A/N: This story takes place post-series and pre-movie, after Inara has left, but before Book leaves Serenity.

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"And what makes you so gorram sure I'd choose you?"

Now, as Mal Reynolds was going through the incidents of the day in his mind, pondering everything that had taken place, it seemed to him that those words had been what started it all. He hadn't really meant it, they were just words, brought on by irritation and lack of sleep, like most of his unkind words, come to think of it.

The mission had been supposed to be easy, but wasn't it always? It was the same ol' procedure: They were on New Lafayette (the first moon of Three Hills) to pick up some hidden contraband (he had no idea what), move out without the locals (or anyone else for that matter) noticing and deliver it on Aphrodite (preferably yesterday). Easypeasy.

Then one of the Tams had done something to irritate Jayne, or maybe both, or maybe vice versa. Mal didn't really know, nor did he care to. Anyway, there had been yelling, some mild violence had ensued, with the blade of a knife somehow ending up in the infirmary wall, and Mal – only wanting a clear headed crew and the job to run smoothly for once – had told everyone in crystal clear Chinese to shut the hell up.

Of course Jayne had to push it. He always did. And if Mal had had a good day, he might have let it slip. But this was not a good day. He'd dreamt about Inara again, which happened more often than he liked these days, and that always seemed to worsen his melancholy and leave him a little snappy. So when Jayne had buzzed on with his usual tirade about leaving the fugitives (etcetera, etcetera) he had told him (in a rather loud voice) to stow it.

Jayne only looked at him for a moment and then said, in an icy cold way, "One of these days, Mal, you might gonna have to choose."

And then Mal had said it. He'd stuck his face close to Jayne's and hissed the words through clenched teeth. "What makes you so gorram