All characters are property of Joss Whedon and FOX. I own nothing, just playin’!

Don’t Fret by Nina Clark

Kaylee awoke gently, as one still dreaming. In the darkness of her bunk a faint sound pulled at her senses, beckoning. Teasing her eyes open, the woody strains of a guitar became apparent, though a moment passed before she realised this. Half-formed ideas of nature, earth and air, and a melancholic whisper of… What was that?

Sitting up to rest on her elbow, Kaylee quirked her head towards the hatchway. It was coming from across the hall. Jayne’s bunk? Hypnotised by the resonance, she swung her legs over the bed, feet finding slippers. The stillness of the room was like a blanket and the air warmed around her as she moved quietly to the foot of the ladder.

A melody was now discernable, playing a counterpoint over the soothing drone of Serenity’s engine. Yearning to hear more clearly this sweet lullaby, her hand rose to open the hatch before catching itself. Should she open it? She didn’t want to interrupt the moment. Intrigue overwhelming caution, she eased the latch free, an innate familiarity with the ship aiding her clandestine movements. Grateful to have recently oiled all the dormitory door-hinges, she climbed slowly up the rungs until her head peeked over the threshold.

The door to Jayne’s bunk was evidently open, as the more subtle nuances of his playing could now be perceived. It was a lilting slip of a tune, heartbreakingly raw and tender, and Kaylee found her chest tighten to think it was Jayne making these sounds. Music had always transported her, particularly in childhood when she would sit on her Pa’s knee at their ancient piano. Joining the Frye household as payment for a job, the instrument had brought many happy hours to their evenings in times gone by. A pang of homesickness hit her, the tightness reaching her throat.

A change in the melody tugged her from her reverie, and her gaze re-focused upon the opposite doorway. A new line, lower than before began to weave its way across the hall. Reacting as if called by name, she was suddenly standing at the mouth of Jayne’s bunk. Looking down into the room, the shadow of his form and the guitar were one, and she descended.

Glad her presence hadn’t caused him to stop, she watched from the ladder, her eyes drawn to the intricate movings of his fingers. The thrum of gut strings, their vibrations visceral in her ears, her eyes closed involuntarily with pleasure. Jayne took this moment to look up, catching her enjoyment like a capture, to keep forever. His fingers continued their dance unabashed at discovery, working into another shape, one more inclusive, welcoming. A Kaylee strand.

“Jayne…” her voice was a raggedy, sleep-worn sound. She opened her eyes, meeting his.

“Ya ain’t sleepwalkin’ then?” the bass tones of his voice rumbled, putting Kaylee in mind of a bear or the echo of thunder in a valley on a hot day. She came to herself.

“Feel like I might be.” She smiled, a little shyly.

Feeling talk was unnecessary, Jayne pushed a stool towards her with his bare foot, inclining his head to indicate she make herself more comfortable. He kept playing.

The melody now returned to its previous refrain. As time passed, Kaylee became more familiar with the phrases, and began humming along, head resting upon her hand. The notes were simple and bittersweet, evoking an unspoken longing. She wondered idly where he had learned the song.

“So pretty. It got a name?” she spoke after an interval, rocking slightly, in time with his playing.

“Huh? Uhh, don’t rightly know…Just noodlin’, I guess. Can’t sleep sometimes, restless ma used to say. This helps..” he continued to pick deftly at the strings as he spoke.

“Could creep into your slumber, song like that.” She smiled. Closing her eyes once more, she let the song pull her along its river of sound. A wistful look crossed Jayne’s face as he watched her. She had a way about her, something easy and right, made a moment like this precious where it might have been awkward for him with another crewmate. Another might not understand his affinity with the instrument, too incongruous, great ape-man like him. Kaylee didn’t question it, least didn’t seem to. Just appreciated the notes given, as they gathered around her like stars.

“It really should have a name, dontchya think?” she quirked an eyebrow and winked one eye open mischievously. “Without a name, we ain’t been properly introduced!”

Locked in her gaze, Jayne felt he might have given her just about anything she asked for just then, but he was stumped for an answer to her question. Naming his guns was one thing, and absurd as it might sound, they all had reasoning behind their monikers, significance. Naming a piece of music, unformed and newborn as it was, was different. Harder. Then he stopped thinking and the answer occurred to him naturally, as any epiphany does.

“Aww, you know this one well ‘nough lil Kaylee. This is Serenity.”