“Mornin’ Wash,” Mal said, a little too cheerfully. “You ain’t plannin’ on flyin’ us into no asteroid belts or moons or nothin’ today, are ya?”

Wash glared at him. “That stopped being funny weeks ago. I’m not going to kill myself, I’m not going to kill everybody. I might snap and kill you, though,” he added. Wash knew that if Simon didn’t think he was stable, he’d still be in the infirmary, and if Mal really thought he was a danger to the crew or himself, he wouldn’t be at the helm. “Why are you so cheerful, anyway?”

Mal grinned. “I ain’t cheerful.”

Wash raised an eyebrow; it was a gesture he’d picked up from Zoe that more or less meant, ‘you’re lying,’ or ‘you’re an idiot.’ “Mal, if you smile any wider, the top of your head is gonna just fall off.”

“Maybe I am a little,” Mal conceded. “No reason not to be; my boat’s in the sky, my crew’s happy, got food in my belly… ‘Nara’s retirin’-”

“Aha!” Wash said, jabbing Mal in the chest with his index finger. “I knew something was going on!”

“Nothin’s goin’ on,” Mal said. “Just a statement of fact. ‘Nara’s retirin’ from the guild is all. Got some harebrained notion to feed the hungry or clothe the nekkid or somesuch with her pension money.”

Wash nodded, only half-listening. He could feel Mal staring at him with that gorram foolish grin. Wash pretended to ignore him for a while, until it became clear he wasn’t going anywhere. “Would you stop that?” Wash shuddered. “Mal, you’re creeping me out with this… giddyness.”

“Mal Reynolds don’t do giddy,” Mal beamed. “Wash, I don’t think you’re hearin’ me. Said ‘Nara’s retirin.’”

“I got it, Mal. I’m happy for you. Really. But forgive me for not leaping out of my seat in unrestrained glee, okay? It’s not exactly easy for me to watch the whole crew pair off into neat little happy couples when my wife is dead,” Wash snapped. “For Christ’s sake, Mal, did you really think I needed to hear this today?”

Mal’s smile faded while his mind searched for the significance of the date. “Today? Wash… I-”

“If anyone b