"We on course?" asks Mal, stepping on to the bridge.

Zoe jumps from her husbands lap. "Yes, sir, Cap'n, we're... um." Wash makes the mistake of looking at the captain's knees, like any man might, innocent-like, and not meaning nothing by it. "We're... We're not... crashing into... things."

"Good, keep that up," says Mal, and pats Wash on the shoulder, then strides off, to do... manly things, thinks Wash. Manly, manly, things.

"Sweatpea?" Wash begs. "Please tell me the captain wasn't wearing a skirt?"

"I'm afraid I can't rightly do that, Husband," says Zoe.

"Kaylee, you got that hydrator fixed? Nosebleeds are mighty off-putting at dinner time."

"Well, it'd be quicker if you'd hand me the--" Kaylee looks up. "Oooh, Captain!"

"What's that, li'l Kaylee? This going to be done soon? I don't like to have them things strewn about all slovenly."

"I... I don't think I can if you keep standing there, Captain."

"I blockin' your view?" Mal takes off for the galley and doesn't hear Kaylee say:

"Not a bit."

In the galley, Jayne's whetting one of his knives, and Inara's brewing tea.

"You're wearin' a skirt," he says, when Mal comes in.

"Who? Where?" says Mal, spinning around, making his pleats flare out like a spun lariat.

"You!" Jayne points at Mal with his knife.

"I am not!" protests Mal. "This here's a kilt. Ain't that so, Inara?"

"Looks like a skirt to me," says Jayne, losing interest. He goes back to stropping his knife.

Inara arches her eyebrow. "Why are you wearing a sk-- sorry, kilt, Mal?"

"It makes me feel pretty," says Mal, blinking innocently. "Gives a man a feeling of freedom."

"And you haven't done laundry in a cycle," says Shepherd Book, entering.

"And I ain't done laundry in a cycle," admits Mal.