Title: That Which Shapes A Man Chapter Seven: Back to Sunderland

Author: hisgoodgirl Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. Just one woman’s take on the story. Characters: Jayne/Kaylee, Mal – consider it my AU if you have issues with the pairing or timing Warning: PG-15 Setting: About the time of “Those Left behind” Word count: 1,945; chapter seven of thirteen.

A/N: From the first time I watched Firefly, I wondered what circumstances might have shaped the character of Jayne Cobb, an exceptionally complex man. The given name "Jayne" was a common variant of "John" in Victorian England. This story emerged from the questions I asked.

Thanks to ArtemisPrime for beta. Italics represent internal dialogue, emphasis, Chinese phrases. Reader comments are sincerely appreciated.

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Chapter Seven: Back to Sunderland

As she often does, Kaylee awakens early. Jayne’s dead to the world, sprawled out flat on his back and snoring like a freight train. She’d spent a futile half-hour clinging to the edge of the futon once they lay down, then gave up and curled up on the deck with a spare blanket and pillow. It was not a pleasant night.

The mechanic studies the large form that occupies her bunk. No way he’s gonna be gettin’ up any time soon, she reasons and quickly dresses, grabs her flip flops and quietly climbs out of her bunk, closing the hatch. Guess I’ll go grab some tea an’ git to work on tunin’ up m’ girl and fixin’ that rickety pump.

***

Jayne wakes up cold and alone. His head feels like someone has packed it with wet wool and broken glass. His tongue’s stuck to the roof of his mouth and tastes atrocious. The bunk under him feels all wrong and he slowly opens blurry eyes to find himself looking up at Kaylee’s exuberant pink party dress.

“Gou zao de! What th’ hell?” he mutters. He slowly sits up and groans at the throbbing pain in his head and battered right hand. “Guess I musta tied one on last night, 'though I don’t know how I wound up down in Kaylee’s bunk. Wonder where she went?” he asks himself.

After a few minutes, it all begins to come back to him. He remembers the note and finds it crumpled in a pocket of his pants, then spreads it out and stares at the words.

Mattie was dead.

Said so in Wash’s bold black printing. Jayne vaguely remembers asking Kaylee to find him some liquor and the restless night that followed, remembers following the girl down here after getting sick somewhere.

His own stink assaults him.

No wonder she left. Guess I better git myself cleaned up, ‘specially if I’m gonna ask Mal to let me borrow the shuttle.

He gingerly stands up, wondering why his butt’s sore. Up Kaylee’s ladder and across the corridor, then down his own. He winces at the mess and takes a few minutes to straighten up, then grabs a mostly clean towel, his shaving kit and a change of clothes and heads for the shower.

***

“Cap’n, can I have a word with ya?” Jayne sticks his head through the doorway onto Serenity’s bridge. Mal’s lounging in the pilot’s seat, drinking his morning tea, his boots propped on the control bank, studying the gaudy lights and structural chaos of the Space Bazaar visible through the ship’s viewscreen. To Mal, it looks a bit like a hornets’ nest, with ships constantly coming and going, docking and taking off.

“Oh, hey, Jayne.” Mal stands up awkwardly. “I’m, uh, I’m sorry about your brother.”

Jayne looks down and nods. “Thanks.” Silence. “That’s what I come to talk to ya about. The funeral’s on Sunday. Guess I oughtta be there.”

“Best I recall, you ain’t been home in a long time.” Mal crosses his arms and studies his mercenary. “That so?”

“Yeah. Been a stretch.”

Mal nods silently. “You know, Jayne, Sunderland ain’t much out of the way. We could stop off on our way comin’ back from Newhall, maybe all pay our respects.”

The big mercenary looks up sharply.

“I ain’t sure that’s such a great idea, Mal, ‘though I appreciate the offer. Got reasons I’d rather do this alone.” He scratches somewhat nervously at the nape of his neck. “I know we got this job comin’ up transportin’ whisky between Bethany and Newhall but I was wonderin’ if you could do without me for a couple of days, maybe let me use the spare shuttle. ‘Course, I’d pay for the fuel an’ all…”

Mal raises an eyebrow skeptically. “An’ what’s to keep you from disappearin’ with my shuttle, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

Jayne looks hurt.“Wouldn’t do that.” He pauses. “‘Sides, you got my girls here, ‘specially the best one.”

“You’re leavin’ Vera as collateral?” Mal’s dumbstruck.

“Damnit, Mal, I meant Kaylee!”

***

The heavy tread of Jayne’s boots resonates through the aft corridor. “You in there, Kaylee?” he calls out.

“Yep.” She pushes herself out from under the main hydraulic pump and wipes the sweat off her face with the back of her forearm. “Gorram thing’s worked free on me again. Gets to vibratin’ and just jiggles itself loose. I can’t seem to get the bolts tight enough.”

She looks up at the man who towers over her. He’s showered and shaved and changed into clean clothes, but his skin is sallow and his eyes still hold a flicker of pain in their steel blue depths.

“How are you managin’ this mornin’?” she asks him tentatively.

The merc looks away. “Alright, I guess.”

He kneels down beside her and holds out his hand. “Gimme the wrench, an’ I’ll fix it.”

Kaylee smiles softly as she hands him the tool, remembering the circumstances that led to their first lovemaking. “Ain’t this what got us hookin’ up to begin with?”

Jayne looks up at her as he shinnies under Serenity’s engine. “Yep. Not a bad thing, to my way a thinkin’.” The big merc grunts as he torques the bolts down hard. “Not so sure how you feel about it, ‘though.”

“Why’d you say a thing like that?" Kaylee crosses her arms over her bosom, pouting prettily. “You gotta know I love you, Jayne.”

He squirms free and sits up, reluctantly resting the wrench lightly on her knee.

“Maybe I best not give that back to ya. Might decide to bean me with it.” He traces her cheek with the rough edge of his thumb. “My point was, I know I ain’t the easiest hún dàn to get along with…”

“And you snore.”

“I snore?” Jayne looks like a kicked puppy.

“And you take up more’n your share of the bunk,” Kaylee scolds.

“Well, babygirl, I can’t help that. ‘Case you ain’t noticed, I’m a sight bigger’n you.”

He reaches up and drags her onto his lap, the wrench clattering onto the deck grating. Her warm softness against his chest comforts him.

Kaylee turns and straddles him, leaning into the support of his hands, strong against the small of her back. “I’m awful sorry ‘bout Mattie, Jayne.”

“Yeah, darlin’. Me, too,” he murmurs sadly.

She leans close and kisses him tenderly.

***

“Kaylee!” Mal calls out. “You got that gorram pump secured yet?” He storms through the hatchway and skids to an abrupt halt.

“Whoa there! Jayne, I thought you was packin’ for Sunderland.” Mal glares at his mercenary. “Last thing I need to see this mornin’ is you two tongue-sparrin’ in my engine room.”

“Just givin’ Kaylee a hand, Mal…” Jayne explains mildly as a fiercely blushing Kaylee clambers off his lap.

Mal shakes his head fervently. “Not up here you ain’t!” He scowls at the girl. “Mei mei, you got that pump finished?”

“Jayne fixed it.”

“Well, then, give the spare shuttle a quick goin’ over so he can take it home later today.”

He turns, calling back over his shoulder as he marches off down the corridor, “An’ no more messin’ around in my engine room, dong ma? Between the two of ya, you’re like to short out all my ‘lectrics.”

Kaylee and Jayne look sheepishly at one another and struggle not to burst out laughing, then the merc’s features turn solemn.

“That’s what I came in here to tell ya, Kay. I’m goin’ home for a few days, on account a Mattie’s funeral an all, but I’ll meet back up with y’all late on Monday, after the whisky job.”

“Ain’t you gonna take me along?” Kaylee climbs off of Jayne’s lap and her voice takes on a whine that makes Jayne cringe. He’s been afraid of this. No way he wants anyone accompanying him on this trip, not knowing what might await him back on Sunderland.

“T’ain’t a matter of not wantin’ you with me, babygirl,” he soothes. My ma’s house is real small, and there’s no way she’d let us share a bed, bein’ we ain’t married. Got no idea where I’ll wind up stayin’, so it’s just better fer me to do this by m’self.”

Kaylee looks at him skeptically. “You ain’t got no business makin’ this trip alone, Jayne. Besides, I been wantin’ to meet yer family an’ I’d like ta pay my respects.”

The merc shakes his head no. “Another time, darlin’.” He stands up and holds out his hand to the mechanic. “C’m on. Let’s go find some breakfast. Or lunch. Or whatever it’s time for.” He turns to go.

“Oh no you don’t!” Kaylee stamps her foot in frustration. “This ain’t settled, Jayne Cobb.” She lunges and grabs his shoulder. “ Look at me, gorrammit!”

Drained and faintly exasperated, the big man turns back to her. “I’m lookin’. So, what ain’t settled, girl?”

“You ain’t never even told yer Ma about us, have ya? That’s why you don’t wanna take me home with ya!”

Kaylee’s face is flushed with anger, her voice clipped and tight. She braces her fists on her hips, looking for all the world like an angry terrier. “Ni juede wo hen ben ma?” she snaps at him.

Jayne just shakes his head and sighs deeply, then runs a hand back through his tousled hair. “I ain’t gettin’ into this now, sweetheart. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with what I have or haven’t told my Ma about us, an’ it ain’t ‘cause I don’t want you along.” He hooks a strong hand around the back of her neck and pulls her close, then bends and kissed the crown of her head. “I got good reasons and you just gotta trust me.”

***

“The one ruttin’ time the boat’s full a booze, I gotta be somewhere’s else,” Jayne grouses, his jacket slung over one wide shoulder.

Mal grins at him. “Safer that way, I s’pose.” He’s got the thumb of one hand stuck in the waistband of his trousers and clasps his suspenders with the other. “Surely works out handy that Chester Benning’s got another load of ore needs haulin’, so we’ll just unload his whisky, load up the ore an’ do a quick turn around the block.”

He studies his mercenary. Only Jayne’s subdued manner gives any indication of the big man’s state of mind. “You sure you don’t want the Shepherd or someone along with you? Not like I need him on a whiskey run and I thought you might be grateful for the company, all things considered.”

“Nah. Best do it alone. I ‘preciate you lettin’ me take the shuttle, ‘though.” Jayne glances away, then meets Mal’s eyes. “I’ll meet you in orbit at 1200 on Monday.”

“Good enough.”

Kaylee solemnly stands off to one side near the shuttle hatch. Jayne turns to her. “Well, darlin’…”

The girl’s lip is trembling and it’s clear that she’s struggling not to cry again. She steps close and clasps the big man’s arm. “I give her a good tune-up for ya. She’ll fly steady, you don’t make the fuel mix too rich. The steerin’ jets just been reamed out and I adjusted the aft manifold.” She gulps. “An’ you make sure the docking clamps is all disengaged ‘fore you take off…”

Jayne’s face is still and grave as he studies the woman he adores, who so clearly wants to come with him and just can’t. He softly brushes her cheek. “Hush up, now, girl. I was flyin’ before you were born.” Not caring who sees, he bends and softly kisses her.

“I’ll see you Monday.”

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Chapter seven of thirteen