“I don’t know where these came from,” Wash said practically pushing the jar back into Zoë’s hands.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Mal asked stepping closer and leaning down into his face.

“What do you want me to say Mal? I don’t know, really. All I know is the crate I saw wasn’t filled with that.”

“How am I suppose to believe that? How am I suppose to believe anything you say anymore?”

“Why would I make this up? Mal, what could I possibly have to gain from this?”

Mal stepped back but just kept staring at him. Wash turned silently to Zoë for support. With one look he could tell he wasn’t going to get any.

“All I can ask is that you trust me Mal. I’ve never lied to you before. I have no reason too.”

Mal took a few steps towards him again, his eyes gone cold.

“Then why didn’t you tell me you were from Demeter?”

Wash hadn’t expected that, but he didn’t let him faze him.

“To be fair Mal, you never asked.”

Mal stopped, started to speak, stopped again, gave up and left the room altogether to angry to continue.

The quiet left by Mal’s exit was deafening. Neither nor Wash spoke or moved.

“You told him,” Wash said flatly looking mostly at his hands.

”Not exactly.”

Silence again.

“You talk in your sleep,” Zoë supplied, crossing the room and busying herself by re-shelving items. She couldn’t look at him, not yet anyway.

“What’d I say?”

”Not sure, Kaylee heard you. Something about Demeter and a box. You had a high fever.”

“So, from that he figured out I grew up there. Me saying Demeter and box,” Wash continued a slight chuckle in his voice.

“No. That’s when I told him. If I hadn’t he’d of thought worse things then you just living there.”

“Worse like what?” Wash said, his voice getting louder with each syllable, “What, does he think I’m some sort of spy?”

”Listen,” Zoë said growing angrier by the second, “if you would have told him yourself when you first came aboard this ship you wouldn’t be having this problem now.”

“If I’d have tol