The Black. Deadly Beauty. Harsh Grace. Isolation. Independence. Silence. Freedom. A place where a person survived, or didn't, based on their own skills and strength. A place where one could be as free and as much of their own person as possible. A place for countless possibilities.

All of those the traits Captain Reynolds admired about The Black and loved about being aboard Serenity. It was during those times just as he would pass from sleep to waking in his cabin that he felt as though there was nowhere he would rather be or doing. He could forget that they we once again sailing towards Miranda with an ex-Alliance researcher whose sanity and attachment to reality was questionable- at best. He could forget they were planning to track down and kill one particular Reaver who most likely would be around Miranda. He could forget Miranda and how it changed everyone and everything.

He could remember Wash and his smart-ass remarks and irrepressible humor as he piloted Serenity. Not as they last saw him skewered on a harpoon with blood pooling around him as he was ripped from his moment of triumph. He could remember him as a leaf on the wind, a Hawaiian shirted leaf on the wind but still a leaf on the wind nevertheless. He could remember everyone they lost over the years, but most vividly he remembered Reverend Book and Wash. Remembered them as though they were never gone…

But always that brief period faded as he was brought back to the reality which consciousness brings as his ship continued onwards towards Miranda with the obsessed Doctor Wyman aboard and everyone preparing as best they could for the impeding chaos. Wondering if they would be next to join Wash and Book.

Always that brief period of peaceful oblivion was too short, and always interrupted by some disturbance such as the thundering of feet and the sound of…

"Goramn it girl, git back here with that right now. You ain't wanna see me riled now girlie…"

Which was only answered by a string of giggles and an increase in the rate of the footsteps, ending in a SLAM and the indignant voices of Simon and Kaylee joining in with demands of their own. Leading to the footsteps increasing not only in number, but volume as well.

So much for today starting off as a good day, Mal sighed.

After exiting his quarters and discovering the impromptu interior redecoration which had taken place down the corridors and onward into the kitchen, Mal wondered if it would just be best to hop out of an airlock and discover what lovely colors and patterns he could see before his head went pop as it imploded in the vacuum of the Black rather than face the chaos that waited to great him in the dining area.

Mal never was one to take the fastest or easiest way out so he continued further into the kitchen despite all senses telling him to crawl back down into his cabin and pretend he never left it in the first place.

The distinctive aroma of scorched protein reached his nose and he was amazed at the adhesive properties of burnt protein supplement as it was plastered over nearly every available surface area in the dinning hall. The table was set with the standard plates, glasses and utensils befitting breakfast, although the tabletop layout was askew and in shambles with cups overturned, dripping their caffeine laden beverages onto the table and subsequently the floor as well. There were even several forks stabbed menacingly in the tabletop and chairs as though the assault involved ninjas who had forsaken their traditional shurikens in favor of dreaded artillery known as kitchenware cutlery. Chairs were pulled back and tipped over like their former occupants had engaged in a mass exodus. All except for a lone chair in which sat one individual, calm and composed. Sipping their cup of coffee while sitting peacefully among the wreckage of…of…well, Mal wasn't sure what it was but he was damn sure he was gonna find out.

Striding towards the table, Mal was preparing a scorching verbal retort to demand just what in all the 'verses was going on on his ship when he was interrupted by…

"Morning Captain. Coffee?"

"Zoe? Just what in all the goramm blazes is going on?"

"I am offering you coffee Sir. What does it look like? Chances are you will need it." She replied indicating the pot she was holding in one hand and an overturned cup she had plucked from the table in the other.

"Dammit Zoe, you know full well what I meant. What the hell is all this?" He demanded, sweeping an arm around the carnage which was once the dining hall.

"Breakfast."

"Breakfast?"

"Yes, Breakfast Sir. The most important meal of the day, although I am starting to reconsider that claim. I believe you are familiar with the meal Sir?"

"Yes Zoe, I know what breakfast is and this most certainly does not look like any breakfast I am acquainted with."

A shrug as she took another sip from her mug and leaned over to select a piece of toast from a neighboring table setting.

"You may want to ask River for clarifications seeing as she was the one who prepared breakfast this morning." A slight pause as she took a bite from the toast then indicated down a hallway.

"It appears that she headed down that way. Chances are you can find the rest of the crew to get their versions of this morning's events too, since it sounded like they seemed rather intent on finding River as well."

Looking down the corridor and then back towards Zoe sitting at the table munching on what had been intended as breakfast, Mal was seriously reconsidering his decision to leave his quarters again. Ever. But as Captain he repressed those logical thoughts and started towards the hallway which Zoe indicated as the last known direction of River and the rest of his crew.

Nope, not a good day at all. And he hadn't even a cup of coffee to start the day. Maybe he should have taken Zoe up on her offer but it was too late for that now as he headed in the direction that he heard faint noises emanating from. Nope, not a good start to the day at all.