Simon stared in horror as the Doctor gently lifted River's unconscious body into a seated carry. He ran over to them, pulling a light from his pocket.

When he got to them, he lifted her eyelids, checking her pupils, then her pulse. That done, he rounded on Doctor, anger etched on his face.

"What did you do to her-"

"I did nothing!" snapped the Doctor. "What she did, was to save all of your lives." He nodded in the general direction of the rest of the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, there are at least two others here who look like they need immediate attention. I'll attend to her."

"You said yourself you aren't a physician-" began Simon.

"Yes, and you are, Doctor Tam, which is why they need you now!" He shook his head. "I do know enough to handle any immediate first aid," he said. "I'll take her to the infirmary, and then I'll be in the engine room if anyone needs me. I have a feeling we're not entirely safe yet." With that, he strode past Simon and through the door.

Simon glared after him, gritting his teeth.

"Simon," called Zoe, "I think you should get to fixing up the crew now."

Simon blanched, and looked a little ashamed as he dashed up the stairs to where Mal was lying. He got to his knees and looked over him, checking his pulse and his eyes.

"Definitely unconscious, possible light concussion," he said. "I'm going to want to check that jaw, too- that discoloration's a bit too deep for a simple bruise." He looked at Zoe. "Whoever did this certainly was thorough. Who was it?"

"Jayne." She glanced down further into the hold. "You might want to check on him, too. Keep your wits about you, though."

Simon started to crack a smile, but dropped it as soon as he saw the look on her face. "Oh. I see." He rummaged in his bag a moment, then produced a small tube and a cotton pad. "Put this on his jaw; it should bring down the swelling and discoloration some. Don' t get any on your hands."

He stood up. "Hopefully, the Shepherd should be here soon, and can help get these two to the infirmary. Where is he, anyway?" He shook his head. "I can't imagine anyone sleeping through what just happened."

He started down the stairs to the hold's main floor, eyeing the man's position and the area around him with a professional eye.

He then looked Jayne over more closely. The man appeared to be waking up, but from the look of the bruises spreading across his arm and neck, and the groan of pain that escaped his lips, he wasn't about to be starting any trouble.

He pulled on a pair of gloves, and took a roll of bandage from his bag. He reached over to test the bruise spreading on his midsection-

He suddenly found himself with Jayne's shaking fist stopped scant inches away from his face. He glanced over into his pain-maddened eyes, which were looking over his shoulder. He followed the gaze behind him.

Zoe was standing there, the huge pistol in her hands aimed at Jayne's head.

Simon's eyes flicked between them. "Ah, thanks," he said. Zoe nodded once, keeping her gaze steady.

Jayne paused a moment more before dropping prone once more, air rushing from his lungs in a pained 'whoof!'

As Simon set about dealing with Jayne's various bruises and sprains, Wash came running in. "Honey, are you all right?"

"Just fine, sweetheart," said Simon, before Zoe had a chance to speak. He smirked a second, before allowing his professional demeanor to drop back in place.

Wash blinked. "Wow, Mister Serious suddenly grew a sense of humor!" he said. He looked over at his wife. "Things really get that bad?"

"It's been... kinda strange. I think we'll all work out what happened later, but for the moment," she said, taking one hand off the pistol to grab her husband by the arm and pull him over, "keep this on Jayne until further notice."

Wash gave took the the gun and pointed it where she indicated. He had a concerned look on his face, but suddenly gave her a sheepish smile. "Gosh, honey, I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"Well, obviously I've missed our anniversary or something, and I forgot to get you a gift, too." He gestured with the pistol at Jayne. "Don't worry, I'll make it up to you somehow." He grinned and winked.

She snorted. "I'm sure you will," she said. "Just be careful with that piece. Jayne may forgive you if you shoot him with his own gun, but god forbid you drop it and get it scratched."

"Will do."

-

Zoe vaulted up the stairs three at a time and arrived at the Captain's side. He was just starting to wake up, which was a little more than Simon had allowed for, apparently. She pulled the pad off, tossing it away, then caught Mal's wrist as it was coming up to his cheek.

"Z'e? Wh..." Mal frowned. He couldn't move his jaw so well, and the room around him... danced. Swirly, and yet, kinda familiar. Oh, yeah, the hold. His ship.

He struggled to an elbow. It seemed to steady the room a bit. Why couldn't anything just go smooth? He groaned. He extended his arm, and helped Zoe as much as he could to get him to his feet.

He looked blearily over at her. "Wh' happ' w' J'ne?" He winced as a bolt of pain went through his head.

"Jayne's in his right mind now," she said, "I think. Try not to talk too much; Simon thinks your jaw may be broken."

The room had stopped spinning so much; he looked down at the tableu of Jayne being fixed up by the doc while Wash covered them both. "B'st'rd," he muttered.

They got down the stairs, somehow. As they walked over to where the others were, Jayne looked up at Wash. "Can I have my gun back now?"

"Well, that depends. Can I be sure you won't shoot me?"

"Not really."

"Well then!" said Wash brightly. "I guess both our questions get answered, for the price of-"

"Dear?"

"Yes, light of my life?"

"Just give him back his gun."

Wash looked over at his wife, an elaborately sad look on his face. "Awww..."

He then shrugged and handed the gun to Jayne, who put the safety on and stood up, wincing. He looked over at Zoe. "What the gorram hell happened? One second that thing's in my face, the next, I'm down here feelin' like I've been fed through the ruttin' engine!"

She looked at him a long moment, looked at Mal. He shrugged.

She looked back at him.

"Things got complicated."

Simon finished putting his tools away in his bag, then stood up. "Okay, I think we've done as much as we can here," he said. "Let's get to the infirmary and see what else needs to be done."

Wash looked around. "The ship was doing a pretty lively dance," he said. "I could see Inara staying put, or getting buried under all her silks, but Book? Wouldn't he have come down to, I dunno, help out?" He scratched his head. "Give last rites?"

Zoe looked at him, then hit an intercom button nearby. "Shepherd? You there?"

"Of course I am. Where else would I be?"

Zoe looked at Mal, a slight frown on her face. Book had sounded calm, but was clearly irritated about something.

"Something wrong?"

"Well, could you please let the Captain know that next time he doesn't want me attending one of your meetings, he could just let me know?"

"I don't understand."

There was a long silence. Then, "You don't have to lock me in my room! I mean really, it's not like I haven't participated in your plans, but-"

"Shepherd, none of us locked your door. We do have a stowaway, but it's under control."

"So they may be the one who locked me in?"

"Yes. Look, we've got wounded, so most of us are going to the infirmary," she looked over at Wash, who nodded, and headed off toward the passenger quarters. "Wash should be there to let you out soon."

-

"All right," said Simon, as they approached the infirmary. "Now-" the next words, whatever they were, died on his lips.

Through the open door, they could see equipment and drugs scattered about; one of the beds was canted to the side, saved from falling over only by the bolts holding it to the floor.

" 桂香胶 ! River!" Simon dashed into the room, panicked. "Simon, wait-" Zoe began.

Simon stopped inside the door. "Oh," he said softly. The rest followed him in, then froze. Jayne swore.

The Doctor sat slumped against the far wall, half-covered in bottles, equipment and a couple of old blankets. He wasn't moving.

Simon started forward with his bag, but couldn't stop himself from blurting, "Where's Riv-" A hand clamped down on his shoulder, and spun him around to face a very angry Jayne.

"Show some gorram respect, ya punk," he snarled. "It's obvious your 被烘烤的脑子 li'l sister did this, and if she was able ta take out the Doc that fast, well..." he took another look at the Doctor's still form."We could be in for a world o' hurt."

He gave Simon a shove. "Now get to fixin'!"

Simon stumbled back, then regained his feet, his mouth an indignant line. "I'll help him, of course," he said with a glare. "I think you give him a bit too much credit, though. Sure, he seems healthy for his age, but-"

"He's right."

"Thank you, Zoe."

Zoe sighed. "Jayne's right, Simon. We've seen the Doctor in action. He's good. Very good." She helped Mal get seated on the remaining sick bed, then straightened. "If she did this and is at large, we may have a problem."

Simon had reached the Doctor's side. "Well, I do have something prepared, though I had hoped not to..." He opened a drawer, then stared a moment in surprise. He turned on Jayne. "All right, where are they?"

"What?"

"I had two sedative-loaded hypo-sprays in here, and they're gone. Where are they?"

"Hell if I know. You're s'posed ta take care o' that stuff," said Jayne. He glared at Simon, stepping forward. "Now you get ta doctorin'. I ain't takin' any more o' your lip, ya dandified piece o' puke."

Mal rested his head in his hands, and sighed. The gou shi definitely seemed to have hit the fan.