Title: Noisy Neighbors 1/1 Author: hisgoodgirl

Disclaimer: All belong to Joss. They just play in my head. Characters: Wash, Zoë, Jayne, Kaylee, Mal Pairings Wash/Zoë, Jayne/Kaylee Warning: NC-17 for adult references and language, and creative use of cordage. Setting: In my AU, sometime after Kaylee had tired of Simon and decided that Jayne is more “satisfying”.

A/N: Any perceived reference to The Waltons is entirely a figment of the reader’s twisted imagination. Italics represent emphasis, Chinese phrases.

Cross-posted in my LJ. Comments are sincerely appreciated. Thanks!

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Noisy Neighbors

“Mmmmm. That was nice.” Zoë sighs and smiles lazily, easing herself free from her husband’s embrace, savoring the sweat-slick slide of dark skin on freckle-spangled light. The moments of connection and vulnerability she shares with Wash when making love are a delicious contrast to the professional persona she dons with her leather vest and gunbelt.

“That it was, that it was…” Wash slurs out, his whole body slack in the aftermath of ecstasy, waves of pleasure still rolling through him. The ginger-haired pilot’s eyes are still faintly crossed. He kisses his wife playfully on the tip of her nose and then settles back against the pillows, palm rising to cover the yawn that escapes him involuntarily. The single candle on the shelf beside their bunk flickers, edging their moist bodies in ruddy light.

As their own noisy breathing slows, the sounds from the neighboring bunk seem to build in volume. While no words can be distinguished, the cadence of Jayne’s deep voice punctuates a series of high-pitched shrieks from Kaylee that terminate in a shuddering wail. Wash and Zoë look at one another.

“Not again…” the pilot cringes, clasping his head between his splayed fingers. “This is the fourth night this week…”

A barely suppressed smile of amusement crosses the warrior woman’s face.

~*~*~

From her first visit onboard Serenity, Kaylee has proved herself possessed of an exuberant and free-spirited nature. Initially, her friskiness benefited the eager local fellas on the worlds where they docked long enough for liberty. When Simon Tam joined the crew, she flirted and fluttered about the young doctor like an light-starved moth ‘round a flame, but her crush on Simon soured as she tired of waiting for his interest to warm beyond a polite simmer.

All the captain’s warnings about the dire consequences of shipboard romances went unheard and Kaylee finally found her sexual match in the big man serving as the ship’s mercenary. When the opportunity came, she and Jayne took to one another like a spark to black powder.

Serenity’s a small ship with minimal allowances for personal comfort. Everyone expects to occasionally overhear bits of the private lives of fellow shipmates. Such a setting usually calls for a certain amount of discretion and sensitivity, both qualities the lusty couple seems to be lacking. Bad enough that they shift into a clinch given the slightest opportunity; worse yet that neither of ‘em show the slightest concern with whether they have an audience.

~*~*~

It’s not that Wash is a prude but, like Mal, he finds the increasingly heated relationship between the big mercenary and Serenity’s girl mechanic more than a little disquieting.

Jayne’s low, suggestive laugh rumbles through the vent from his bunk on the other side of the bulkhead, followed by the muted sounds of struggle.

“There, ya xiang xiao chou san ba,” he growls gleefully, “that oughtta hold ya…”

Kaylee squeals. “Untie me, you bu ren yaoguài!”

More rude laughter. “No way, babygirl. This way I can do whatever I want to ya…”

Kaylee’s moans reverberate through the ventilation ducts and Wash grimaces and finally verbalizes his concern to his wife. “You suppose she’s OK? That he’s not hurting her or anything?”

Zoë just shakes her head, listening to another ascending spiral of grunts and whimpers with an expression akin to wonder.

“Don’t sound like cries of pain to me, Husband.” The far-away look in her dark eyes suggests she’s envisioning whatever activities are generating the passionate vocalizations.

Wash finds Zoë’s attention to the activities of their neighbors unsettling and sits up abruptly, crossing his arms across his chest in a manner that makes clear his irritation. He shoots her a sharp, disapproving glare and snarks, “I never took you for an voyeur, Sweetcakes!”

Zoë laughs at Wash’s obvious discomfort. “That’s not it at all.” She shakes her head, her face reflecting her candid wonder. “I’m just curious how he manages to keep her comin’ like that half the night.”

The hint of awe in her voice suggests to Wash the possibility that his wife might find his stamina inadequate by comparison to the big mercenary’s. Pride wounded, he huffs, “That’s it. I’ve had it. It’s bad enough we gotta try to sleep with all that caterwauling going on, but I am NOT prepared to have you comparing my talents in the boudoir with that oversexed gorilla next door.”

Zoë struggles not to snicker. “Feeling a little inadequate, Lambie toes?”

Wash pouts. “Well, you never complained before…”

She can’t decide if he’s hurt or sulking. “Baby, I’m not complaining now! You’re a wonderful lover.” She kisses him reassuringly. “But you have to admit, the man doesn’t seem to… tire.”

There’s a moment of relative silence, then Jayne’s voice carries over Kaylee’s frantic cries, “Wuo de ma!, Kaylee, you’re xia ai ru dì yù! I could fuck you all night long…”

Wash blanches, looks positively ill. He climbs off the end of the bunk, picks up one of Zoë’s boots and whales away on the screen over the ventilation duct, shouting back at the noisy couple, “Hey, damnit, how about doin’ us all a big favor and GET. SOME. SLEEP!”

Jayne’s laughter, underpinned by Kaylee’s giggles, booms a reply as the merc taunts him. “You all tired out already, Little Man? It ain’t like Kaylee’s goin’ anywhere. I can come over an’ give ya a hand with Zoë, if ya need it.”

Wash sputters apoplectically but before he or Zoë can react, Mal’s very irate voice resonates loudly through the ductwork.

”Gorramnit, people, cut the crap right now!”

There is immediate and abrupt silence, as if a bunch of misbehaving children have been threatened by an irate father.

“Some of us -- meaning me, the Captain of this boat -- are tryin’ to sleep. So you best all listen and listen carefully, dong ma?”

The only sound is the symphony of hums and creaks that are generated by the ship.

“Jayne, you untie my mechanic, ma shong! An’ Kaylee, you get your pigu back across the corridor to your own gorramn bunk. Next hollerin’ and carryin’ on I hear, somebody’s scrubbing latrines for a solid month. Do I make myself abundantly CLEAR?”

"Yeah, Mal."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

"Sorry, Cap’n."

"Yes, sir, Cap’n Spoil-Sport…"

From Jayne’s bunk come faint rustling noises and Kaylee’s whisper, “I told ya the knots were too tight. Go on an' cut it, Jayne – it’s just rope.”

The merc’s bunk hatch opens with a clank and the little mechanic can shortly be heard climbing up his ladder, crossing the corridor, and descending into her own bunk.

There are soft bumps and rustling noises, the noises people make when settling in for the night, the noises that precede sleep.

In the darkness comes a soft giggle.

“G’night, Cap’n.”

“Good night, Kaylee”

“Good night, Wife.”

“Goodnight, Husband.”

“Sweet dreams, Babygirl.”

“You, too, ai ren.”

“Good night, Zoë, Wash.”

“Goodnight, Sir.”

“G’night, Cap’n Tight-Ass…”

“Shut-up, Jayne.”

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The End