Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss Whedon. I only play with them because I love them.

THE WEDJAT EYE: PT 4

On the way back in his bunk Mal reflected on his spectacular lack of success in trying to brush up on old skills and acquire new ones. He blamed his crew. They still acknowledged his authority, they didn't always take him seriously. They knew him too well, saw his strengths and weaknesses. Leant on the former and smiled at the latter.

Book was walking towards him, heading to the commons room. “Hear you've been very busy, Captain,” he said conversationally, with maybe a hint of mirth twitching the corners of his mouth. “Trying to be some kind of superman.”

“Well, somebody's gotta take up the slack,” Mal said bitterly. “Not all of us got your faith in the Lord.”

“No,” Book agreed. “But maybe it's time for a little faith in the people around you. You can't take it all on your shoulders, son. They're good people, strong people. Responsibility won't break them. And if they fall, it won't be your fault. I know you'll do all you can to help them back up. Why not let them help you too?”

*********************

Mal was shaving when Zoe knocked at his door. “Come in,” he said, annoyed at the interruption but aware that Zoe wouldn't disturb him unless it was absolutely necessary.

“What now?” he demanded as she stood in front of him, a mite less serene-looking than usual.

“I'm here on behalf of the crew, sir,” she began awkwardly. Being their spokesman wasn't really a role she had ever envisaged for herself. But, truth be told, she was here as much for Mal's sake as for theirs.

A black scowl told her exactly what he thought of her efforts. “So, they've formed a union, have they?” he sneered. “What they want? More coin? More leave? Fancy soap? I ain't got time for this fei hua, Zoe.”

“No, sir,” she said evenly. “They're worried about you.” A pause. “I'm worried about you.”

Mal wiped the foam from his face with a towe