Wash's days of teamkilling were long over - at least, as far as he was concerned - but if a little intimidation got Casey to stand still, then so much the better.

Right up to the point where Casey started shaking under his grip. Great. Panic wasn't going to help either of them, and if Casey bolted or attacked he may well get the both of them killed. "Stay cool," he murmured, slowly moving his hand from the back of Casey's neck to his shoulder, trying to ground him. "Deep breaths." Wash wasn't about to tell him that everything would be fine; with that damned chicken wandering around the kitchen, it was a pretty blatant lie.

Fortunately, something about the masks worked; after another staring contest that felt like it went on forever, the chicken turned and headed out of the kitchen.