Disclaimers: Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy own all characters. I make no profit, but feedback is a wonderful form of payment.

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"First, I'm going to bathe you in this hot fudge. Then, I'm going to smother you in whipped cream. Finally, the best part. I'm going to place this ch…er…peach morsel on top of you and pretend it is a cherry."

"Wash, what are you doing?"

Wash had taken a spoonful of gooey chocolate from the bowl beside him; but the voice startled him, and he dropped it on top of one of his dinosaurs instead. Looking back at his wife, he grinned foolishly. "I was going to cover my homemade ice cream with some homemade hot fudge, but instead, I decided bathing T-Rex in it made him look even more charming and menacing than before. What do you think?" he asked, holding up his chocolate-coated dinosaur.

"I think," Zoë began, "you better clean that up before Kaylee or Book see that you wasted a spoonful of their hard work on a plastic reptile." Her voice was flat and serious, but then a tiny glimmer flickered in her eye and a barely there smile emerged. Before Wash could complete his pouting face, she lowered her voice and ordered, "I think you should have Mal take the bridge so that we can share your ice cream fantasy in our bunk. Now!"

The pilot immediately radioed Mal and gathered the tray, which held his dish of ice cream, bowls of hot fudge, fluffy whipped cream, and rationing of fruit cocktail, minus the ever-elusive cherry, which he figured Kaylee always consumed, and quickly followed Zoë down the hall to their bunk.

By the time Mal got to the bridge, Wash and Zoë had disappeared, leaving a dripping, sticky dinosaur sitting by the controls. "Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean-jan," he grumbled, staring wide-eyed at the soiled toy as he sat down in the pilot's seat. "You need a bath, Mr. T-Rex, but I sure the hell ain't gonna gorram give ya one." He swiveled around in the chair and looked out into the great black.

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Translation: Oh, juh jen