“Hey, doc.”

“What?”

“That ain't very polite.”

“I’m busy, Jayne. What is it?”

“You don’t look busy.”

“I am.”

“You’re just writing.”

“That’s what I’m busy at.”

“Only most folks I know don’t write for fun.”

“Really.”

“Or write much at all.”

“Fancy.”

“Guess they’ve got other things on their mind.”

“And what’s on yours?”

“Huh?”

“On your mind, Jayne.”

“Oh. Yeah. Your sis.”

“Have you been annoying River again?”

“Me?”

“Don't try the innocent look, Jayne. It doesn’t work.”

“That hurts my feelings.”

“You have feelings?”

“Yeah. Least sometimes.”

“Dear Buddha, the leer is worse. Go back to the innocent. And what about River?”

“She’s not ... more crazy than usual?”

“Not particularly. In fact the medication I have her on seems quite effective. Of course the results may not last, but there are some detrotriamine derivatives I can try combining with ... No, Jayne. My sister is not more crazy than usual.”

“Oh. Shiny.”

“Um, Jayne?”

“Yeah?”

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you asking.”

“Nothing.”

“Jayne.”

“No reason.”

“I could ask Mal to order you to tell me.”

“There ain’t nothing to tell. I'm only checking. Seeing as she went after me with a butcher’s knife that time.”

“Well, you got your own back, didn’t you? You tried to sell us.”

“Uh ...”

“So you’re planning on cleaning your guns on the kitchen table again? Lovely.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“What?”

“Never mind.”

“Jayne –”

“Thanks, doc. You can get back to your pansy ass writing again.”

“I'm not a ... Oh, go away.”

Jayne took his advice and ambled out of the infirmary, heading back to his bunk.

For a moment Simon felt a vague sense of unease trickle down his spine, but he shook it off. Jayne was obviously going to do ... whatever it was he did for hours on end – and that was better out of sight and out of mind – while River was taking a nap in her quarters. Nothing to worry about. Then he noticed a spelling mistake in h