“Kids,” Jayne grumbled as, for the fifth night running neither of the Captain’s twin sons showed any signs of wanting to sleep. It didn’t help that Kaylee was having a problem with the shuttle’s environmental controls, and both he and River were forced to sleep in the cargo bay to avoid being baked. He’d refused to go back to his old bunk, saying a mercenary needed his rest, and a crying gorram baby weren't conducive to said rest. And now there were two of them.

“They’re teething,” River said, stretching out on the mattress.

“Don’t reckon I made all that noise when I was.”

His wife looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “No?”

“Riv, you gotta stop talking to my Ma!” he complained.

“Why?” She looked so innocent, lying there, her hair all spread out around her. Like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“’Cause she knows stuff about me’d ruin my reputation!”

“I think it’s too late to worry about that,” she said, smiling widely.

“I worked long and hard for that rep, and a little thing like you just comes along and everyone thinks I'm a … a …”

“A what, Jayne?”

“A peppermint puppy with a marshmallow centre!” It was the first thing that came to mind, and as soon as he said it he wished he hadn’t.

“Does that mean I get to eat you up?” she asked, a flash of mischievousness crossing her face.

“Well, ain't no-one else I’d let do it. Not now.” He gave her his best, lascivious grin.

“That’s good.” She stretched again, then wriggled.

“What’re you doing, girl?”

“Something underneath.” She fidgeted some more until an expanse of taut, creamy thigh was exposed.

“You keep doing that and I ain't gonna be held responsible for my actions.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Doing what?”

“What you were doing.”

“What? This?” She wriggled again.

His eyes were drawn to the hemline of her slip raising ever higher. “Yeah. That’s it.” His voice had become deeper.

“And if I keep doing this …” She suited the action to the word. “… what are you going to do about it?” “I was thinking –“

“Taking into account we’re in the cargo bay.”

He growled, deep in his throat. “River …”

“Anyone could walk in,” she said, sighing sadly.

“Done it before.” His let his eyes walk up and down her body. “Lots.”

“Not when people are being kept awake by teething babies.” She moved some more.

“Then you’d better stop doing that.” He rolled away from her, away from the temptation.

“There’s something under the mattress.”

“No, there ain't.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there ain't.”

“I'm saying there is.”

He rolled back. “Girl, I checked ‘fore I put it down. There ain't nothing under except the deck.”

She glared at him. “Might be a pea.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hair. “A what?”

“A pea.”

“What the ruttin’ hell’re you talking about?”

“There might be a pea under the mattress. Like in the fairy tale.”

He exhaled loudly. “Fairy tale,” he scoffed.

She hit his arm. “A princess in disguise is invited to stay the night in a lonely castle, but her host doesn’t believe she is just a lowly traveller, and makes her up a bed with the softness of mattresses, piled high one upon the other. But underneath, right at the very bottom, he places a pea. Next morning she complains she couldn’t sleep because of the lumps in the bed, and he accuses her of being a princess.”

“That some kinda insult?”

“No.” She lay back and closed her eyes, stretching her arms above her head, the simple movement exaggerating her breasts. “Instead she realises she loves him and they marry and live happily ever after.”

Jayne’s gaze didn’t move above nipple level. “’Cause she could pee through a mattress.”

She sighed. “You’re a philistine.”

He chuckled. “Figure that’s why you love me.”

She looked at him. “Probably.”

“Aw, hell, River, I'm dying here.” He took her hand and placed it on his crotch. “Less’n I get to do something about it, I'm gonna burst.”

“Can’t,” she said. “Too many people still awake.”

“Then …” His eyes glittered.

“What are you thinking, my love?” she asked, snaking her hand down his chest. “And is it sinful?”

“Prob’ly.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear.

Her mouth turned into a pretty ‘O’. “And it does lock,” she said softly.

“Game?” he asked.

“Game.”

---

Mal, standing in the common area and jiggling his first born (or maybe it was his second born – sometimes even he couldn’t tell them apart), looked up at the sound of what seemed to be an animal in pain coming through the com system.

Except for the fact that he didn’t allow pets on board Serenity (no matter how often Kaylee brought home stray kittens), he’d have sworn it was a dog howling. Then the howl broke up into words.

“God, Riv … you keep doing that and I’ll …”

Luckily what he would do was drowned out by the sound of kissing. At least Mal hoped it was kissing.

Contemplating going to his bunk and fetching his gun, and only stopping himself by virtue of the fact that Zachary (or possibly Daniel, he wasn’t too sure) was too young to see his father murder anyone, he strode out into the cargo bay. It was empty.

“Cap, what is that?” came something of a sleepy voice behind him, and he glanced round. Kaylee was standing in the doorway, a sheet wrapped around herself like a toga. Simon stood next to her, scratching his head and yawning, clad only in a pair of pyjama bottoms.

“See someone could get to sleep,” Mal muttered irritably, then looked up into Serenity’s superstructure as Jayne’s voice – it had to be Jayne – sounded again.

“You stay like that. I’m just gonna …”

River – please God let it be River – laughed throatily.

“Mal?” Simon asked, blushing very visibly.

“You go on back to bed. I’ll deal with this.” He was up the stairs and through the top doorway before he realised he could have asked Kaylee to look after Dan (or Zach) and picked up his gun. Still, too late now. Especially as the com was spouting something that would be considered obscene in polite circles. Actually, even in some of the circles he was known to frequent.

Gaining the upper corridor he glanced along to the galley, seeing his wife standing in the doorway with Zach (or Dan) in her arms, and Zoe’s hatch was opening.

“I'm dealing, I'm dealing,” he said quickly, hurrying up the steps to the bridge. With a single tug he opened the door. “What the hell do you two think you’re …” His mouth dried up.

Jayne glared at him from the pilot’s seat, while River grabbed her dress and held it in front of her from her position on top of the console.

“What?” the big man demanded.

Mal belatedly thought to turn away slightly, hiding the sight from his impressionable son’s eyes. And his own. “You put your clothes back on right now,” he said, so firmly it could have been carved in granite. “Both of you.”

“We ain’t doing nothing.”

“From where I'm standing it looks like you’re doing plenty. And the rest of the ship can hear you.”

River’s eyes widened, then she looked down. So that was what had been digging into her left buttock.

“But we were only –“ Jayne went on doggedly.

“I know what you were only doing.” Mal glared at him, then looked away quickly. “Just get dressed and go … do something else.”

“Mal …”

“That’s an order.”

Jayne stood up, finding being walked in on by an irate man carrying a baby almost as dousing as a bucket of cold water. He picked up his pants and pulled them on, barely making sure they were done up. “Ya know how to kill a party,” he complained.

“You shouldn’t be partying on the bridge. My bridge, as I've pointed out before.”

“Mal, that’s getting old.”

“You do this again and you won’t be.”

Jayne tossed his T-shirt over his shoulder and snagged his boots with the other hand. “C’mon, River. Even the shuttle’s better’n this.”

River slid her slip back on over her head and stood up. “I thought you locked the door,” she murmured.

“I thought you did.”

“Oh.”

“Out,” Mal said.

“We’re going. Don’t get your panties in a bundle.” Jayne stepped towards the door, River in tow, her head down.

Mal glanced at the controls. “River.”

His voice stopped her. “Yes, Captain?”

“Good choice, calling me that. Since it looks to me like we’re more’n a little off course and headed out into the middle of nowhere and next week.”

She hurried back to the console and sat down, making Mal wince as he imagined the seat was still warm. “Sorry,” she whispered, resetting their co-ordinates and making the stars whirl by outside the bridge window. Checking the autopilot was engaged, she stood up, finding Mal at her elbow.

“You know that list of yours?”

“Mmn?”

“I think there’s gonna be an extra rule added, don’t you?”

River looked into his face and pouted slightly. “It’s not my fault if …” She was what was in his eyes, and in his mind, and nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

“Good girl. Though I’d say evidence suggests you ain’t good.”

“Hell, Mal, she’s more’n –“

A glare at the mercenary shut him up. “Now, you two’d better leave ‘fore I decide you’re both on septic vat duty for the next year.”

“Going,” Jayne promised, grabbing River’s hand and pulling her out into the corridor.

“Gorram shipboard romances,” Mal muttered.

“I know,” Jayne whispered as they reached the stairs. “How ‘bout the infirmary? No-one likely to go in there tonight.”

River looked unsure. “I don’t know …”

“Go on. Give you something else to think about next time your bro sticks you with a needle.” He grinned. “And I ain't intending not finishing what I started.”

She gazed at him, then her lips curved. “Race you,” she said, on her heels and away before he could get a head start.

The sound of his bare feet thudding down the stairs faded to nothing.

“Did you hear that?” Mal asked, his mouth open in shock as he joined his wife in the galley. “They’re planning on sullying my infirmary now.”

His wife smiled. “Simon thinks it’s his.”

Mal shook his head. “Only way I’m gonna get through this night, considering it’s his territory they’re defiling, not mine.” He sighed. “They’re enough to try the patience of a saint.”

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“You’re standing up for ‘em?”

“No. But haven’t you noticed? Listen.”

Mal lifted his head, turning it slightly to catch any noise. “Can’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.” She looked down at the little boy in her arms, fast asleep, his thumb in his mouth.

“Hey …” Mal stared, then glanced down at their other son, also out for the count, identical digit between his lips. “Well, I’ll be …”

“Perhaps we should try it, next time.” She twinkled at him.

“What, you mean have sex so they can hear?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re an evil, evil woman,” he chided.

“But you love me.”

“Can’t figure out why.”

A.N.: Yes, I know I should be writing BROKEN, but this just slipped into my computer and wrote itself. Jane