wound on her back that had almost cleaved her spine in two. Kaylee was busy supervising the repairs, and Simon was recovering from being shot. As he eased the body of Zoe’s husband off the spear, taking care to not inflict any more damage