“I need your advice.” Simon stepped carefully down the stairs to the floor of the cargo bay, holding onto the handrail and easing his leg as much as possible. Mal and Hank were standing by the rock-filled containers and discussing if there was any way they could increase their speed without tossing it out of the airlock, while Jayne was lifting weights, his rhythmical movements almost hypnotic, echoed by Bethie on her little bench, and Ethan on his. This last was a new addition to the bay, and it still made the crew smile to see the three of them working out together.

When Jayne had unveiled it, to the boy’s wonder and delight, Mal had turned slightly to Zoe, his lips barely moving. “I see a day coming when there’s a whole row of these things, and each of the kids has their own.”

“I’ll have the capture ready, sir.”

This time, though, he merely asked, “Whose advice?”

“Everyone’s. Anyone’s.” Simon glanced down at the baby in the sling across his chest. “I don’t know what to do about Noah’s sweater.”

Jayne sat up, picking up a towel. “What about it? It works, don’t it?” He wiped his face and neck.

Bethie and Ethan did the same, following their Uncle exactly.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t. And with Kaylee gone I wouldn’t be able to get any work done without it. But ...”

Mal perched on a wooden crate. “But what, doc?”

“Well, we’ve been using it for a little while now, and it’s ... well ...” Simon looked a little abashed.

Jayne got to his feet and ambled over. He leaned down and took a deep sniff. “Oh, I get yah. It’s pretty ripe.” His brow creased. “Unless that’s –”

“He’s just been changed.”

“You sure?”

“I'm sure.”

“Only he’s kinda –”

“It’s the sweater!”

The big man shrugged. “Then I’m seeing your problem.”

Hank chuckled. “This from the man who never used to willingly change his underwear.”

Jayne tossed him a glance. “Don’t hardly wear any.”

The pilot grimaced. “Please. Way, way too much information.”

“And you know Zoe ain’t here to defend