Title: That Which Shapes A Man

Chapter Thirteen: Welcome Home

Author: hisgoodgirl

Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss. Just one woman’s take on the story. Rating: PG-17 for sexual situations, profanity Pairing: Jayne/Kaylee Setting About the time of "Those Left Behind" Word Count: 3,208; Final chapter 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. This story emerged from the questions I asked.

Thanks to my excellent beta, ArtemisPrime. Click on my name, above, to read the previous chapters. Your comments are sincerely appreciated. Thanks!

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Chapter Thirteen: Welcome Home

Kaylee hears the clank of the docking clamps latching onto the shuttle and the little craft powering down. The delay as Jayne goes through the shutdown sequence seems interminable and she’s almost beside herself when she finally hears the deep metallic scraping of the hatch unlatching. The door swings wide and her man ducks through, unprepared for the armful of woman that launches at him.

“Whoa, babygirl!” he exclaims as she flings her legs around his middle and wraps her arms around his neck. Fortunately, he’s not carrying his gear and he cups his big paws under her bottom, easily supporting her weight as she kisses him full on.

“Ai ya! Lemme breath, honey…” he pleads as he comes up for air. The merc looks over her shoulder to see Mal standing in the corridor behind them, his eyes closed in distress, thumb and forefinger clasping the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head “no” over and over.

“Put my mechanic down, Jayne. An’ gently, if you please.”

“Hey, we had a deal, Mal. Remember? You got your shuttle back. I’m claimin’ m’girl.”

* * *

Ten minutes later, merc and mechanic and guitar and duffel are all down in Jayne’s bunk. Jayne studiously surveys his quarters, brows knotted, face perplexed, while Kaylee sits cross-legged on the empty end of his bed, an unusually smug expression on her glowing face. While it appears his belongings are still present, the room gleams with unusual cleanliness.

His previously fetid space now smells of soap and clean laundry. The overflowing ashtray on the makeshift table beside his chair has been emptied and washed. His magazines are carefully stacked on the deck at the head of his bunk. Freshly laundered sheets replace the dingy ones he left behind and his bunk is now carefully made. Where once dirty clothing spilled from an overly full hamper, there are now only a few neatly stacked t-shirts.

Following his puzzled glance, Kaylee explains, “I’da put them away, too, but your locker’s all full. Oh - that last set a sheets was a mess, so I pitched ‘em in the incinerator, an’ you’ll need to buy some more when you can…”

“You did what?”

“I can loan you a set of mine in the mean time,” she offers innocently.

The merc looks pained, “But Kay, yours are pink…” He starts to unpack his duffel, then looks back up at her. “No ruttin’ way. No pink sheets! Gorrammit, girl. Do I have to worry about you flyin’ off into a cleanin’ frenzy every time I’m off the boat? First you’re junkin’ my sheets. Next time, Lord only knows what you’ll decide needs gettin’ rid of.”

He eyes her sharply. “You damn well better leave my guns alone.”

“All I did was dust ‘em.” Kaylee giggles and hangs her head.

Jayne can’t restrain his amusement. He shakes his head and chuckles. “Gorram, woman, yer gonna git me all domesticated, if’n I don’t watch out.” His expression becomes serious. “I missed ya, Kaylee. A helluva lot.”

"I missed you, too. Serenity felt plumb empty without you on-board.” Her shining face is a study in compassion as she eyes him with concern. “How’s yer Ma managin’?”

Jayne reflects a minute, scratches at the nape of his neck. “She’s tore up, but she’s a strong woman. I think I ‘bout got her convinced to go live with Rachel, my younger sister. They got plenty of room and Rachel wants her there. Probably sell the old place.” He glances down at the deck, striving to contain his emotions.

Kaylee leans closer to Jayne, as he sits on the bunk beside her, and tucks a fingertip under his chin and turns his face to hers. “An’ you?”

“I’ll be alright. Just a long four days is all.” He can see that she’s concerned about him but wants to change the subject.

He sets the duffel on its end beside his bunk and pats his thigh, holding out a big hand to her small one. “Git yourself on over here.” The girl wiggles closer. He pushes her hair back out of her face and kisses the tip of her nose playfully. “Let’s us just see what I can find in here…”

Jayne worms his hand down into the duffel, pulling out first one bundle, then a second, which he unwraps with care. “I found this in Mattie’s room. I guess he made it. Figure he’d a wanted you to have it, and the maintenance manual I got down in the bottom of the bag, too.” He holds the little Firefly model on his outstretched palm.

“Oooo! An’ it’s an aught-three, too!” She takes the tiny ship from Jayne and turns it over and over in her hands. “Look here, he’s even got the shuttles and steerin’ jets and the rear turbo spins just like she really does.” Her eyes are shining like a little kid at Christmas. “Thanks. That was real sweet of ya.” She leans forward and kisses him again, this time more lingeringly, her lips parting softly under his.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss. “Do that much, I won’t never git this all unpacked,” he tells her, pushing the first bundle aside. He hoists the bag and dumps out the rest of the stuff inside. Last of all, out flop the books.

Kaylee picks up the Firefly manual right off. “Never seen one a these. I just been figuring it out as I go. Oughtta make maintainin’ m’girl a lot easier.” She grins widely, nods at the other book. “What’s that one?”

Jayne holds it up. “Somethin’ about astrophysics and navigation. It’s all real complicated, just gobbledygook ta me. I kinda thought River might like it. You know, somethin’ to keep her from tearin’ up Shepherd’s Bible any more.” He looks a little sheepish. “I know I been right mean to the kid an’ it ain’t her fault the ruttin’ Alliance screwed up her brain.”

Kaylee is astonished. “You brung River a book as an apology? Jayne Cobb, wonders never cease!”

He mock-glares at her and shakes his finger in her direction. “You go tellin’ anybody I done it, there’ll be hell to pay. ‘Sides, “ he cocks an eyebrow, “I got my own reasons fer wantin’ to keep her occupied, and they gotta do with keepin’ my hide intact.”

The pretty mechanic leans back, inadvertently resting her hand on the other bundle. “Hey, what’s this?” She picks it up and examines it curiously.

“Hand it over, babygirl. Don’t need to go messin’ with that. It’s dangerous.” Jayne promptly takes it away from her. The secret booty is his mother’s much-loved strawberry jam and he intends to nurse the small container for as long as he can stretch it.

“Dangerous?” Kaylee lunges at him in a playful attempt to wrestle the bundle away from him and in the horseplay, the jar slips free from its t-shirt padding and falls with a thump onto his bunk.

“Strawberry jam! Jayne, you sweetheart! This is about the best surprise anybody ever gave me.” She clutches the precious jar to her bosom and grins from ear to ear. “Thank you!” she giggles.

Realizing there’s no graceful way to retrieve his precious treat, the merc smiles in a sick sort of way and almost whimpers. “Yer welcome?”

* * *

Jayne’s bed has been mostly cleared of gear, with treasures safely stowed and pistol and gunbelt hung from the hook on the bulkhead above his pillow. At this point in the process, progress starts to break down. Kaylee gathers the merc’s soiled clothes and carries them over to the now empty hamper. Dumping them into the canvas receptacle, she drops a sock and bends to retrieve it.

“Stay just like that.”

Jayne’s voice is warm and husky.

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘Don’t move.’ Just stay put like y’are for a minute.”

With the rogue sock clutched in one hand, Kaylee holds her position and grins, knowing that the merc’s ogling her softly rounded posterior, well defined by the snug overalls she’s chosen.

“Mmmm. Now that’s a sweet sight.”

She wiggles her rump provocatively, glancing back at him from her inverted view.

“So, you gonna just sit there a’lookin’ or y’got somethin’ else in mind?” she teases. “Ain’t gettin’ to Boros for five days. Ship’s runnin’ smooth and dinner ain’t for a good six hours…”

“Oh, I’m startin’ to come up with some… ideas.” His voice is low and suggestive, in keeping with the wry grin on his mischievous, handsome face. “How’s about you git yer pretty self back over here, ma shong?”

Kaylee flips the sock into the hamper and crosses the small space in a few steps as the big merc starts to unbutton his shirt. She grabs his wrists to pull his hands away from the shirt and he lets her. “Now, hold, “ she orders.

“Hold what?”

“Still, silly.”

Familiar with the little mechanic’s games, Jayne plays along, standing with his hands outstretched and a smirk on his face. She steps up kissing close, grinning impishly, and undoes his second button. Ai ya, she smells good. Looks real fine, too.

“Hey, you got yerself all fancied up.” Women like it when you notice such things.

“Shhh.” She puts her finger to her lips and then reaches up and softly traces his mouth.

“Mmmm.”

Okay, so he can’t talk but he can still appreciate, and that headstrong part of him south of the border is taking notice. Kaylee slips the next button loose and stretches up on tiptoes to moistly nibble at his throat. She smiles to herself at the audible catch in his breath. With small, deft hands she tugs his shirttail loose from his pants and then unbuckles his belt. The slow, deliberate teasing takes all the willpower she has, but she has a hunch the results will be worth it.

Two more buttons undone and he’s breathing a little heavy. So’s she, especially when she sees the way his diao is straining at the front of his trousers. She leans sideways, turns the rheostat that dials down the lighting, then peels his shirt back off his shoulders and down his arms, tossing it behind her.

Oh, Sweet Buddha, he’s so swai, scars and all. Taut abdomen, heavily muscled chest leading to powerful shoulders and arms to die for. In the cool atmo of the ship, his nipples are hard, dark points nearly hidden in the golden-brown hair that furs his chest, trails downward toward his groin.

She stands close, looks up at him with wide dark eyes, her lower lip nipped between her front teeth. Jayne’s lapis eyes are glassy, his lips softly parted and dry. He unconsciously licks them and she can feel that tongue all the way to her throbbing nethers.

What next? Oh yeah, boots. The pants don’t come off without the boots coming off first. She drops to her knees in front of Jayne and the merc gulps audibly. Boots are the last thing on his mind at that moment.

“Pick up your foot.” She slips the boot and sock off, grateful these are his dress boots, and not the lace-up combat clunkers he usually wears. “Now, t’other one.” He obliges, hoping she’ll get on with things.

Instead of rewarding his cooperation as he hopes, she stands again. Jayne’s not much of one for taking orders, even from a sexy woman, and at this point his libido over-rides his cooperative spirit. All she can blurt out is “Ja…” and his arms have captured her, his mouth devouring hers. He breaks from the kiss, leaving her breathless, and bends to her neck, the sharp, wet heat of his mouth sending electric jolts to her moistening core.

Was a time they admired one another from afar, a time when weeks separated their secretive couplings. Now, four days apart from each other and it’s all they can do to struggle out of their remaining clothing. Jayne grabs the front of Kaylee’s coveralls and yanks so that the snaps separate in a rush of pops, then shoves the garment down around her hips. She fumbles hurriedly at his fly and tugs at his trousers, then kicks off her pink jelly shoes and steps free of her encumbering garment. He strips out of his pants and grabs her to him, the force of his embrace knocking her breath from her. There will be time for tenderness, for the slow kindling of mutual desire. But not now, not this time.

Their mouths seek union, tongues engaging lustily. His work-hardened hands explore her sturdy form, sweep down her back to squeeze the globes of her buttocks.

Kaylee rises on tiptoes, her fingertips raking his back as she presses her belly against his staff. Breathlessly, she murmurs into his chest, “Don’t make me wait, Jayne.”

He yanks the blanket and sheet loose and flings it back. “Lay down.” His voice is thick with need.

She falls back onto the futon. Her hair spreads in a thick, curling corona across his pillow, and her arms reach for him as he kneels, rampant, between her upraised knees.

The merc supports himself on strong arms and bows his otter-sleek head to tease her breast. His tongue rasps the rosy areola, then draws the thickening nipple against the roof of his mouth, tugging rhythmically. It is as if an invisible cord connects the sensitive flesh to her center and she groans and squirms with pleasure, moisture pooling between her thighs. She reaches nimble fingers to his chest, rewarded by a hiss of pleasure. Jayne grasps her wrists, slides his palms to hers and pins her hands above her head. He leans into her, rocking the hardness of his diao against her mound.

“A shen!” Kaylee whimpers, arching her hips so that he lodges in her cleft. “Wo yu wang ni…”

“Well, you got me, darlin’, you got me.”

* * *

Kaylee waits for her breathing to slow, the sense of loss tangible as Jayne slips from her body. She sags forward, resting her body upon his, her head tucked beneath his chin. “Mmmm. That was real nice, “she murmurs lazily.

A self-satisfied grin spans his flushed face. “Told ya the second round would last a lot longer.” He drags the sheet over them and wraps one big arm around her shoulders. Once again, her hair’s slipped down across her face and he tucks it back with his free hand, tenderly caressing her cheek.

He wiggles a little under her, shifting his sweat-slick body into a slightly more comfortable position. “Ai ya, it’s good to be home…” he whispers as his sated body sags toward sleep.

Kaylee raises her head and looks at him in astonishment. “W-what did you say?”

“Huh?”

“You said, ‘It’s good to be home’.”

He yawns. “Yeah. It is.”

“So you’re sayin’ you think of Serenity as ‘Home’?”

He slides over toward the bulkhead where The Girls are mounted under their concealing hanging and dumps her onto her back beside him. His expression implies the answer to her question is self-evident.

“Well, o’course. You’re here, ain’t’cha?”

She stares up at the ceiling, contemplating the implication of this revelation and smiles to herself.

“Shiny!”

* * *

Back on Sunderland…

Annalee Cobb sits in her quiet house, sorting over the events and conversations of the past few days. Next weekend the girls will come to help her pack up the mementos of a lifetime, in preparation for her move to Rachel and Wallace’s house. The long evening drags on and she decided she needs something to do.

Rising from her chair, she pulls open the bottom drawer of her dresser and takes out a new skein of yarn, a lovely mottled rose color.

“He said she loves pink.” She fingers it and deems it soft enough, then takes out a pair of needles and returns to her chair. “Been savin’ this fer somethin’ special. I guess my Jayne’s girl is special enough.”

Pausing for a minute, she gives thought to her project, then begins to cast on for a scarf. “And when I’m done with this’n, I’ll knit her a hat, too. Every child a mine needs a hat…” she murmurs.

* * *

In Serenity’s tiny galley, Shepherd Book, assisted by River, prepares the evening meal. A fragrant meatloaf steams on the counter and fresh rolls are ready to brown in the ship’s tiny oven. The Shepherd tries to think of tasks to give the girl that aren’t likely to result in unexpected outcomes. Her “Noodles of Fire” have become a legendary part of the ship’s lore.

He smiles and hands the girl a colander containing a pile of emerald florets. “Here, River, you can rinse these off.”

As she turns to the small sink, Mal wanders in from the bridge and surveys the teamwork. “I could smell that meatloaf all the way up in the cockpit, Preacher,” he proclaims with an expectant smile.

The captain peers at River, busily flushing each stem of broccoli under the tap. ”Whatcha doin’, darlin’?”

She grins at him over her shoulder. “Watering the flowers.”

“Not tryin’ to be difficult, but I don’t see no flowers.”

“Brassica oleracea Botrytis cymosa. Broccoli. Reproductive organs are what we eat.” She points at the deep green buds forming the terminus of the vegetable. “See, Captain Dummy, flowers!”

“Well, I’ll be damned. So they are, although truth be told, I have a hard enough time eatin’ the stuff without knowin’ they’re the nether parts of the plant.”

Book pops the rolls into the pre-heated oven, takes the colander from River and dumps the now-clean broccoli into a pot of boiling water, then returns to vigorously mashing potatoes with roasted garlic. Finally satisfied with their consistency, he hands off the heavy bowl to Mal, who places it on the big table.

Other crewmembers stream in from various parts of the ship and find their places, making chitchat as they await the arrival of the remaining dishes. Mal takes his seat at the head of the table, looking somewhat warily at the platter of bright green steaming broccoli River places before him.

Last of all, Jayne and Kaylee emerge from the merc’s bunk and amble into the galley. Both have a mellow, tousled look that gives testimony to how they’ve spent the past few hours.

Shepherd Book pulls the golden brown rolls from the oven, dumps them into the bread basket and carries them to the table, taking a seat across from Kaylee.

Mal nods to his mercenary. “Good to have you back, Jayne.”

“Damn good, as a matter of fact,” Wash concurs wryly, rubbing his aching back. Zoë pats him sympathetically, all the while discretely rolling her eyes in amusement.

Jayne turns to pass the meatloaf to Kaylee only to find when he turns back that three rolls have appeared on his plate. River grins impishly.

A puzzled Simon turns to his little sister and pointedly asks, “Why does he get extra bread, mei mei?”

“Needs the stamina.”

The big merc sputters and Kaylee turns bright pink while the table erupts in high-spirited laughter.

Jayne glances around at his grinning shipmates.

Damn, it’s good to be home….

The End…for now

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Postscript: As I prepare to post the final chapter of “All that Shapes A Man,” I feel almost like I’m saying farewell to a beloved friend, perhaps because this story drew me in and moved me like no other I’ve ever written. As an artist and writer, I strive to touch and move others with what I create. It would seem that this work has succeeded at this for some of you. I sincerely thank everyone who has and will read it. Your comments and feedback have meant a great deal.

Now where from here? What does Kaylee do with Jayne’s Ma’s jam? Will he follow up on the marriage proposal? Will he dare go back to Sunderland to introduce his girl to Annalee, knowing that Bryce is gunning for him? You tell me…what do I tackle next?