Zoë's been shot. Those words echoed strangely around Mal's head, as if something was wrong about them he couldn't quite pin down. Perhaps it was the knowledge that, despite all his dark thoughts, Zoë had got herself hurt around people that weren't him. After years of believing that he was her bad-luck charm, it was no wonder his world felt sideways.

Alternately of couse, it could be the way that he was sidelined in the bustle of a busy infirmary, with no way of knowing how badly his second in command was hurt, and the only answer he seemed about to receive was 'Not right now, Captain.' You wouldn't think it was possible to say Captain politely and dismissively, but Simon Tam was a genius after all.

Wash was protesting loudly about something, and Mal suspected that all his captainy authority wasn't going to get him listened to this time. Or, to be more accurate, he wasn't able to throw Wash against the wall right now.

Simon's voice raised above Wash's. 'Wash, if you don't get us in the air right now, it isn't going to matter what I do for Zoë. And everyone needs to leave while I operate anyway. Unless someone has a strong desire to further delay me getting this bullet out of her chest?'

The room emptied, but he could hear the whispers outside the room – urgent and panicked.

Inside there was just Simon's soft footfalls as he prepared himself for surgery.

There was a soft cough at the door. 'You need a nurse.'

'River,' Simon responded gratefully. 'Can you hold these for me?'

For a long while Mal did nothing but wonder how the Tam siblings could do something as complicated as surgery with barely a word spoken between them. Finally, Simon sighed in satisfaction, 'There we go.'

'Good strong roots,' River agreed, or at least it appeared to be agreement. 'Shoots will come back clean and sturdy.'

'Yes,' Simon answered happily. Was it possible that both the Tam's were insane? River's particular brand of insanity would make anyone else seem perfectly sane. And there was the way that... Or maybe he was overreacting and Simon had just gotten better at making her tangents seem like sense.

Simon's voice went echoey, and Mal hoped for his own sake that the doctor was using the comm., else it seemed at least two of his senses were broke, not one.

'Wash?' Simon called. Well that was one problem down. 'If we're flying okay, your wife is out of surgery.'

'She's gonna be okay?'

'She's fine. The bullet missed everything important. Miraculously so, in fact, I've never seen a bullet to the chest miss like that.'

'Can I see her?' Wash asked.

'Of course. That was nice flying, by the way, I hardly felt a thing.'

Wash sounded surprised at the praise. 'It was nothing, doc. Thanks, though. I'm gonna put her on auto and come down in a few minutes, okay?'

'Okay.' Simon answered. He walked over to Mal's side. 'Your turn.'

'Simon...'

Simon halted. 'I'm sorry about before. I was just in such a hurry to get Zoë on the table. I should have taken the time to explain, but she was bleeding out too fast. She's fine though. Or she will be. It was lucky.'

'Guess you were right about the bullets flying,' Mal observed.

'This is one of the times I'd rather be wrong,' Simon said. 'The hospital part went fine, actually, did we say? It was the buyers that were... they'd rather have something for nothing I suppose.'

'Buyers get like that,' Mal said in a non-committal tone.

'I know probably should have spotted that, but...'

Mal interrupted him. 'You did fine, doc. Sometimes the buyer's a snake, you just gotta factor that in. Which you did, by bringing in Zoë. And then talked that husband of hers down from crashing us all into some moon. Then finished it off by stitching her back up after she got hit.' Mal was surprised to note to himself that this was at least as much about reassuring Simon as it was shutting off the doctor's ramblings. 'Did as well as I do most days. That was not, by the way, an invitation to contemplate stealing my ship. But you did good. What did I tell you? Any day we're still flying's shiny, okay?'

'Right...' Simon said. 'Anyway, Captain, I'm sorry, I think you were going to say something before?'

'I was gonna ask if you were sure you wanted to play with your new toy right now.'

'My new... the mender?'

'That's the one,' Mal said.

'Why not?'

'It's been a long day, people were shooting at you, Wash was yelling, people were shooting at you, Jayne probably did something Jayne-like at some point during the heist, people were shooting at you...'

'I'm fine, Captain.'

'You sure? Wouldn't want you slipping and accidentally mending my eyelids together.'

'How many times do... I was a trauma surgeon, Captain, my hands don't shake.'

'They teach you to hold them steady in doctoring-school?'

Simon laughed. 'They train us to hold them steady. I know Kaylee thinks I'm ... a robot did she say? But it's useful.'

'No coffee jitters?'

'No jitters when the people you care about are under the knife.' Again the little laugh, 'It's almost as if Professor Tagami was preparing me for life on this ship. No shakes, even when your Captain is half burnt up, or missing an ear, or bleeding to death all over you.'

'That's a mighty useful skill, doc.'

'It is.' Simon rested the back of his hand against Mal's lower arm. 'See?' Mal felt the gentle brush of knuckles against his own warm skin. And true enough, Simon's hand was perfectly steady.

'That's mighty reassuring.'

'I'm glad,' Mal suspected Simon was teasing him. 'Now, I need to put you under.'

'Need? Couldn't just give me the pain pills?'

'Sorry, Captain, I need to examine your retina without you trying to move it. I won't keep you under general anaesthetic any longer than necessary.'

Mal sighed and waved an arm as close to Simon's direction as he dared.

Simon grabbed the flapping arm and Mal felt the sharp jab before he was pulled under.

This time the voice he woke to was Simon's. He could tell the doctor was smiling because it warms every part of his speech. Zoë and Wash were making pleased background noises, but it was Simon's happiness he chose to wake up to. 'What's the racket?'

'Captain, how are you feeling?' Mal thought for a second that he shouldn't have spoken. Simon's voice had went doctory again, and he wondered what was wrong with him to have provoked that. But he focussed, and picked up the smile under the words all over again.

'Still can't see...' Mal said

'Captain, I explained that it...'

'Would be a while, I know. So what did your doohickey tell you?'

And now he knew Simon was happy because he kept quiet about the mangling of medical English. 'I did a first pass with the mender, and the prognosis seems good.'

'First pass?'

'It's going to take a longer course of treatment than simply reattaching an ear.'

'Simply? Tell you what doc, next time we'll cut of your ear and see how simple it is.'

'All I meant,' Simon said, 'was that reattaching an ear is comparatively much simpler than mending all the different tissues in the eye. As I told you, the bandages will be on for at least three weeks.'

'On the plus point, sir,' Wash noted from his wife's bedside. 'You'll have lots of time to work on your pirate impression. You seem to have one too many patches but...' Wash ducked as a pillow was sent, surprisingly accurately, at his head. 'It's sad when pain drives a man to bitterness. Attacking his loved ones...' Wash trailed off mournfully.

'Come on, husband,' Zoë said. 'Think it's time we left the Captain alone.'

'Hey!' Simon protested from behind a yawn.

'Somehow, doctor, I suspect you won't be much company,' Zoë said. 'There's something about a heist, a fire fight and two rounds of surgery that just seem to take it out of you.'

'Young men today,' Wash tutted. 'No stamina. Now me'n Zoë...'

'Bed,' she ordered.

When he was relatively sure the two had left, Mal asked, 'Should she be moving?'

'Your surgery took quite a while, Captain. So, no, she shouldn't, but it won't kill her. I'm going to lie down though, if you don't mind. Do you need anything?'

'Uh...if you wouldn't mind...' Mal started in embarrassment.

Simon pattered across the room to the abandoned projectile and returned to Mal's side. 'Pillow. Lift your head.' He placed the pillow carefully under Mal's shoulders.

As Simon took his hands away, Mal caught one. He pressed his palm against it. 'Huh. It's shaking now.'

Simon drew the hand away quickly. 'I must have been wrong then, the tiredness did catch up with me.'

'Guess that must be it.'

AN2: Still like?