Don't Like Losing
Monday, June 26, 2006

Jayne does a little thieving and finds that there is no easy money. Written for the Friday Challenge "grudge".


Disclaimer: All things Firefly/Serenity are the property of Whedon et al. and I'm not making any money. Just playing with his toys.

Setting: pre-series

Spoilers: some

The place reeked. Jayne Cobb hadn’t smelled nothin’ this bad not ever. Everywhere he turned, that gorram pond bubbled up and exploded the most noxious venom known to man. Brought tears to his eyes.

“Reckon I need six bullets or five?” He slipped the ammo into each compartment, the sound satisfying to his ears.

“Hard t’say. Depends on how easy they go down.” The smaller man shook his head. “If they’s like the rest, won’t need more’n four.” He clicked the barrel of the shotgun into place and hefted it over his right shoulder. Facing his partner, he grinned toothily. “Let’s go get us some coin.”

With a nod, Jayne followed, his partner’s shotgun blast making small work of the double-doors into the mansion. Men rushed to the entrance, but were blown down by Jayne’s new toy of concussion grenades. Picked ‘em up back on Boros, thinkin’ they was nice payment for a job the dealer decided he didn’t want t’pay for.

Once cleared, both men strode confidently through the main level right to the back where the vault was located. The partner huffed loudly. “Only a tightass richypants would hide his money in a wall safe covered by some queer painting of a lady with only part of a smile. He pulled that down and entered the open code sequence. Twisting the handle, it hissed and revealed a small amount of cash. “Ta ma de! What in hell’s the deal?”

Jayne now stood behind. “Dumbass! You said this was good. Easy money.” He twisted his head to the large window and fired, killing the security guard. Three left.

His partner frowned. “Gotta be a cover. Can’t be all, not with this fancy.” He frantically searched the wall, the painting and back in the small vault. His fingers glided over a knob that he turned. Jerking his hand away quick, the wall rotated outward leaving room for a body to pass behind. There, sitting pretty like, were five large boxes. Using his second shotgun cartridge, he tore into the box and yelped. “Fuck! The mother load.” His hands dove into the currency, pulling up five hundreds and thousands. “Must be enough t’buy this whole gorram moon!” The money fell through his fingers like feathers, light and plentiful.

“Get the mule round back. Quick!”

Jayne ran out and a minute later, both were piling on the boxes and hightailing it through the bamboo woods to the hidden ship.

Only after the money’d been loaded did anyone else find them. Barely having shut the doors, Jayne felt the small shuttle lurch as his partner took off. He grinned. Easiest money! Maybe get himself a real classy whore and a good meal.

Jayne strode to the only other chair in the bridge and slapped his partner’s shoulder. “Ha! Good deal.” He fell heavily into the seat.

“Get yer gun!” his partner ordered.

“How come?”

“Idjit! Just do it.” He swerved the shuttle to avoid a small rocket that barely missed their underside. Jayne didn’t need to be asked a third time. Seconds later, he opened the rear hatch and was firing wildly. Guess I needed more’n four, he thought sardonically.

Despite his sharpshooting, Jayne couldn’t take down the rocket launcher. He fell back against the opening, cursing vehemently. Smelling the smoke, he knew they was in trouble. He closed the hatch and ran forward. “What now?”

“Dump everything. Chairs, supplies, food. All. Get it out. We’re losin’ sky.” Sweat beaded his forehead as his arms shook from the strain of trying to keep the getaway shuttle from falling.

Even with the shuttle stripped bare, their personal effects too, it was a useless effort. They was still too gorram heavy to break atmo and reach the ship.

“Shit!” he swore under his breath. “Goin’ down.” He looked to Jayne. “Guess this is the end, Partner.”

Jayne’s eyes narrowed. “Yep.” Pulling his revolver quick, he shoved it into his partner’s ear. “Git out.”

His eyes widened. “We’re a hundred feet up!”

“Ain’t losin’ the cash.” He cocked the gun, its soft whine very loud.

“Jayne, now come on. We been doin’ good as partners. Ya just don’t turn a man in when it gets a bit shaky.”

Jayne pushed the barrel further. “Ain’t losin’ the cash,” he repeated. A warning beeped from the console that the shuttle was coming in too fast to the ground.

The men eyed each other. A fist came up to Jayne’s face, knocking him momentarily off balance. His partner reached for his sidearm only to remember that he’d opted to pack it in his bag rather than carry it. Figured the shotgun would be enough.

Figured wrong as Jayne’s gun butt slammed into his temple.

Jayne looked down from the cockpit window. Coulda survived the fall, he reasoned. Probably weren’t no more’n fifty feet up when he dumped him. Sure, that’s survivable. He shrugged. Wasn’t planning on comin’ back to this moon. Even if he did, Stitch wouldn’t hold no grudge. He woulda done the same if’n he thought of it sooner.

Figuring that the crew of the ship would be none happy on his returnin’ solo, Jayne had shoved fistfuls of money into his pockets and down his boots. He then thought on his next career move. Heard of some guy named Marko who was lookin’ for a hired gun.



Monday, June 26, 2006 4:39 PM


Loved this story. I thought you Jayne voice was dead on. Mucho love for the Hero of Canton

Monday, June 26, 2006 5:42 PM


Good times. I love backstories. Written several myself.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006 8:26 AM


Well done, AP!


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