The stove had blown out the day before. Nothing big, but it was going to take stopping over to buy a part before he could heat his coffee again.

Captain Malcolm Reynolds was just filling his mug with cold leftovers when he noticed the 2 bottles of engine-produced wine sitting on the table. Empty. The last time that happened, Jayne had done some type of interpretive dance on the cargo bay catwalk, minus his pants, and using that gorram rainstick as a prop. Mal was desperately hoping there was not a repeat performance, when he heard some low giggling from the engine room, followed by a coarse song usually only sung in rougher Independent bars.

Mal was usually only accepting of one person ever being with Serenity's heart - and last he saw of Kaylee, she was down in the infirmary making doe-eyes at Simon, the ship's doctor. While she was prone to bouts of giggles, she was decidedly not given to ribald space chanties, especially sung in a man's voice.

"Sir, do you hear singin'?" Zoe, Mal's first mate, crept into the galley, listening intently. "I seem to have lost my husband, and now I'm thinkin'..."

Setting his mug down, Mal turned down the hall toward the rear of the ship, knowing he wasn't going to like this. Zoe followed. They made it to the door right as the song ended, and immediately knew that this would be one of those headache-inducing situations.

Jayne sat on the floor to the left of the entryway, painstakingly cutting strips of duct tape with his knife while blubbering to the other two occupants of the room. "I jes hafta say, y'all is the best ruttin' group o' crew a guy could have!" Jayne sniffed and wiped his eyes a bit. "I love you guys!" He stopped talking long enough to focus on his work, as sharp knives combined with drunkenness rarely worked in his favor.

"Careful, m'wife might hear ya!", Wash, seated against the engine behind Jayne, whispered loudly. "An' she says nobody can love me but her." Wash weaved a

bit, nearly dropping the small bundle of foil he wa