Translations: Are below.

Qing-wa cao de liu mang—Frog-humping son of a bitch

December Twenty-Second

Mal climbed out of his bunk, trying to get the guts to face a day no doubt full of holiday talk. He could have handled a few sprigs of holly on the wall. The Shepherd reading an extra Bible verse. Even Wash and Zoe staying in bed all day to celebrate. But no, Kaylee had to propose all this extra foolery, and he'd given into it because Simon just had to make the whole thing sound momentarily reasonable.

"Storm's cleared up, sir," Zoe informed him in the hall. "Reckon folks will want to head for the town. We shouldn't have trouble finding gifts there, it's pretty big. We could walk, but the mule will be faster."

"You and Wash mind picking up supplies today, doing your shopping later?"

"Shouldn't be a problem. I'll check with him, though." Zoe headed off towards the bridge.

Mal walked down to the cargo bay and glimpsed Simon sitting on the weight bench with a mug of tea. "Something wrong with the kitchen for drinking activities?"

"I fled." Simon sipped his tea. "Kaylee and River have taken over."

"What's that mean, exactly?"

"It means they're making snowflakes and paper chains."

"Snowflakes?"Mal spluttered. "Ain't we got enough real snow outside?"

"I don't think that's the point."

"And you leaving your little sis alone with a pair of scissors, that's downright dangerous, that is."

"They're dull and rusty, but—" Simon got to his feet. "Maybe I should go make sure—"

Mal snorted. "Sit down, Doc. You could take a joke, Jayne wouldn't feel the need to be after you all the time."

"Oh, I think Jayne would feel the need to be after me in any case. He's a positive sadist. Perhaps I should operate on him without anesthetics next time."

"Don't you dare—" Mal began, before he saw Simon half-smiling. "Ain't anyone ever told you not to mess with your captain?"

"You. Repeatedly. But if you could take a joke, I wouldn't feel the need to."

Mal chose to abandon this particular battle. "Thinking folks will want to head for town today. You and River should let 'em know if there's anything you want. Though you might be able to go out your own selves. People 'round here ain't terribly fond of the Alliance. No Feds out this far."

"I'm not sure River should risk it anyway. She tends to...leave an impression. And she can't stay here by herself."

"Wouldn't have to. There's seven people on this boat besides her and you."

"That's true," Simon said cautiously. "And Shepherd Book did tell me there was some kind of equipment accident over at their factory, and that some people can't afford a doctor. I should see if I can do anything."

Mal spared a moment to wonder just how it was Book seemed to know everything. "Don't give away all our meds. We need 'em."

"Don't worry. You're talking to the man who keeps all the bullets he pulls out of you in a jar. When it gets full you can treat us to dinner."

"You mean they all fit in one jar?"

Simon laughed a little. "From the way you've been reacting, you'd prefer us to decorate with jars of bullets rather than anything to do with Christmas."

"Just don't see the point of snowflakes, is all. Cluttering up the place with what you've already got. Now, if they were to get hold of some evergreens—" Mal stopped.

"What?"

"Ain't important."

"You like evergreens?" Simon sipped his tea.

Mal shrugged. "Well enough. Where I grew up on Shadow, weren't many trees. Didn't hardly terraform it good enough to grow aught but grass—that's why we had the ranch, didn't farm. So my mother, she'd dig into her pocket for coin for a few evergreens from off-world every Christmas. Oranges too. We always had oranges, even though they cost an arm and a leg." He cut himself off. Talking about Shadow would just make him miss the place more.

"Funny. In a way that makes me envy you."

"What? Why?"

"Because…" Simon hesitated a moment. "Because I was taught things had to be elaborate and impressive to have value. Getting some joy out of an evergreen branch, or an orange, or other simple things like fresh rosemary or working engine parts—that's something I've only learned here on Serenity. And it's…a better way to live."

"Huh." Mal hadn't thought of it that way. "Don't see how it's better, with us getting shot at every other week."

"I didn't say it was an easier way to live." Simon's eyes dropped to the floor. "My family could have given us almost anything we wanted, but it didn't cost them a thing. Everything you and the rest of the crew give us is earned with wit and hard work and blood. That makes it—" He halted, and set down his tea. "Never mind."

"But you'd go back, if you could." There'd never been any doubt in Mal's mind that Simon and River would've returned to the Core, if it had been safe.

"Knowing what I know now, I'm not sure I could." Simon got off the weight bench and climbed the stairs.

Knowing what he knew now? Mal was about to ask Simon just what he meant by that when River darted out of the kitchen with a pair of scissors, Kaylee right behind her. "Those are mine! Give 'em back!"

"Ownership is relative." River skipped out of her reach. "Does the sky own the birds? Does the ship own the crew?"

Simon sped up. "Don't run with scissors, it's not safe! Give them to Kaylee."

River ran towards the bridge, neatly avoiding Inara, who had just come down the stairs. Kaylee wasn't so lucky, and had to rock backwards to keep from falling on her friend, which knocked Simon hard into the railing. Jayne, standing in the door to the kitchen, snickered.

"Sorry, 'Nara! River took my scissors." Kaylee held up what Mal had to admit was a fairly decent snowflake. "We're makin' decorations! Wanna help?"

"I'm afraid I have a client soon. That sounds lovely, though. Perhaps I'll join you when I get back." Inara moved towards her shuttle. "I just wanted to wish everyone luck with their holiday shopping. I've heard you're buying food today." She beckoned to Kaylee and handed her a silk pouch. "There's my contribution."

"Oh, that reminds me." Simon fumbled in his vest pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Here you are. River gave some too."

"Thanks, folks. I'm just gonna go see where Shepherd Book is. He said he'd go with me and help pick out the spices." Kaylee walked past Jayne into the kitchen. Simon ran up the bridge stairs after River, and Inara vanished into her shuttle.

Wash and Zoe, both in snow-gear, emerged from the bunk hallway. "Where's Kaylee?" Wash waved a handful of credits. "We want in on Christmas dinner."

"I'd be glad to give them to her." Book came from the passenger quarters, wearing a heavy coat and boots. "We're going together."

Jayne sighed and pulled out a grubby-looking packet. "Here, preacher-man. Don't buy any of them cheap cake mixes. They ain't worth nothin'."

"I think we can be trusted to know food of good quality." Book collected everyone's money.

Mal gave up and dug in his pocket. "Tell Kaylee she oughtn't spend too much. No need to dip into her own coin."

"Of course, Captain."

Kaylee reappeared, now dressed in a sweater, scarf, and hat. "Let's go, Shepherd!" She ran down the stairs and began to punch the buttons that opened the cargo bay door.

"We'll give you two a ride into town," Zoe said, going to the mule. "We're getting supplies for when we leave."

Simon hurried down from the bridge, scissors in hand. "If you don't mind, I'd like to come along. Just let me get my..." He stopped, looking at everyone in their warm clothes. "Oh. You're all going."

"Somethin' wrong?" Kaylee's forehead creased.

"I can't leave River by herself. If none of you are staying, I'll have to."

"Yeah," Jayne muttered. "I ain't watchin' Crazy."

The man didn't have to look so crestfallen, Mal thought irritably. You'd think hanging around a bunch of injured folk wouldn't be much of a party. But no, Simon Tam had to get a sad face over missing it. "I'll be here. One girl ain't much to keep an eye on when you've got nothing else to do."

"Would you? I'd really like to help them, if they need it."

Now it was himself Mal was irritated with. He shouldn't be doing bothersome things just 'cause they made the doctor happy. Simon hadn't even asked. But he never did ask for much, except for the crew to keep River away from the Feds and restock the infirmary he used to stitch them back together. It wouldn't cost Mal much to give him something he seemed to want for once.

"Said I would, didn't I? You just hide those scissors, though. Don't want to get stabbed."

"Thank you. I will." Simon looked ruefully at the rusty tool. "I think otherwise I'd have to give you a tetanus shot."

Soon, the mule was off, Wash driving, Zoe beside him, and the others scrunched in the back seats. Jayne went to his bunk, and Mal turned his attention to locating River, a task that proved more difficult than he'd thought it would be. She weren't on the bridge where he'd assumed at first, she weren't in the kitchen, and she weren't in her bunk. Or anyone else's, unless she was down there with Jayne. Which Mal thought unlikely. Ever since River had sliced him open with a knife, he hadn't had much patience with her.

After checking the hatch where they kept smuggled goods, Mal threw up his hands. "Girl, if you're hiding somewhere, you've got me beat."

There was a giggle from the kitchen, and River stuck her head out. "You gave up."

"I looked in there twice!" Mal hurried up the stairs.

River giggled again. "I stayed behind you, was very, very quiet. If you're quiet enough, you disappear." Her face suddenly crinkled up in a puzzled way. "Wanted to disappear. How did you find me?"

"You came out, remember?"

"That's what they'll say!" River wailed. "Make me come out of my mouse-hole, tempt me with cheese. Rip me apart with their claws." She huddled against the wall.

Mal stood there helplessly. "Alright. How about I pretend I don't see you? That sound a proper notion?"

"It's all pretending," River muttered. "The painted lady butterfly is flourishing her wings now. Mating season. But it's not real. She just thinks it is. The jackal bears his teeth. Wants to feed on the carrion. But it's not real. He just thinks it is."

"Painted lady butterfly? Jackal?"

River gave him a scornful look. "You know them. In your pack, wild wolf. You don't hunt alone."

"What kind of hunting you thinking on?"

"Hunt to eat, like we were made to do." River abruptly crumpled, rocking back and forth. "But the human animal does not devour its kills. Full of lead. Bad for the digestion." Her face suddenly brightened. "But some people dance instead."

"Dance instead of hunt? Is that what you're saying?"

"Human beings develop excess energy in the absence of life-threatening circumstances," River informed him. "But dancing also stimulates dopamine in the brain." She suddenly leapt to her feet and ran down to the cargo bay, where Jayne's weights stood on their stand.

"Don't you touch—" Mal began, but River was already yanking a weight free.

To his shock, she easily tossed it in the air and caught it, then grabbed another one and threw it at him. "Play too!"

Mal got out of the way just in time. "Gorram it, girl, you want me to break a foot?"

River glared. "Spoil the game."

"Here." Mal recalled, with relief, the red ball the crew used, and grabbed it from near the bench. "You want to play, play with this."

The next few hours wore Mal out more than any three gunfights put together. River dashed all over the ship and sulked whenever he didn't chase her. She tore the infirmary apart and stuck a (thankfully disinfected) needle in his arm when he tried to stop her. She went into the kitchen and started hitting a pot with a wooden spoon, claiming the quiet was hurting her ears. Then she insisted on telling him a very long story about a Galilean tax collector, poking him whenever she suspected he wasn't paying attention. The climax of the morning was her flipping a safety switch and sending alarms going all over the ship.

"Are you always like this?" Mal finally demanded when he'd gotten the switch reset and sent a highly aggravated Jayne back to his bunk.

River cocked her head to one side. "Approximately eighty-one percent of the time, yes. With a seven percent margin of error."

It was a miracle Serenity weren't in more of a mess than she was. At least River hadn't cried or set anything on fire. Mal tried hastily to put that out of his mind, in case she could read it somehow. "So what exactly does your brother do to keep you in line, huh?"

"Watches. Watches like a mother eagle. Brings the fish in his mouth." River stared out across the cargo bay. "Gives himself away until every piece is gone. Soon there will only be a voice in the air."

"Simon ain't going nowhere," Mal told her. "Wouldn't leave you, I reckon."

River looked straight at him. "Wouldn't leave you either."

"What?"

"He'll never ask. Thinks the painted lady butterfly flutters by. But she covers her eyes when he puts the needle in. Who would the wolf rather hunt with?"

Mal had an odd feeling he was supposed to know the answer to that question, but he doubted he'd come up with one if he puzzled for a week. "Don't know what you mean."

"You will. The music has begun. Open your ears, said Christ, that you may hear."

"I ain't interested in—"

River cut him off. "You can point and laugh, or you can step out on the floor and dance. Stimulates dopamine in the brain."

Before Mal could ask what she meant (not that he thought he'd understand her response), the ramp in the cargo bay creaked down and the mule appeared, laden with supplies. Zoe swung herself down from the driver's seat, Wash behind her. "We've got what we need. Kaylee and the Shepherd threw in their food so they didn't need to carry it. They're walking back."

Wash grabbed a bundle off the top of the supply pile. "I promised them I'd put this in the cooler. By the way, Simon's staying in town until later. Turns out that accident was pretty nasty, as accidents go."

"I'll unload this." Mal marched down the stairs. "You two go watch her, and that's an order."

Zoe's mouth twisted into a half smile. "Trying day, sir?"

"You have no idea. If I had to do that all the time..."

"I'll keep an eye on her." Wash trotted up the stairs. "Don't worry, Mal. How hard could it be?"

Mal valiantly resisted the urge to punch his pilot.

Kaylee and Book arrived not too long afterwards, covered in snow. Kaylee, pink-cheeked and bright-eyed, declared that Serenity was right pretty in winter, with all the twinkling frost. Book smiled tolerantly and went straight to his quarters to, Mal suspected, warm up a mite.

Simon didn't turn up for dinner, and even after most of the crew had gone to bed he hadn't come back to Serenity. And Mal was only awake and waiting because he wasn't tired. Not the least bit. Chasing River had him all riled, that was it. No other reason. Jayne was staying up too, lifting weights in the cargo bay, so it clearly didn't mean a thing.

Mal sat on the stairs and wondered, reluctantly, how everyone's gift-hunting was going. Inara most likely had the coin to get something classy, but no one else on his boat did, so they'd have to, as Kaylee said, be creative. And though Mal liked to think he had a certain amount of inventiveness when talking himself and his crew out of a corner, he was most certainly stuck on what to get River as a gift.

He oughtn't worry on it too much, just get her a new pair of shoes or something. She needed 'em, wandering around Serenity barefoot half the time. But he doubted that would make River smile, and he wanted that despite himself. She smiled so rarely, and when River was happy, it seemed Simon was too.

Now, that was a terrible reason to do anything. So maybe he wanted River to have some joy, she'd been shut up and had needles stuck in her for three years. It wasn't Mal's fault if his brain seemed to get stuck on Simon-replay at the thought of anything to do with him.

What would the rest of the crew buy their folk? Whoever Kaylee had drawn would likely end up with something fluffy. The Shepherd, despite Mal's suspicions, would likely restrain himself and not give a Bible. Jayne could easily go for the cheap items. Zoe would get something practical, and Wash, something colorful, that was his guess. Mal hoped briefly that Inara had gotten Kaylee, since the mechanic seemed to admire all that fancy junk the Companion could easily lay her hands on.

There was a buzz and a creak from the cargo bay door, and Simon stumbled in, sending snow all over the floor. "I ain't cleanin' that up," Jayne remarked from the weight bench.

Simon ignored him, sitting on the stairs opposite and beginning to yank his boots off. He looked exhausted, and Mal had to resist the urge to rake him over the coals for being out so late. "Is River alright?"

"River's asleep," Mal told him. "She ought to be, running all over the ship like a lit firecracker today."

"Was she really that much trouble? I wouldn't have left if I'd known."

Mal waved him off. "She ain't screamed 'til my ears bled or blown anything up, so I count this a win. 'Sides, from what Wash said, the folk there needed help."

"They certainly did. The only hospital with decent doctors won't treat anyone without insurance. At least there were a few outside medical providers with some training."

"What exactly happened with that accident, could you tell?"

"Not completely, but people were complaining about factory negligence all day, so I'm guessing it was something that could have been prevented." Simon stared at the floor. "I was trying to treat eight people at once. Two of them died in an hour."

Jayne snorted. "Good thing it weren't the crew you were treating. Sounds like we'd be a couple short."

Simon slammed the boot he'd just removed down on the floor. "If you know a good way to treat people with third-degree burns on seventy percent of their bodies, why don't you go down there tomorrow?"

"You're the doctor, ain't ya? Thought it was your job to save folk's lives. First you ain't around when the Shepherd goes down and now—"

"If I'm so useless, treat your own gunshot wounds." Simon walked up the stairs towards the kitchen.

Mal glared at Jayne. "And just what the hell was that all about?"

Jayne shrugged. "He's too easy to get to. Ought to grow a backbone."

"Ain't sure you've got business getting on Simon for losing the folks he's looking after. Seeing as you've already made it clear you don't care if this crew ends up, as you say, a couple short."

"Those two ain't crew."

"Last time I checked, I said who was crew, not you." Mal stomped up the stairs into the kitchen.

Simon was digging through the tins of tea. "Did Kaylee and Book get back alright? It was snowing again when I left, I don't know whether they missed it."

"They're fine. Those tins ain't done you a personal wrong, have they? You look mighty upset with 'em."

"There's a girl Kaylee's age down in that town whose tongue was completely burned away. She'll never talk again. There's a husband who lost the wife he married two days ago. There's a man whose hands I had to amputate. Those are their Christmas presents, because some qing-wa cao de liu mang couldn't be bothered to replace broken equipment." Simon paused. "So yes, I'm upset. Wouldn't you be?"

"You gonna be alright?" Seemed like Simon thought of his patients the way Mal had thought of his soldiers. And oh, sure, he'd known it weren't his fault when they died, but it got to him bad all the same.

"All I wanted was for River to be happy and to be a good doctor. Now River cries half the time and I can't even—"

"You're a fine doctor. Wouldn't trust my crew to you otherwise."

"It means a lot to me to hear you say that." Simon, looking suddenly embarrassed, turned back around to mess with the tea some more.

"Jayne was out of line and you know it."

"Jayne knows he'll always have a place here. I don't. Having River and I onboard endangers everyone here, and if it gets too much greater we can't stay. So calling this ship home..." Simon trailed off.

Mal leaned against the table. "Sure, there's a limit to the risk we can run. But near everyone on this boat would fight hard to keep you here. You've made a place for yourself, and what you do's important, so don't go thinking otherwise."

"Thank you. That's..." Simon looked at the tin of tea in his hand. "I suppose I should stop pretending I want any of this. If I were somebody else right now, I'd drink myself silly."

"I'd say it's best you don't. I reckon Kaylee's latest batch of engine-fermented liquor could scorch your mouth right off."

"You're probably right. I'm just…angry. Mostly at myself, for being so blind."

Mal frowned. "Blind?"

"If that hospital had access to half the equipment and staff of the one I worked in on Osiris, I could have done twice as much to help." Simon slammed the tea tin back onto the counter. "The Alliance says they want to bring civilization, that being united would be for everyone's good, and there was a time I actually believed that. But I can't anymore, not when I see good people hurt or dying because they happened to be born on the wrong planet. Today just reminded me of that."

"Might be you'd get less angry if you didn't expect life to be fair."

"You do."

"What?" Mal stared at him. "You think I expect life to be fair? Simon, I had all that hammered out of me in the war."

Simon shook his head. "Maybe, but that obviously hasn't stopped you from thinking that life should be fair."

"Well, I don't get no credit for that. I'd be cold as stone if left to myself. It's my crew as makes me human. Makes me believe right and wrong even still exist." And Simon was part of that, more than Mal would ever say.

"That's odd, because I think you do the same for us." Simon stood awkwardly for a moment. "I should go check on River."

The mention of River made Mal remember something. "You know what your little sis means when she talks about stimulating dopamine in the brain?"

"Of course. Most simply, dopamine is a neurotransmitter that, among other things, induces pleasure and relaxation. One reason it can be stimulated in the brain is when something unexpectedly good happens."

"Well, that has River's babble making a mite more sense."

"That's always desirable. Have a good night."

Mal watched Simon heading off in the direction of the passenger quarters, trying to put the man out of his mind by recalling just what River had said. Dancing also stimulates dopamine in the brain. Suddenly he remembered what Simon had told them about River his first night on Serenity.

Everything she did—music, math, theoretical physics, even dance—there was nothing that didn't come as naturally to her as breathing does to us.

Mayhap he knew what to get the girl with the cut-up brain after all.