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'You never tell me I'm pretty,' Kaylee complained.

'Should I?' asked Mal, lolling across her lap in the bed.

'Well, I am, ain't I?'

'If you already know, why d'you need telling?'

She rolled her eyes. 'I don't know why women like you so much.'

'Well, why do you like me?'

'I don't,' she said, and stuck out her tongue at him. 'I think you're mean. But you're mighty clever with your hands, and your tongue, and that counts for a lot with a girl. Ain't every man knows what he's doing.'

'Well, there's the answer to your question,' Mal said breezily.

She hit him over the head with a pillow. But she was smiling while she did it.