Shepherd Book lifted the wooden spoon carefully out of the pot and blew on its contents for a moment before taking a taste.
"Perfect," he said, talking to himself. "Just needs about another hour on a low simmer and it'll be ready to eat."
He put the spoon down on the countertop and covered the pot, fiddling with the stove's control a bit to lower the flame before leaving the galley to wash up and read some Bible passages before dinner.
Shortly after the preacher had left, Mal climbed up the ladder of his cabin and turned towards the mess. He was on his way to see Inara to find out where she planned to look for work next. In truth, he just wanted to spend some time in the Companion's shuttle with her, maybe start a fight and watch her get angry with him. Or they might sit and drink a cup of tea. Either way, the planning was a good excuse.
As he came down the stairs into the mess, he could smell the Shepherd's stew bubbling its intoxicating aroma into the air.
"Mmmmmm, that smells delicious," Mal said, coming to a stop near the stove. "Something's missin', though," and he came around and rummaged in a cupboard until he found what he was looking for.
He screwed the top from a bottle of spice with a Chinese label, lifted the pot's lid, and shook a liberal amount into the stew before stirring it with the spoon and replacing the lid. He then closed the jar back up and returned it to the cupboard.
"That should do it," he said before continuing on his way.
A few minutes later, Kaylee came through the aft door of the mess, whistling a tune she had heard on the cortex. She was on her way to see Wash in the cockpit to ask him if he'd go parts shopping with her when they landed on Mariana in a couple of days. There were still some planets in the 'verse where, oddly enough, female mechanics were not respected, and Kaylee had discovered the only way to sometimes even be heard was to have a man with her. And since Wash, unlike the captain, actually knew what an ionizing backflow regulator was, for example, the pilot was the best one to have along.
She stopped whistling when she got a whiff of the stew.
"Oh, smells good," she said, making a detour around the counter to stand in front of the stove. "I know somethin' that'll make it better, though," she declared, reaching into a cupboard to one side below the counter, bringing out a canister and adding some of its contents to the pot.
After putting the canister back and replacing the pot's lid, Kaylee continued on to the cockpit, whistling merrily once again.
The stew bubbled peacefully for a few more minutes, its smell bringing River to a stop at the top of the stairs. She had come to see if some of her colored pencils had maybe slipped under the cushions of the couch, since she couldn't find a particular blue one that she needed for a drawing she was doing of the infirmary for Simon's birthday present.
Going around behind the cooking island, River nimbly hopped up onto the counter then moved her right foot over to the ledge under the bank of small storage compartments on the other side so she was evenly balanced between the two surfaces. She then reached up to the topmost level of doors and opened the latch of the one in the middle, putting a hand inside and bringing out three shrink-wrapped packets clutched in her fist.
Dropping silently back to the floor in one fluid motion, she removed the lid from the stew, tore open the packages, and dumped their contents into the pot, using the wooden spoon to stir it about before putting the lid back and discarding the wrappings in the waste bin under the sink.
After searching through the couch and finding her lost pencil along with a button, a two-credit coin and three missing jacks, River left the mess and its cooking food to return to the infirmary.
Jayne was next in the room, and he paused for a moment and smiled before going around behind the counter and pulling two bottles from a shelf, one filled with a red liquid and one filled with a green liquid. He held them up in front of his face in turn, trying to determine which would be best. Finally deciding to not decide, he added some from each bottle to the stew and put them back before stirring the pot and saying to himself, "This is gonna be good."
Just then, the preacher returned, refreshed and ready to begin serving the supper.
"Oh, Jayne," he said when he saw the mercenary tending to the food, "thank you. I was worried that it might have boiled a bit too dry."
"Seems just fine," Jayne replied, and the men found bowls and spoons and put a big basket of rolls on the table as the rest of the crew filed in and found their places to begin eating.
Jayne dug in and ate heartily, and the others, although they started out gamely enough, were soon dropping their spoons back into their bowls and looking at each other guiltily, avoiding Shepherd Book's eyes altogether. The holy man just sat staring at his spoon, a puzzled look on his face as he rolled the bad-tasting concoction around on his tongue and wondered how it could have gone from delicious to disgusting in the space of one hour.
"This here is right tasty, Preacher," Jayne mumbled around a mouthful of bread and stew. "You sure are gettin' handy in the kitchen."
Eight pairs of eyes turned as one to stare at the big man, who continued eating until he had finished every drop.
