Disclaimer: Firefly belongs to people not me. Intended for fun, not profit.

Note: This is the long awaited and hardly anticipated piece of le-se. I shouldn't say that, should I?

Thanks: To LostAngel and Philomel for good, if dueling, betas.

Feedback: Oh yeah. Bring it.

Natural Talent

Mal walked down Serenity’s corridor enjoying the small noise his boots made on the grating. When he stopped, he could feel the ship thrum up his legs, vibrating at the same speed as his body. He and his ship were in tune. His ship. The feeling was still new and wonderful. Having Serenity didn’t make his life any less difficult, but always knowing where his home was did. Knowing that he would be with Serenity in good times and in bad made the uncertainty okay. Hell, some days the uncertainty was a thrill.

The crew was coming together nicely. Having Zoë at hand was a comfort, a comfort the way having oxygen in the atmo was good. Things had locked into place when he signed the new mechanic on. And speaking of Kaylee, he thought, he found himself staring into the engine room at the working heart of his ship and soul and four pairs of feet. He pushed from his mind a memory of the last time he’d seen that.

“Kaylee?”

“Captain!” Her voice was pleasantly muffled. There was a clang and all four feet jumped in time, at one point crossing over each other in a tangle of boots. Mal heard metallic laughter.

“What that about in there, Kaylee?”

“Hold this,” Wash chuckled as his hand shot out from under the engine. Mal walked to them and squatted down a safe distance from their feet. He took the part, a snaking ceramic tube and looked at it blankly.

“What’re you doin’ under there, Wash?” Mal’s voice was edgy and accusatory.

Kaylee wiggled her way out.

“He’s helping, Captain.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes.

“There’s the problem!” Wash practically shouted.

Kaylee turned to his voice and the hollow ripping sound that sounded from under the engine, followed by a large chunk