The plain-looking newscaster Serenity is picking up from god only knows which moon they're passing is relaying some drivel or other before Mal tunes in on the words political candidacy and press conference recorded live today.
Mal sure as ruttin' hell hopes they're not asleep at their chairs at the moment, because finally - finally - there is something on worth watching.
"Doc? Anybody?" Mal calls down the main corridor leading from the bridge. "Gabriel's about to start talkin' front of a lot o' folk, and he looks business."
The timid smile on Kaylee's face calmed Mal, before a smirk of one crossed Simon's face as well.
Jubal's gone. River did it. Again.
Cough. "Good. One less thorn in our paw." A true grin, and Kaylee and Simon walk off again, probably to go tell someone else.
All alone in the kitchen, tea steeping, Mal lets out a loud "YES! TAKE THAT YOU HUN DAN!" while dancing in as masculine a manner as possible around the table.
He hopes River can hear him, if no one else.
He doesn't see River until he hooks his thumbs under the suspenders and gives them a good tug.
Turning to face the girl in the hallway, "What do you think?"
Sitting in the pilot's chair, Mal adjusts the T-Rex - Crichton - on the dashboard, prepping the pre-flight sequence while being completely aware of the presence in the co-pilot's chair.
"You gonna ride shotgun, help me fly?"
Mal is not bored. He's working.
He's gone through about anything he can think of to be polite and considerate and all those things he'd ever been taught, and failing.
Giving up and scrawling on a piece of paper a short note, Mal folds it in half and places it next to a pure white crane he had been practicing folding for forty five minutes previous. It took him awhile because he had to remember what a crewmember of his had specified, which crease goes first and all that.
Finally satisfied, he takes the note and the origami piece to the infirmary. Simon'll get it to River; Mal can't really think of a reason why River'd be interested in seeing him at the moment.