WASH: CONNECTING FLIGHT by AintWeJust

Chapter 5 -- Cleared for Departure

Synopsis: It's the end of the beginning of Wash's "maiden voyage." Most of the crew still needs rescuing, and their only hope is ... the Hero of Canton?

Jayne took stock of what he could see on the store's shelves, then turned back to look at the "kill zone."

'Probably shouldn't oughta call it that, not even in my head,' he thought sourly. 'Anybody gets hisself dead 'cause I wasn't careful, Mal's gonna be powerful angry, even if I save his captainy ass.'

The mercenary sighed. 'Still, it makes sense, sorta. I could git away with killin' Niska, maybe. After all, he is breakin' the law. But killin' some passing rich folk is only gonna make things worse. I don't want Feds anymore than Mal does, and that's a fact.'

Jayne set his jaw and stared at the group across the way. 'Ain't enough of a break in the crowd to shoot in a straight line. And I need to take down Niska and his people fast enough to keep 'Nara safe. That means I needs somethin' automatic, so I can fire more shots in less time. And it's gotta have stock tranks in the load set, or somethin' like 'em. I can't be makin' custom ammo here.'

"Hey," he said in a loud voice, his eyes never leaving Niska. "You got a second floor in this place?"

The merchant shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but everything above shop level is support machinery and storage."

"No high ground, then," Jayne muttered. "And no gorram windows, anyway." The mercenary thought some more, then turned his head and checked the inventory again.

Something clicked behind his eyes, and he grinned.

"I'm seein' some Riggs & Murtaugh small arms. Revolvers and such," he said, walking back towards the counter. "But I ain't seein' any of the bigger pieces."

"You mean hunting rifles, sir?"

Jayne snorted. "Yeah, hunting rifles. Somethin' for bigger game." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Like maybe the Interceptor."

The merchant's jaw dropped slightly, and a crack developed in his implacable calm. "The Interceptor, sir? For hunting? Hardly sporting, is it?"

The mercenary shrugged. "The critters I'm huntin' don't play by the rules. Don't see why I have to. 'Sides, I ain't plannin' to kill anythin'. Juss lookin' for tranks if ya got 'em. And I can't afford to wait for custom loads if you don't."

Reaching for a hand-held source box, the shopkeeper ran through the inventory. "Well, we do have a Riggs & Murtaugh Interceptor in stock. Several, in fact. Not on display, of course. Or for sale, actually. They were ordered through Alliance military supply for the security staff here."

"A sniper rifle? On a Skyplex?" Jayne shook his head, pretending to be shocked. The merchant smiled.

"If you know about the Interceptor, sir, you know how valuable its special features can be on a space station." The mercenary nodded reluctantly, and the clerk continued. "I'm sure that's why you want the rifle right now, in fact. To help out your friends across the way?"

Jayne's eye narrowed, and the merchant held up a hand and smiled. "No need for alarm, sir. I couldn't help noticing where your attention has been directed for the past several minutes, and took the liberty of scanning the area you have been examining with such intensity." He waved his arm to a monitor above the door, which was focused on the tableau across from the lingerie store.

"Those … gentlemen appear to be treating that woman and her companions quite roughly, with no concern for interference from local authorities." Jayne growled, and the shopkeeper nodded. "Just so. I surmise that the Skyplex security staff might possibly have been paid to, as the expression goes, 'look the other way?'"

Jayne hesitated a second, then nodded. The gray-haired merchant smiled. "Well, then, in the interest of promoting customer satisfaction, I believe we can authorize a very rare, on-site, hands-on demonstration of the R&M Interceptor." The mercenary had the good sense not to look too surprised, but the shop-keeper smiled anyway. "It's as much for me as it is for you, sir. I've been waiting for the chance to try out the Interceptor for quite some time, but there aren't any ranges on the Skyplex large enough – and since I'm not Alliance military personnel or station security, I'm really not allowed to fire it anyway."

He moved to a large armored storage cabinet at the back of the store, where his handprint and retinal scan identified him as authorized to remove inventory. He removed a compact gray weapon the length of his arm. It was an odd mix of high-grade plastic resins and dull gray metal, and he held it out to Jayne with what almost seemed to be pride. Jayne took it gently, finding it surprisingly light.

"Now," the merchant continued, "we don't have tranquilizer ammunition as such, but these should do quite nicely." He picked up a small metal box and a smaller box of ammunition and handed them both to Jayne. "Made specifically for Skyplex operations. I think you'll agree?"

Jayne read the writing on the box, and a slow smile grew on his face. "Yeah," he said, nodding as he smiled. "These'll do just fine. Better than fine!"

Wash stood there, the light from above turning her copper-red hair into a halo of spun fire. She knew her newly-acquired curves were silhouetted by the cockpit door, but there was nowhere else to go but forward. Although she hadn't been a woman for long, Wash knew it was a safe bet that moving her semi-naked body closer to the two hijackers wouldn't make them want her any less. They watched hungrily as the zipper on her flight suit descended as slowly as she could lower it without standing still.

'They're not a captive audience,' she thought, joking with herself to keep the panic at bay. 'They're just the audience that's keeping me captive.'

Despite River's presence in the next room, Wash felt cold, and empty, and alone. Small sparks of fear seemed to chase up and down her spine as she thought of what Teller and Beeks had planned for her. She wasn't a coward, really. She knew that much about herself. After all, Wash had gone in with Zoe in the first wave to get Mal back from Niska, and he didn't even think twice about the possibility of not coming back.

'Maybe that's part of the problem,' the pilot mused as the zipper on her flight suit reached its lowest point. 'It's knowing I'll live through whatever they do to me that makes me afraid. I just started getting used to being a woman, and the part of me that used to be Linda knows that whatever happens next is going to change how I see myself in ways I can't even imagine.'

Resigned, Wash reached up and pulled the top of her flight suit down over her shoulders, baring them, along with the green lace-trimmed bra she had struggled to put on such a short time ago.

As she heard her tormenters breathing in the darkened hallway, she knew it would be just as hard for her to take it off now as it was to put it on in Kaylee's old room.

'River,' she thought desperately as she wriggled out of the sleeves, feeling the flight suit bunching at her hips. 'Please hurry.'

Simon and Kaylee moved through the crowds as quickly as they could. The supply markets and the docking area were on opposite sides of the Skyplex, so making the trip from one to the other took them through the most populated parts of the station.

"Still nothing from the comms," Kaylee said for the fourth time since they left their captors behind. Simon kept looking for the quickest path through the throngs of shoppers.

"Mal and Zoe were going to meet Inara close to the center of the station," he replied, "so we won't need the comms if they're still at the meeting point."

"And if they're not?"

"Then we head for the ship. Because that's where Mal and Zoe would go if they picked up Inara, and if they were captured, that's where anyone who wasn't taken prisoner would head to meet up with the rest of the crew."

Kaylee looked over at her man. "That's mighty fine thinkin' there, Doctor Tam," she said with a smile. "Not too shabby for a civilized gentlemen. Just when did you become Bucky Batson, Space Ranger, anyway?"

Simon blushed and looked away. "You have a way of making a man want to be a hero for you, Miss Kaylee," he replied in a fair approximation of Mal's voice. "Best get used to it, I reckon."

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Kaylee couldn't help but laugh. "You'd best not do that in front of the captain, 'hero.'"

Simon's smile matched her own. "I will keep that in mind, missy. But Bucky Batson ain't afraid of no man, not even Captain Reynolds."

Kaylee gave the doctor a sideways look. “You’re way calm, Simon,” she said, her curiosity growing. “Confident, too. Don't get me wrong, I like it. A lot. But where did it come from?”

After a moment, Simon shrugged. “Always there, I think,” he replied. "After all, you can’t be a trauma surgeon without being calm or confident. But I guess I finally realized that I’m not as far out of my depth as I thought I was when I first came aboard Serenity. Mal showed me that."

“What do you mean?” The mechanic gave his arm a squeeze as they walked

"I figured out that being Serenity's captain is a lot like being the chief physician in an ER, in a way.” While he spoke, his eyes continued to search the crowds ahead as the two kept moving. “Because of the work we do, we often wind up in an emergency situation, and Mal usually has limited information. There’s no time to be indecisive, because seconds count, both with an injured patient and out on the Rim. So Mal looks at the options, figures out what has the best chance for success, and makes a judgment call. He’s not always right, but we’re still flying, so how wrong can he be?”

The doctor turned his head briefly and caught Kaylee’s eyes with his own. “So I learned from the captain and my own experience. Now when my corner of the Verse becomes … difficult, I make a judgement call and run with it. I do the best I can with what I’ve got.” He smiled. “Fortunately, what I’ve got right now is you. So I’m hoping I’ll do better than you’d think.”

Kaylee smiled back. “You’re off to a good start.” The she looked past Simon and gasped. “Oh my God, it’s Niska. And he’s got the Captain and Zoe … and ‘Nara.”

Without missing a beat, Simon took Kaylee’s arm and kept walking along with the flow of the crowd. He turned them both away from the scene to face a shop window across the way, and studied the situation in the reflection.

“The two … gentlemen holding Inara are there for insurance, probably to keep Mal from doing anything to stop Niska while he collects the rest of us, and probably the ship.” Simon felt his heart start to race, just a little, as he noticed the way one of Niska’s men held Inara. “The way the one on Inara’s right side is holding her … he could snap her neck almost instantly. Mal can see this, or he would have made his move by now. Zoe's been waiting on the captain to say when, but he won't. The two who grabbed us, Clive and Bucky, were probably on Niska’s payroll too.”

“So … what’ll we do?” Kaylee looked up at Simon, as he still looked at the group mirrored in the window.

“Something’s missing,” he said softly. A few seconds passed, and the doctor cocked his head. “Where’s Jayne?”

Jayne stood in the weapons shop, holding the advanced sniper rifle loosely in one hand. The Interceptor felt like a toy compared to the simpler, heavier weapons he knew best. That made him feel awkward and a little unsure. For a minute he wondered if it would just not work, like that Alliance rifle he had taken on Ariel during the escape. He shook his head.

'Riggs 'n Murtaugh … they always done right by me before,' he decided, 'Got a good rep, never had one jam on me. And I always made the shot. I ain't gonna start worryin' 'bout 'em them now, just 'cause this thing feels like a piece o' plastic pretendin' to be a gun.'

The proprietor of the shop stood across from him, also holding a loaded Interceptor. He had a barely suppressed smile on his face, as if this was the most fun he'd had in years.

"Come stand here beside me, sir," he said. "With the door propped open, this area is nothing more than a shadow from across the way. We can have a clear view of the targets without them seeing us at all."

Jayne grunted and moved over to where the storekeeper stood. Even though the man had been helpful, his happiness was downright irritatin’. Unable to stop himself, he turned to the man and leaned forward, getting right into his face.

"Listen up. This ain't no ruttin' game," he growled, his jaw tight with suppressed anger. "That's my gorram crew out there. My job is keepin' them safe, and I ain't gonna let no crazy-ass rich man have 'em just 'cause he thinks he's owed. Anybody messin’ with my family is gonna wind up on the wrong side a' trouble, an’ that’s a fact."

With a barely suppressed shock, Jayne realized what he said without even thinkin' about it, and his tirade faltered and ground to a stop. He swallowed once and went on. "So … so stop havin' so much gorram fun, and let's get this done, awright?"

The merchant felt chastened. "My apologies, sir, for taking joy at your misfortune, however inadvertent it might have been. My … need for action should in no way take precedence over the seriousness of-"

"Stow it." Jayne cut him off sharply, feeling a little ashamed of his outburst. "I know how it feels to get to fire a new piece for the first time. I'm sorry I mouthed off at ya, considerin' how you're helpin' out me and mine." He stopped short again and shook his head. "Gorram it, we better get this done 'fore I start callin' Mal Pa.”

The shop owner cocked his head, clearly confused, then nodded. "As you wish, sir. If I may suggest, the primary targets are the ones holding the woman. Since they are behind the others, they're least likely to be noticed when they are affected." Jayne nodded, and the proprietor continued. "Then the third man holding the concealed weapon and the older gentleman in charge would be in the second volley."

"Sounds like a plan," the mercenary said, his muscles getting loose thinking about finally doing something.

"Then let's make it so, shall we? I believe the expression is, 'we're burning daylight." He smiled at his reference, only to find Jayne looking at him oddly. "Apologies, sir. A reference to cinema from Earth That Was. What I meant was –"

"Yeah, I get it," Jayne growled, "we're wastin' time. So let's see if we save some folks before they die of old age."

From Bishop's Compendium of Alliance Weapons and Armaments:

The Riggs & Murtaugh Interceptor is a state-of-the-art sniper rifle, designed primarily for Alliance use during the war against the independent planets on the Outer Rim. The Interceptor uses a magnetic mass driver to propel its streamlined steel jacketed ammunition at just below the speed of sound. This makes the Interceptor almost completely silent - an important feature for a weapon designed primarily for infiltration and assassination.

Although the muzzle velocity of the Interceptor virtually eliminates the need to correct for wind or distance, the true technological advantage of the Interceptor lies in its "smart" ammunition. The onboard processor built into each round uses a combination of biometric recognition and positioning technology to "home in" on a selected target, chosen by the shooter. Once a target has been acquired by the Interceptor's AI, the mass driver is set to a slower propulsion setting, and the weapon can be fired in any direction. The projectile will then use its self-contained guidance rockets to actually change course and pursue its objective.

Although usually reserved for Alliance military personnel, a select number of Interceptors have been released by R&M and sold for use by local security personnel in major cities and on orbiting civilian platforms, or "Skyplexes." Its target acquisition capability makes it perfect for crowd control, hostage situations, and criminal apprehension, with a factory-installed self-destruct subroutine overriding operator settings to prevent a shot from piercing the hull of an orbiting platform in deep space. In certain covert situations, the self-destruct capability can be set to eliminate the projectile after it has delivered its payload, leaving nothing but a metallic dust behind to avoid any evidence that a payload has been delivered.

From a doorway about ten feet away, there came a soft short hiss. Startled, Simon turned towards the sound, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw two small … somethings … move very quickly over the crowd towards the group across the way. A split second later, there was a second hissing cough, almost lost in the Skyplex’s background noise, and this time he followed the flight path of a second pair of blurry objects as they crossed the distance almost too quickly to be seen.

Simon looked over to where Niska and his crewmates still stood. Nothing seemed to have changed. But when his eyes swung back to the doorway where the sounds and objects had originated, he saw Jayne walk out with a swagger in his step and start cutting across the crowd towards the tableau.

“Damn, he’s going to walk straight into Niska’s hands,” Simon said, grabbing Kaylee’s arm and lurching forward. “We need to stop him!”

But even as he said it, he knew they were going to be too late.

Mal felt the goon next to him move slightly, and heard something small hit the floor next to him. He turned his head just in time to see Jayne walking confidently through the crowd, a silly grin plastered across his face. A few yards behind him, the captain saw the doctor and Kaylee trying desperately to reach Jayne before he reached Niska. Mal gritted his teeth and did everything he could think of not to tip Jayne’s play – whatever the hell Jayne’s play actually was.

Jayne walked past Niska to the thug holding Inara’s neck. Niska remained frozen, with that same self-satisfied smug smile on his face. Without a pause, Jayne pulled the goon’s hand away and pushed it towards the ceiling. It remained pointed skyward, and Inara gasped. She threw her elbow deep into her captor’s stomach, and nothing but a small wheeze of air escaped his lips.

Mal took a step forward, slipping from his own minder’s grasp. The man stayed frozen where he was, a statue carved in flesh. Zoe stepped forward as well, turning to look at the still figure beside her and then back at the captain.

“Sir?” she asked, clearly confused.

Mal shrugged helplessly. “Don’t ask me, Zoe. I’m puzzled my own self.” The grin on Jayne’s face grew wider, and he stepped between Niska and one of his men and put his arms on both their shoulders.

“This is what ya might call a ruttin’ rescue,” he said, as Simon and Kaylee finally made it to where they all were standing. “Courtesy of Mister Jayne Cobb, with a little help from a gray-haired shopkeep and the latest high-tech piece o’ crap Alliance excuse for a gun.”

Simon stepped forward and circled around Niska. “He’s … they’re paralyzed!”

“Naw,” Jayne said smugly, “They just ain’t moving.” The doctor looked at Kaylee and they both sighed. Jayne went on, oblivious. “Can’t move, neither, unless we move ‘em.”

Mal looked at Jayne, trying to decide if he was hallucinating. Rescued by Jayne?

“How … how did you … ?”

“Borrowed an Alliance sniper rifle and some special ammo. Filled ‘em all full of this juice the Feds mixed up for crowd control. They don’t fall when they get hit. They juss stand right where they is 'til the purple bellies come and pick ‘em up. Throw ‘em on a truck like stacks o’ firewood.” He threw a small box towards Simon, who caught it with one hand and started reading the label.

“The drug shuts down all voluntary muscle control,” the doctor said, “for several hours, depending on the dosage and the muscle mass of the target.” He looked up at Mal. “We’re safe. For a while, at least.”

The captain looked at Simon and Kaylee. "I figured you two were caught, too. Didn't happen?"

"Oh, it happened," Kaylee said with a smile. "Two big slabs of muscle twice Jayne's size grabbed us while we was shopping. Didn't look good for a while there."

She wrapped her arm around Simon's and squeezed. "But then my man got the jump on 'em. They're still out cold in the marketplace, I reckon."

Mal eyed the doctor with a new respect. "My, my. Seems a day for miracles. First Jayne mounts a gorram rescue, and then you take down two hired men without even skinnin' a knuckle. Doctor, I am impressed."

Mal moved over to look into Niska's eyes. "Can he see? Hear me?"

Simon thought for a moment, then nodded. "Probably. There's nothing on the packaging to indicate unconsciousness as a direct result of the substance."

"Well, good. Got a few choice words to share with our friend here," Mal said with a smile. "Ain't none of them fit for mixed company."

Zoe stepped forward. "Sir? I hate to interrupt what I'm sure is going to be an entertaining display, but Niska said he was going to capture the crew and the ship. If he sent people out after Simon and Kaylee, he must have sent someone to take Serenity."

Jayne's smile dropped off of his face, replaced by a look of dread no one could ever remember seeing before.

"Linda!" He growled, and turned to disappear into the crowd.

"River!" Simon shouted, and ran after Jayne.

"Simon!" Kaylee screamed, and started after Simon.

"Kaylee, wait!" Mal started after her and stopped, torn between staying with Inara and going after his crew. The companion touched his arm, and he turned to her.

"Go, Mal," she said, looking into his eyes and squeezing his shoulder. "Take Zoe with you. I'll watch over Niska. Try and keep out of trouble."

"This bunch? Ain't gonna happen."

Inara smiled. "I was talking about you." He smiled back, shook his head, then darted forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Back as soon as I can, 'Nara."

She watched Mal and Zoe chase after the rest of the crew, then turned to the crime boss's frozen form with a wicked smile.

"Now, Mister Niska," she said sweetly. "It's time to make plain to you and your associates exactly what happens to people who threaten the lives of registered Companions."

Reaching up, she touched an ornate broach pinned over her left breast. It gave a small chirp like an indignant bird, and a melodic female voice followed immediately.

"Companions Guild, Santo Chapter. How can we be of service, sister?"

Wash was down to her bra and panties, shivering slightly in the chill breeze from the air recycler. Her nipples had swollen and grown hard from the cold, and she could see goosebumps rising on the exposed upper curves of her breasts.

Beeks had waved to her to turn around slowly, apparently so he could ogle her more efficiently. That suited Wash just fine, since it gave her another way to waste time. The deck plates were cold on her bare feet as she rotated as slowly as she could, raising her hands and trying for a half-remembered model’s stance – although whether it was Linda’s memory or Wash’s remained unclear.

'It doesn’t matter, really,' the pilot thought, pasting a flight attendant’s smile on her lips as her shuffling turn rolled her hips slightly. 'Anything that puts off the last few steps in this bizarre dance is okay in my book. I just wish River would hurry up and notice something!’

Both intruders had allowed their gun barrels to slip towards the deck, since the pilot was clearly unarmed. Teller caught the look in Wash’s eyes as she completed the turn, and smiled wide.

“Hey Beeks,” he said, “I think the lady is scared of us or something.”

“Really?” Beeks replied, his voice a model of mock astonishment. Then, in an instant, it turned into a growl. “Good. I like ‘em scared.”

Something that sounded suspiciously like a snort came from directly behind them, and both men spun around to find a very angry Jayne holding two handguns, both pointed directly at them.

“Now that’s real funny,” he said, a smile twitching at the edges of his mouth. “That’s downright HI-larious. You know why? ‘Cause I like to scare folks, too. 'Specially folks who like to scare my crew. I mean, that’s what the guns’re for, right? Well, that an' killin', and that's the really scary part, ain't it? Cause I ain't done my killin' for today yet, and I reckon I'm about due. So how about it, sah gwa? Are YOU scared?”

Beeks swallowed and nodded. Jayne grinned and cocked the pistol aimed at Beeks's head. “Well, if you’re so scared, why ain’t your gun on the deck yet? Or are you stupid, too?”

The intruder's weapon hit the metal grid with a satisfying clang, and Jayne told Beeks to kick it away, which he did. Teller watched Jayne, his smile not fading an inch. His own gun was still in his hand, and pointed up at the doorway to the flight deck.

“You next,” Jayne said, his barrel not moving an inch. Teller shook his head.

“I’ve got my gun pointed right at your pretty pilot, friend,” the thief replied with his own grin, “so maybe you’re the one who should be dropping his guns, dohn-mah?”

Jayne snorted and shook his head. “You’re aimin’ at an empty doorway, dumbass. You might want to make sure you still have a hostage before you start mouthin’ off. Ain’t that right, Linda?”

Teller’s head whipped around, just in time for his chin to collide with Wash’s fist. He spun back in the other direction, and his unconscious body hit the deck a split second before his gun did. The pilot yelped and shook her hand, fingers spread.

“Owwww!” She massaged her wrist with her opposite hand. “That wasn’t supposed to hurt me!”

“Takes practice,” Jayne said, lowering both guns with a smile. He took in the sight of an almost-naked Linda while she focused on her pain. “You gotta learn to brace your wrist afore you hit 'em. Least you kept your thumb outta your fist. That's somethin'. Ain’t too bad for your first knockout punch.”

Seeing Jayne distracted, Beeks began moving across the deck towards Teller’s gun. Suddenly, a lithe form dropped from the gridwork above and landed on his outstretched hand. Linda heard bones snap an instant before the intruder howled in pain, and turned to see River crouched on top of the screaming man.

“Oh, hush,” she said calmly, standing up without moving off of his hand while his screams dwindled to whimpering. “You’d think you’d never had a girl break your hand before.” The girl twisted her legs slightly, grinding Beeks's bones together. "Maybe that will teach you not to go reaching for your gun without permission."

Almost daintily, River stepped off the intruder's hand and kicked him in the chin, knocking him unconscious. She walked over to the door to the flight deck door and gathered up Linda's clothes, then carried them over to the pilot.

"Aren't you a little cold, Linda?" she said sharply as she thrust the pile of clothing into the girl's arms. "Go get dressed before Jayne's eyes fall out of their sockets."

The mercenary turned bright red and started to stammer. Wash put her hand out and touched his arm.

"It's okay if you look, Jayne. At least this once." Jayne turned towards her, surprise written across his face. Linda shrugged. "After all, you saved this body from these two, and they were going to do a lot more than look. So …" She started to spread her arms, and the look on Jayne's face was priceless. But before she could move more than a few inches, he put his arm out and stopped her.

"No," he said, looking only into her eyes. It was her turn to look surprised. "Truth is, this ain't about lookin' – not to me, not anymore. You're crew now, and that means I get to look out for you, and that's … well, that's good. Hell, that's my job."

He took a deep breath and pressed on. "But I want more someday. Somethin' more 'tween us, maybe. If you're willin', I mean. And if I ain't stupid enough to drive you away."

Jayne looked down at his feet, avoiding her eyes for fear of seeing what she felt. "Ever since I met you, I want to be better. I want to be more than I been before, so maybe you'll want to get to know me. But if I act like that … if I treat you like they did, even a little … that makes me like them, don't it? And that ain't how I want you seein' me. Not now, not ever."

He turned away. "So you go get your clothes on, and I'll finish what I started." Jayne bent down and picked up both men by the backs of their suits, like a pair of suitcases.

"You … you aren't going to kill them or anything, are you?" Linda's voice was a trifle shaky. Jayne's reply was a snort and a shake of the head.

"These two ain't worth the lead," he said, walking back towards the cargo bay. "I'm juss gonna bring 'em someplace they can think about what they did, and what they was gonna do." Then he snorted again, and started laughing out loud. They could hear him clattering down the metal stairs.

Mal caught up to Simon and Kaylee at the cargo bay door, just in time to step aside as Jayne walked through carrying the two intruders.

"Goin' somewhere, Jayne?" the captain asked, a little surprised at how easily he carried the two men.

"Juss takin' out the trash, cap'n," he replied with a snort. "I won't be long."

"Make it fast," Mal said. "I want us out in the black and on our way to Boros before Niska quits bein' a statue and goes back to being a sadistic crazy."

Jayne just nodded and kept walking, but every now and then a little snort of laughter would pop out as he made his way into the Skyplex.

"Mr. Niska." A blindfold was removed, and the face of a quite beautiful woman moved into his point of view. From the grace with which she carried herself, it was obvious she was a Companion. Niska strained against his own muscles, but was still quite paralyzed. And although he seemed to be standing in a public place, he was surprisingly cold.

"I know you can see me, even though you cannot respond. I also know you are a direct man, so I will make this simple and to the point. You took a member of the Sisterhood hostage today, and ordered your men to strike her. Then you threatened to kill her. This is not tolerated, and we will not permit it to continue."

Ther crime boss raged from inside his prison of flesh, and the woman saw the anger in his eyes and smiled.

"The reach of the Companions Guild extends far beyond the bedroom, Mr. Niska. We have friends in high places … and we are not at all reluctant to use our connections to punish or eliminate those who threaten us. Your Skyplex, for example, could not withstand even a single salvo from a fully-armed Alliance cruiser. And although we do not have one of our own, there are many Alliance officers who would happily destroy your home if we told them the cause was just. Government leaders on dozens of worlds would eagerly target your business operations if we asked them to. And rest assured, we will ask – unless you do exactly what I say."

Niska 's anger cooled slightly as he contemplated her words. As heavily shielded as his Skyplex was, it was no match for Alliance heavy weapons. And he had no doubt the Companions Guild could deliver what this woman promised. He could fight, but it would be costly. And if he were to lose, his reputation would become even less solid than his dealings with Captain Reynolds had already made it.

"You will leave Inara Serra alone, Mr. Niska, as well as Malcolm Reynolds and the crew of Serenity. You will also seek no action against the Sisterhood, for that would bring an immediate and unfortunate reaction – one that would severely impact your ability to do business, not to mention your ability to remain alive."

"That was a warning about your future. Now, concerning your present. You had to be punished for your attack on one of us. Obviously you have issues with powerful women. But your current status as a mannequin and our proximity to a lingerie store provided us with the perfect opportunity to … put you in touch with your feminine side."

"You and your men are now … on display in the center square of this station, wearing the latest in feminine underthings from the finest lingerie designers on Osiris, and made up with the finest cosmetics Ariel has to offer. We've also extended your paralysis for an additional eight hours or so, to give you all the time you need to reflect on why it is unwise to attempt to harm a Companion in any way."

"Your clothing and valuables are in the station security office. You can retrieve them when you can move again. Do not bother to file a complaint. They will take no action against us." The woman moved her face very close to his, and looked deep into his eyes. "A few last words of advice. Taking revenge is both unprofessional and unprofitable. And if you persist in attempting to obtain it, from either Malcolm Reynolds or the Sisterhood, you will lose everything you have worked so hard to build. That is not a promise. That is a fact."

"Have a … beautiful day."

She moved aside, and Adelai Niska finally saw his reflection in the store window across from where he stood.

Despite the Companion's parting wish, it wasn't pretty.

Teller opened his eyes slowly, and the world gradually came into focus. Everything around him was pink and smelled vaguely like perfume. His hands and feet were restrained somehow, so he couldn't move well on his own. He could hear someone next to him that sounded like Beeks, but he couldn't turn his head far enough around to see. Besides, whoever it was kept whimpering and mewling, and he'd never heard Beeks sound like that before.

"Good. You're awake."

Teller turned his head to find Jayne straddling a worn kitchen chair. Behind him on the wall was a table full of jars and brushes, and a mirror. Since he was apparently on the floor, Teller really couldn't see his own reflection, but there seemed to be a lot of clothes against the wall behind him. "I been trying to talk to your partner there, but all he can do is breathe hard and make noises like a kitten trapped in a well. Probably 'cause he woke up a mite prettier than he was when he went out."

Almost effortlessly, Jayne reached down and pulled Teller half off the floor, then spun him around so he could see his partner.

Beeks was hairless and fleshy pink from head to toe. The hair on top of his head had been lengthened to reach halfway down his back and colored a bright cotton-candy pink, with a pair of white cat ears stuck in the middle of it all. His face was heavily made up, and both hands, including the broken one, were locked into furry mittens that couldn't be removed. He wore a harness covered in pink fur that matched the mittens, and a long fluffy cat tail attached to the harness ran down behind him. Teller could see Beeks's feet, also locked into white furry boots with very high heels.

"The warpaint is sorta permanent," Jayne said, "and so's the hair. They got stuff that'll loosen it all up so he kin get it off, but without that I reckon your buddy would hafta rip his skin off, and I'm thinkin' he wouldn't want to do that."

Teller felt a chill run down his spine. "Do I look like that, too?"

Jayne snorted. "Oh, hell no! These folk like what ya call var-eye-it-tee in their entertainment." He pulled Teller up to his feet and turned him around to face the mirror. He too was hairless, and his entire body had been oiled until it glistened. He wore a leather harness that left nothing to the imagination and a matching collar. Leather bands on his wrists and ankles that seemed to be hooked together somehow, making it impossible for him to move. His hair was slicked back, and his feet were bare.

Jayne watched Teller's face with a barely concealed smile.

"I think you're supposed to be some kind of ruttin' slave boy," he said, "and your buddy … well, I don't know what the hell he's supposed to be, but that ain't my problem. I ain't sly myself, and I don’t usually hang with sly folk, but they was what I needed ta teach you a lesson."

"S … sly?" Teller's blood ran cold and Beeks squeaked and curled into a ball.

"Well, I coulda given you to a bunch of women to scare the gosa outta you like you tried to do to Linda, but I'm already late." Jayne grinned wide. "Besides, I ain't sure how scared you'd be of women-folk, but I'm pretty gorram sure you and your buddy ain't sly, so that'll juss add to the fun. Well, my fun, anyway. And theirs, I'm thinkin'."

"How did you –?"

"Amazin' what you kin find if you spread a little coin around, ain't it?" Jayne put Teller back on the floor and pulled out a cigar. "Found this club quick enough, even if I did get me some interestin' looks while I was huntin'. And the folks here were more than happy to lend a hand when I told them what you did – and what you were goin' to do. Hell, I didn't even hafta pay extra for the killin', if it comes to that."

Beeks wrapped himself tighter. Teller looked up at Jayne with a shake of his head. The mercenary lit his cigar and took a few puffs before giving the would-be thief the eye.

"Well, the way I figure it, I oughta give you two the same chance you gave Linda. Fair's fair, right, gents?" He took another puff and ambled towards the door. "So there's the one door and there's a crowd full of sly boys on the other side that figure to have their way with you. They're fixin' to play wit you, mebbe order you 'round some, get you to make 'em … happy." He shrugged. "Sounds familiar, don't it? Now, if you do what the boys want, and I mean everythin' they want, they just give you your old clothes back and let you go in a bunch of hours. Same deal you offered my pilot, sorta."

Jayne leaned over and looked Teller in the eye. "But if ya fight back, even a little? Well, you'll wind up leavin' the Skyplex through the nearest airlock … in the clothes you're wearin' now. dohn-mah?"

He turned to the furry figure curled up and shaking on the floor and gave him a nudge with the toe of his boot. "How 'bout that, Beeks – juss say no once and you'll be floatin' in orbit around Santos forever dressed like a giant pink pussy. Boggles the mind, don't it?" Beeks whimpered again, and Jayne snorted. He turned and walked towards the door, the cigar in the corner of his mouth.

Teller tried to reach out with his manacled hands. "Wait!" he shouted.

Jayne turned around at the door. "Well, no, 'fraid I can't. Like I said, I'm late. And as fun as it might be to watch, I got a ship to catch." He opened the door, and the sound of the crowd outside filled the small room. He gave the two on the floor a grin. "Best of luck, though."

The door swung shut behind him.

As he walked back to Serenity, Jayne ignored the dirty looks from the passersby as he puffed on his cigar.

'Ain't nobody gonna die,' he said to himself, 'cause I told Linda they'd be safe. But they don't have ta know that. And I'm bettin' neither one is gonna be brave enough to find out it's a bluff.' He snorted. 'Gorram, I'm startin' to like thinkin' things through. This HAS been an interestin' day.'

He snorted once again and quickened his step a little. His crew was waiting.

“You are a very clever and deceitful girl.”

The ship was finally on its way to Boros, and River was deep inside a very complex fantasy when the voice intruded. She had been preparing to perform in a variation of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake – one of her own creation, rewritten as a combination of ballet, Japanese Kabuki, Chinese Noh play, and vaudeville comedy routine. River wasn’t quite crazy, not anymore, but she did like to keep her hand in, as it were. And mixing theatrical styles was almost as much fun as solving fourth-order calculus equations in her head – while doing a handstand and holding her breath.

The owner of the voice was a small older Oriental gentleman in flowing robes, floating serenely above the dance floor.

“Clever I will admit to,” she replied, one leg up and stretching on the ballet bar in front of the mirror. “Brilliant, even. Deceitful, however, is wrong, and I refuse to accept it. I lied to no one … Chiang. Unlike others I could mention.”

Chiang shook his head. “I never lied to Hoban Washburne.”

River snorted in a very unladylike fashion. “A lie of omission is still a lie. You let him agree to be Linda without first telling him he would wind up being a she.”

“Her presence was necessary.”

“That doesn’t make the lying right.”

“She was offered the chance to refuse, after she knew she was going to be a woman.”

“A chance you knew Wash wouldn’t accept, just to leave his shipmates to die.”

The guardian regarded her thoughtfully, and inclined his head. “I concede the point without admitting I was wrong. Sometimes the end truly does justify the means, and Serenity needed Wash-as-Linda to save everyone aboard her. In any event, your accusation of deceit on my part does not excuse your own deceitful acts."

River yawned. "Name one."

"You promised you would be there for Wash, and you were not. You did not save Wash from her captors.”

“I never said I would 'save her.' What I said was that I would be there for her, and I was.” River switched to her other leg. “I'd been hiding in the gridwork for a full two minutes, ready to jump in if Jayne hadn’t gotten there when he was supposed to. I knew that he would, but better safe than sorry. Be prepared, that's my motto.”

“Be prepared is the motto of the Boy Scouts,” Chiang said with a frown. “And you were never a boy, or a scout.”

“A fact for which I thank the gods every morning before breakfast, old man.” He could hear the smile in River’s voice. “Boy Scout or not, as far as this crew and this ship are concerned, I will always be prepared.”

Chiang smiled. “Be prepared for what?”

“To step in, when I have to,” she replied softly, “and step aside when I need to.”

The older gentleman lifted an eyebrow. The young girl lifted one in return, and then grinned impishly.

“I will do whatever it takes to protect my family," River said. "From the Verse, and from themselves. If that means holding off on a rescue to let Jayne play hero, shiny.”

“Why would you want to have Jayne save her?” The guardian sounded curious.

“Because Jayne is finally learning what it means to be part of a crew and part of a family,” she said simply. “He stepped in and saved her. It wasn't about coin, or even getting her into his bunk. He did it because he was worried about her. I could see it in his head. He just wanted to keep her safe. It was the kind of thing the old Jayne would never have done, unless there was something in it for him."

Chiang’s eyes twinkled. “And?”

River shot him a look, then shook her head and sighed. “And Wash needed to see Jayne actually being a hero – actually being the kind of man she could come to like, instead of the selfish jerk he used to be when Wash still was Wash and not Linda. If Wash grows into becoming the woman she is now, and Jayne just plain grows up, there could be something between them, maybe. If I work it just right.”

“I withdraw deceitful,” he said with a smile, “and substitute manipulative.”

“To which I plead guilty as charged.” River smiled back. "But to be fair, it takes one to know one. And, as you said, sometimes the end truly does justify the means. I'm going to do everything in my power to keep this ship flying and the crew happy, even if I have to play matchmaker."

She stopped stretching and took a towel off of the end of the barre. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a show to do."

Chiang held up a hand. "A moment, please. I couldn't help but notice you are preparing for a performance. I looked into your mind to see what you were planning. Your version of Swan Lake sounds … interesting. And there are so few diversions for one such as myself. I was wondering … if I might be allowed to attend?"

"Attend?" River gave him a questioning look. "I am not even happy with you being here now, old man. You showed up in my head unannounced and uninvited, and I'm not sure I'd like the idea of you wandering around in my mind for the next four hours of subjective time … especially with your tendency to meddle."

The guardian bowed his head. "I would be as quiet as a mouse, honored miss, and would happily obey any restrictions you might set as to my actions. I do not wish to interfere, only to observe."

The girl thought for a moment, and then spoke. "If I do let you stay, I have rules. This is my brain, and I remain totally in control. I don't want you doing anything in here without my express permission, agreed?"

Chiang nodded with a smile. "Agreed."

River nodded and grinned. "Then you may stay for the performance. I've arranged for you to have the best seats in the house, and an appropriate escort."

"Thank you." Chiang lowered himself to the dance floor and bowed from the waist. "Your kindness is appreciated."

She closed her eyes and a doorway appeared at the far end of the room. Chiang smiled and began moving towards it.

"Wait!" River's voice stopped him in mid-stride, and he turned to her with a question in his eyes. "My conception of the Ariel Opera House has a very strict dress code. Your robes are inappropriate. Just a moment while I make some … adjustments to your appearance."

Chiang sighed and waited patiently. He felt his clothing begin to shift and blur around him, and suddenly his body began to shift as well. He tried to focus his mind to halt the changes, but found them impossible to stop.

"I remain totally in control, remember?" River said with a playful smile. "Now be still and let me finish."

Chiang felt his body begin to solidify, and realized that it wasn't his body anymore. He turned and faced the mirror …

… and saw a beautiful woman with long blonde hair that tumbled over her shoulders and down her back like a golden waterfall. She was wearing a painted-on blue gown that clung to every one of her exaggerated curves, but left her back, shoulders, and the tops of her breasts bare. The skirt of the dress barely qualified as a skirt, coming down just enough to hide the tops of the sheer silk stockings that hugged her legs like a second skin. The five-inch heels on her feet matched the dress and the opera gloves on her arms, and her make-up was as tasteful as her jewelry.

She spun on her toes and stared daggers at River.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" Her voice came out a seductive half-whisper.

"Because you agreed to give me control to get what you wanted," the younger girl replied, "just like Wash did. According to you, that made it all right, remember?"

River looked into Chiang's eyes. "It occurred to me that you'd been playing with people's lives for so long, you might have forgotten what it means to be truly human, and not always in control of your own destiny. I thought you needed to understand why tricking another person into a life-changing situation to serve your own purposes is not always the 'right' thing to do … even when it is." A playful grin popped up on her face. "The end may justify the means, old man, but I told you, I take care of my own. And I decided that Wash needed a little payback for you dropping him into Linda's body unprepared."

There was a knock on the door. River's eyes lit up in mock surprise. "Oh, my! Who could that be?"

The door swung open to reveal a tall, almost handsome man in a tuxedo. He seemed to loom over Chiang, making the new girl feel quite small and defenseless, and his face was fixed in a permanent leer. His eyes roamed constantly over Chiang's new body, and she found herself wanting to cover up, even though she knew none of this was real.

"Don't keep your date waiting, Gladys," River said happily. "Enjoy the show! I know I will."

The transformed guardian found her unwanted body moving forward on its impossible heels, all of its unfamiliar parts bouncing, wiggling and swaying with every step until she stood uneasily beside her "escort." As they walked together into the Opera House, one of his hands repeatedly brushed her chest "accidentally," while the other reached down to give her impossibly round bottom a squeeze. Every man she passed managed to touch her somehow, and it just went on and on as they moved from balcony to mezzanine to orchestra.

Strangely, as uncomfortable as she became, it soon became apparent that River had made sure Chiang would be unable to put up any resistance, and she resolved to get through this with as much dignity as she could muster.

So when she finally reached her seat, Chiang tried slipping into it gracefully, only to find that her too short skirt rode up, exposing the tops of her stockings and a band of naked thigh that drew the eye of every male in the immediate vicinity. The reluctant girl pulled her skirt down as far as it would go and pressed her knees together. In response, her "date" slipped one arm around her, let the other hand slide onto her lap, and leered down into her cleavage like he was searching for hidden treasure.

Chiang heaved a huge sigh, setting her new chest to quivering. As she waited for River Tam's Swan Lake to begin, trying to ignore her companion's hot breath on her bosom, the guardian knew one thing for sure.

No matter how entertaining the ballet might be, it was going to be a long four hours.

Wash loved the quiet. And she loved the view from the pilot's seat.

The ship was out in the black on its way to Boros, with all the bridge lights set on low and the galaxy sprinkled across the ship's bow for her inspection. She leaned back in her chair and let her eyes caress the stars. The rest of the crew were off doing whatever they did when Serenity was in transit, and Wash was doing what she enjoyed the most – flying. And seeing the stars.

She felt almost at peace for the first time since this "connecting flight" began.

'After everything that happened, you'd think I'd be ready for a week of sleep,' Wash thought, checking the scanners once again for any nearby traffic before returning her eyes to the . 'But I'm wide awake, and happy to be back where I belong. Sort of.'

Her hand still ached a bit from the roundhouse punch that knocked Teller flat, but she felt absurdly proud of being the one to put him down. She really shouldn't have been surprised. After all, she knew Zoe could easily hit hard enough to put a man on the ground in less time than it took to tell about it, so her being able to knock someone senseless wasn't exactly that much of a feat. Still, it was nice to know she could defend herself, if push came to shove. It was good to feel powerful instead of powerless.

Wash was also getting used to being a woman. In the few hours since their run-in with Niska and her impromptu striptease, all the things that had felt wrong when she'd first become Linda had started feeling more and more natural. The bounce and sway of her new walk, the way her hair brushed at the back of her neck, and the pretty reflection in the mirror – they were all just becoming the way things were now. It was still odd, looking at Zoe and feeling how much she loved her, but knowing it was something she could never share. It was odder still watching Mal walk away from her in those tight pants of his and feeling a thrill deep down inside she didn't really want to think about just yet.

But there was time for that. Time for everything. She was alive again, and flying. That was all that mattered.

Kaylee moved all of her stuff out of her old room, and when Mal and Jayne brought Linda's things up from the cargo bay, the ship's mechanic helped her make the empty room into a place she could call her own. Strangely enough, even though it was all bits of Linda's past, Wash felt very much at home. Kaylee even gave her a new sign for her door – all birds and clouds and rainbows surrounding the words "Linda's Room."

"There you go!" Kaylee said, putting down the screwdriver she'd use to put the sign in place. "Now it's official. You're a part of the crew. Welcome to the family." She threw Linda a grin, and the pilot surprised both Kaylee and herself with an uncharacteristic squeal and a hug just for the joy of it.

Yes, definitely getting used to being a woman.

Wash looked out into the black and smiled.

'It's still going to take some time,' she thought, 'but maybe, just maybe, things are going to be okay.'

"Hey."

Jayne's voice came from behind her. She swiveled in the pilot's seat and saw him standing in the doorway, fidgeting slightly.

"Hey yourself," she said with a smile. "What brings you up to pilot country?"

"Uh, you do, I guess," he replied, ducking his head and giving her a small smile in return. "Can I come in?"

"Sure." Wash watched Jayne walk through the hatch. She noticed he had shaved and changed his clothes since they had left the Skyplex, and he smelled like soap. "What's up?"

"Nothin'." There was a long pause. "Juss wonderin' how you're settlin' in is all." Another pause. "You look happy."

"That's 'cause I am happy." She reached out to touch the pilot's console. "I'm doing what I love to do, and I'm getting paid to do it. And I'm working with people I like. It doesn't get much better than that."

Another silence. Wash snuck a look at Jayne, and found him looking at his boots.

"What about Niska?" he asked suddenly. "Joinin' up with us brought you a mess o' trouble. Don't that bother you some?"

Wash thought about how Linda would answer, and shrugged. "The Verse is a dangerous place. There's always going to be someone out there with a problem. As long as I get to keep flying, I can put up with the occasional death threat or embarrassing striptease." She grinned. “And as long as you don't mind rescuing me. Thank you.”

Jayne nodded, his jaw clenched. He looked very uncomfortable, and at first Wash couldn't figure out why. It wasn't anything she had done. He'd been awkward since the minute he walked in. She'd never seen him quite so unsettled before.

Then it hit her. The mercenary was afraid.

He was afraid of her – afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing, of making her angry or scaring her off. He was worried about losing her before he’d even caught her, and didn't have a clue what to do next.

'Fo yi ge hun fu zhuang,' she thought, keeping her feelings carefully hidden. 'So much fear, he doesn’t know how to handle it. He's as nervous as an elephant on a rice paper bridge – surprised it hasn’t ripped yet, not sure how to get off, and half convinced he’s dead no matter what he does. It’s just a matter of time until he falls either way.'

Jayne cleared his throat, and then tried to figure out where to put his hands. It hurt just to watch him, and Wash had no idea what she could do to make it better.

The thing was, Wash knew exactly how it felt. Becanse back when she was a he, way back when he first came to Serenity, Wash had felt the same way. About Zoe.

Zoe had disliked him from the start, and he’d known almost instinctively that it was going to be an uphill battle to make her see him as anything but an irritant. Still, once he’d met her, Wash couldn’t get her out of his mind. He knew he couldn’t court her the way he’d courted other women in the past, because she wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known. For a while, he hid behind humor or attitude because he just didn’t know what to do. Eventually, he figured out she wouldn’t stand for anything less than total honesty and strength – and from that point on, Wash knew he could win her. And did.

Just by being himself.

Then she remembered what Chiang had said when they had first met in the Afterlife – that Jayne had good in him, even if he didn't know it yet. She thought about what Jayne had said after the rescue, about wanting to change … to be better. For her.

And she remembered what Kaylee had told her when they were putting away her things – that when they figured out Serenity was under attack, Jayne had taken off through the crowd shouting her name.

'He's not who he used to be, that's for sure,' Wash thought, ''He's changed. But I'm pretty sure that's part of the problem. He can't be himself with me, because he's not sure exactly who he is anymore. He's trying to leave a lot of who he was behind, and he's still working out who the new Jayne will be.'

Wash looked at Jayne. He caught her eye, and for a second she could see his fear before he looked away. To the pilot, it looked like the silence had spooked him, and that he was planning to run.

'If he really wants to be better … to change the kind of man he is, because of me … then maybe I should think about doing some changing, too. Make things a little easier for him.' A little piece of the Wash-That-Was rose up in protest, and Wash and Linda together turned and shouted it down.

'I'm not planning to sleep with the man,' she growled inside. 'I'm not that kind of a girl.' The thought almost made her grin, but she kept it all inside. Gods forbid Jayne got the idea that Linda might be laughing at him.

She sighed. 'Look, I'm just starting to like the guy, okay? I don't want to have his baby. I am so not ready for that.' Wash took a mental breath. 'I just want to make him feel better. I want to give him a reason to hope – to not be so afraid of changing.' And a smaller voice deep in her mind whispered, 'I don't want him to be afraid of me, either.'

Jayne fidgeted some more. Linda sat there, quietly watching him, and the longer he stood there, the more he felt like this whole idea had been rutting crazy from the start.

'I can't change,' he thought, his mood darkening. 'Even if I do, she ain't gonna want the likes of me to be her man. I'm juss bein' moonbrained even thinkin' I got a chance with her.'

His shoulders sagging, Jayne turned to leave. But before he moved more than an inch, Linda rose from her seat, her hand raised.

"Wait!" she said. Jayne turned back in surprise.

'She looks … worried?' He realized. 'Why would she look worried? About me? No, that's crazy.'

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back to my bunk," he replied. His voice held a small measure of defeat. "Nowhere else to go, out here in the black."

"You could stay with me." The pilot looked at him hopefully. It sure looked to Jayne like she wanted him to stay. The only trouble was, he wasn't sure what else he could say or do to keep her entertained. Just standing there like a gorram fool sure wasn't helping none, and once Linda saw there wasn't anything else to him, she wouldn't want him around anymore anyway, so why was he even listening?

"Come keep me company for a while." Linda said, her tone soft and gentle. "Please? I've got something to show you."

She reached out her hand, and after a moment, he surprised them both by taking it. It was soft and warm and felt just right, wrapped in his fingers. She gave his hand a small squeeze, then pulled him forward. When they faced each other only a few inches apart, Linda pushed him softly into the pilot's seat.

Jayne looked up at her looking down on him, and she smiled again. Then she stepped behind the chair and swiveled it until it faced the windows.

"Look out there, Jayne," she whispered. "What do you see?"

He felt stupid, all of the sudden, like she was testing him. "The black, like I said before," he replied. "Nothing else to see."

Linda put her hands on his shoulders, and he felt the warmth of her touch. "Don't you see the stars, too?" she asked.

Surprised at how close she was, Jayne nodded. She continued. "The black is just the space between them, Jayne. The black and the stars make up the 'Verse, and the 'Verse is full of possibilities. Places to go, people to see, things to do. Right?"

Jayne nodded. Linda swiveled the chair back so he faced her again, and lowered herself until she was looking up into his eyes.

"So when you think about the 'Verse, it's not that there's nowhere else to go," she said. "It's that there's everywhere to go. There are so many possibilities, you may never get to them all. So in a way, the 'Verse is full of hope, Jayne. Sometimes, sitting here, looking out at that sky, I think that nothing is impossible."

He swallowed and nodded again, and she smiled, still looking into his soul. "I like that you want to change for me. And I like how much you've grown since I first came here. But right now, I'd like to get to know you better – not just the you that you're going to be, but who you are now."

Linda stood up and looked down at him, then reached over and took his hand again.

"So stay with me, and just be Jayne. Not the Jayne I met in the cargo bay, but the Jayne who stepped in and saved me when I needed saving. I'm pretty sure they're the same guy, more or less. Don't be afraid to be yourself with me. Just be the best you that you can be, and that'll be fine, okay?"

"But how –?" Jayne felt confused, and Linda sighed. She brought his hand up to her lips …

… and Wash found herself kissing it softly. Any reservations she had were lost in the moment and in Jayne's eyes. Oddly enough, the feel of his hand on her lips didn't seem strange at all, but she still did her best not to think too hard about what she just did … and who she did it with. The look in his eyes was priceless, and she was glad she took the fear away.

Although a part of her was still a bit disturbed about the way she'd done it. And how easy it was to do.

"You're a good man, Jayne," she said softly. "Or you can be. But who you will be is going to come from who you are, and that's the man I want to know better. Okay?"

Linda kept his hand and rose slowly, until she stood over him again. She reached out a finger and touched the tip of his nose, and spoke with a playful twang that almost mirrored his own.

"So why don't you stop bein' so strong and silent, Mister Jayne Cobb, an' tell me about your past." He snorted, and she couldn't help but smile as she slipped back into her own voice. "I guarantee we'll get to the present soon enough."

With a grin, Linda spun the chair around until it faced forward, and stood behind it looking ahead with Jayne.

"After all," she said from behind him, with Wash's wicked grin slipping across her face, "the present is on the way to the future, and we're headed that way anyway, right?"

Jayne thought for a minute, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he replied. "I reckon we are at that, Miss Wehr, ma'am. I reckon we are at that."