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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL
Post-BDM. And good for everyone who doesn't like OCs. A little standalone that wouldn't go away.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 3363 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
“I'm leaving, Mal.” Jayne stood in the doorway to the bridge, his bulk filling the space.
“Figured you might.”
“You give me what you owe me, and I’ll be gone next planetfall.”
“Shiny.”
“Ain't gonna get talked out of this.”
Mal turned to look at him. “Wasn't gonna try. But you’re gonna say goodbye to that little girl. Not gonna let you just walk out of her life without you doing this right.”
For a moment there was hesitation on the big man’s face, then he nodded. “Yeah. Do it right.” He turned and strode down the steps and along the corridor, dropping into his bunk.
--
Persephone was huge in the bridge window.
“You’re really going to let him go, sir?” Zoe asked, watching her captain make a correction.
“Not my choice. He’s decided.”
“You could order him to stay.”
“I could. Not sure he’d take much notice, nor be any good to us if he did.”
“He loves her.”
“Does he.”
“You know that’s why he’s going.”
Mal shook his head. “Shipboard romances, Zoe. Don’t end well.”
“Just because of you and Inara –“
“And you and Wash. And that little girl’s gonna get over him.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Give it time.”
Zoe stared at him, wondering when he’d got so stupid.
The ramp lowered and the smell of the Eavesdown Docks slammed into the cargo bay. Zoe looked out at the passing population, and shook her head. Some planets felt better than others, but Persephone always seemed like the bottom of the pile.
Mal walked down the stairs. “Got to see Badger, get paid.”
“Yes sir.”
“Jayne ready to go?”
“His stuff’s been waiting here for two days.” She nodded down to a large holdall and a bigger green canvas sack.
“Best tell him to move it. Want to be gone from here before nightfall, and I ain't waiting on him to drag his sorry ass off my boat.”
“He knows.” She waited for him to speak again, but there was nothing more forthcoming. With a sigh she headed up the steps to her bunk and her gun.
“Seeing me off?” Jayne said from the other side, walking slowly down.
“Nope. Ain't got no abiding urge to watch you walk away.”
Jayne almost smiled. “Figured you didn’t.”
“You talked to her?”
The big man looked down at the floor. “Don’t know what to say to her.”
Mal didn’t even glance at him. “She’s been crying her eyes out this past week. I think you at least say you’re sorry.”
“She knows it.” Jayne leaned down to pick up his bags, but as he stood straight he found himself staring into the barrel of Mal’s gun.
“Told you to talk to her. Told you once. Ain’t gonna tell you again.”
“Mal, you ain’t my captain no more.” Jayne tried to move forward, but Mal was blocking his path. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“No?” The barrel hadn’t moved an inch, but the sound of the safety being removed was loud. “Only I’m the one with the pistol trained on you, Jayne. Not the other way around.”
“Could still kill you.”
“Yeah, reckon you could. But not without getting hurt yourself, and that’d make it a deal more difficult to get another job.”
“That it would.”
“Talk to her.”
“Mal, I –“
“Gonna count to five. I know you can count that high, even if you have to use your fingers.” Mal tightened his on the trigger. “One. Two. Three. Four. Fi –“
“Okay.” Jayne dropped his bags. “I’ll talk to her. But it ain't for you.” He took a deep breath and squared his broad shoulders. “Where is she?”
“Where’d you think?”
He nodded. “Be but a minute.”
“Fine.” Mal watched the mercenary head for the common area, saw him go through past the infirmary and up the stairs towards the engine room. He let a small smile lift his lips.
“Sir?” Zoe called from the catwalk above.
“Zo, do me a favour and put these bags back in Jayne’s bunk, will you?” he asked. “They’re cluttering up the place.”
“Isn’t he leaving?”
“After Kaylee’s done with him, talking and all, I don’t think he’s gonna have the strength today. And I’m pretty damn sure if he don’t go now, he ain't never gonna go at all.”
“You’re a hwoon dahn, ain't you, sir?” Zoe said, shaking her head.
“Of the very worst kind.” Mal slipped his gun into his holster and turned back to the somewhat sordid air of Persephone. “Ain’t gonna let my mechanic be miserable, Zoe. Not when I can do something about it.”
COMMENTS
Monday, November 26, 2007 9:41 AM
MISSWHATSIS
Monday, November 26, 2007 1:49 PM
COLT999
Monday, November 26, 2007 7:50 PM
NCBROWNCOAT
Wednesday, November 28, 2007 2:18 AM
AMDOBELL
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