Title : Captainy Things

Not Mine : All the characters and little plot references belong to Joss & Co.

Mal bid Wash goodnight as he left the bridge, knowing that later, Zoe would venture up to fall asleep in her husband’s arms. Just as she had done countless nights before. He began his nightly walk through, venturing down the stairs, hearing his footsteps echo through her, clanking like metal on metal. He ran his hands along her cold corridor walls, feeling her vibrate beneath his fingertips. It had become a dance, a nightly tango through her halls, from one end of the ship to the other. It had started years ago when he first bought her, mostly as a precaution to make sure that things weren’t fallin’ off of her in the wee hours. Over time, it became a ritual.

Tonight he walked the same path as always. First he passed through the hall lined with the hatches leading to the primary crew’s bunks. They were his own, Jayne's, Wash and Zoe’s, and Kaylee’s. Kaylee’s bein’ the one lined with all the foofera and lights. He smiled as he passed it, knowing the young woman’s dreams were somewhere between spinnin’ engine parts and a full on exam by the young doc. The latter he found a little creepifyin’ after hearin’ about it for the third time.

He left the hall and entered into the inviting half light of the galley. He randomly pushed in two wicker chairs and plucked a few grapes out of the basket at the center of the table. He made a mental note of the pile of dishes in the sink. Seemed Jayne had neglected his turn again. From there he drifted down the hall into the engine room where he stood for a moment in the reddish glow of the operating lights. He listened to the hum of the engine as she spun in her chamber, and he patted her gently. The dull racket was a comfort to him. He much preferred it to no movement at all...

Outside he took the staircase down to the infirmary and he glanced through the windows. The sterile interior stayed lit by bright white lights, and sat still as a museum, in one of her mo