Even If The Odds Are Lousy: Part 1 of 2 Rating: PG-15 for graphic violence and multilingual adult language Characters/Pairings:Crew, OMC. Implied S/K, potential J/K. Disclaimer: All belong to Joss. I got nada.

A/N: My first post here in a while. Written for the LJ Firefly Fanfic Fest prompt: “Jayne meets an old flame in port”, and cross posted from my LiveJournal. Hover for translation. Comments and feedback are always appreciated. If you read and enjoy it, please let me know.

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Even If The Odds Are Lousy Part One

“It was her, Mal. I swear to God!” Jayne shoved aside the unfortunate porter who happened to step in front of him. His long stride and loud voice were a clear indicator of his agitation. “I’d know her anywhere.”

Mal glanced sidelong at his gunhand. Jayne was prone to exaggeration and he was skeptical. “You got a good look at her?”

“Hell, yeah.” The big merc kept glancing back over his shoulder, although they were well past the object of their conversation.

“Mightta been mistook, you know.”

Jayne shook his head vehemently. “Not ruttin’ likely, long as we was together.” He wheeled ’round and grabbed Mal’s shoulder, halting his boss in mid-step.

Mal looked down at the big paw planted against him and then cocked an eyebrow pointedly at the mercenary. “Jayne, you might wanna think about gettin’ your gorram hand off me, mǎshàng!”

The big man removed the offending appendage from his captain. “Sorry. It’s just – I never figured on seein’ her again and now that I have, I gotta get her back.”

“Jayne, Vera weren’t the only Callahan ever built. It’s been two years since you lost her – “

“Dammit, Mal, that weren’t my fault. That hún dàn was cheatin’ an’ you know it. Ruttin’ game was rigged.”

“Mayhap it was. Still, you got no way of knowing you just saw the same gun.”

Jayne shook his head, a cunning glint in his eye. “That’s where you’re wrong. See – I modded her out, changed the flash suppressor and added a custom sight.” He pointed back toward the market. “That was my damn gun back there and come hell or high water, I’m gettin’ her back!”

Mal knew the merc well enough to know that when Jayne made up his mind to accomplish something, he usually found a way. “Just remember we’re here just the two days. Don’t give you long to do whatever it is you’re gonna do.” He glanced at the hulking gunhand. “And I ain't bailin’ your ass outta jail again.” Although Jayne nodded, Mal could see he’d already lost the man. He sighed and then said, “You get those supplies unloaded and tied down, you’re free until noon on Wednesday.”

Jayne absentmindedly shifted the heavy sack tossed over his shoulder and responded, “Alright, Cap'n.” He was already calculating how to raise enough cash to buy back his girl.

*

His chores completed, Jayne quickly rummaged through his bunk, stuffing any cash he had into his pocket and scrambling for items he could sell. He had a little over four hundred credits, including the pay Mal had given him earlier, and he knew damn well that wasn’t nearly enough. He studied his armory and then grudgingly took down a couple of blades and a classy automatic pistol he’d stolen off an Alliance officer he’d cold-cocked on Trinity the year before.

It was hard to think of selling some of the items, but most of them were replaceable. Not Vera. He recalled the heft of the big assault weapon in his hands, her substance, her power and her accuracy. A man didn’t get his hands on a gun like that but once in his life and he’d been fool enough to lose her. That put matters in perspective, so he took down an antique-style revolver he knew to be pretty rare and a semi-automatic rifle popular among his fellow mercs. He methodically wrapped each item in a towel and stuffed his gear into a tote, then headed back up his ladder and then down the stairs to the hold.

As he headed out past Mal and Zoe, he was very much a man on a mission. Mal called out a reminder to him,"Remember, Jayne, no bail!" but the merc just grunted and charged on by.

Zoe looked at the captain quizzically. “What’s with him?”

Mal raked a palm through his hair and shook his head wearily. “While we were down in ‘Boomtown’ picking up ammo, he claims he saw Vera an’ now he’s made up his mind to go buy her back.”

Zoe looked stunned. “He plannin’ a bank job we don’t know about, sir? I hate to think what they’d be askin’ for that gun.” Jayne’s passion for Vera was legendary and the mercenary had been truly heartbroken when a card shark and a bottle of whisky had parted him from the big weapon.

“I didn’t ask and don’t wanna know.” Mal watched as his gunhand lumbered down the ramp and out into the bright, dusty streets of the Eavesdown Docks.

*

‘Boomtown’ was the part of the docks given over to the selling and trading of guns, munitions and weapons of all sorts. If you knew the right fella to ask you could get anything legal and a whole lot more that wasn’t. With a little quick dickering, Jayne was soon five hundred and forty-five credits richer, although he thought he might have gotten more for the automatic if he’d had more time.

He turned and headed back to the shop where he’d seen Vera. Indeed, there she hung, pretty as a picture, proudly displayed in the front window of Cheap Charlie’s Guns and Knives. She looked a little the worse for wear, but it almost took Jayne’s breath away to see her again.

“Damn, baby, I’ve missed you!” he muttered longingly under his breath.

He pushed through the door and stepped up to the counter. The dealer, a heavyset fellow with a scarred face, looked Jayne up and down, concluding his customer was clearly a professional. “What can I do for you, my friend?” His tone was warm and inclusive. “We carry a full range of weapons and calibers. Parts and repairs are available, too. Plus, my friend, I’ll meet any price you find on the docks.”

Jayne silenced the dealer’s patter with an offhand wave. He shifted his cigar to the left side of his mouth and tipped his head toward Vera. “Lemme see that Callahan in your window case.”

Cheap Charlie’s eyebrow arched and a crooked, calculating smile lit up his face as he flattered the big man, “I can see you’ve an eye for the finest in firepower.” He tapped a combination into a control pad and the security panel rose to allow him to lift the big automatic from her display mounts. He returned to where Jayne stood in front of the counter and handed the weapon to him.

“That there’s one helluva gun.”

The feel of his Vera back in his arms was almost enough to get Jayne hard, but he kept his expression cold and disdainful. “Mighty beat up,” he prompted, turning the gun this way and that, checking the mechanism and sight. “Sticky, too. Some gorram fool used some a that Alliance niufen on her. That crap’s bad to make guns jam.”

Jayne forced himself to place Vera back on the counter and shook his head as if he was uncertain. “Whatcha askin’?”

Cheap Charlie, who’d done a string of tours as an Alliance gunnery sergeant, knew Callahans were both rare and highly desirable. He was also perceptive enough to see through Jayne’s thinly disguised indifference. “Well…given that there is some field wear on her, say… twenty-five hundred credits?”

Jayne’s jaw dropped and he scowled. "Shi ni feng! That’s highway robbery!” He turned and headed toward the door, snapping back, “I can buy a new one for that!”

What Charlie said next brought his customer up short. “Nope. ‘Cause Callahan went outta business right after the war.” Charlie smiled as his customer turned back. Fish on the line.“I can probably do twenty-three hundred, since you clearly appreciate the gun.”

Jayne studied the arms dealer, his expression flat in an effort to mask his desire for Vera. “I’ll give you twenty-one hundred for it, but that’s still feng le.”

At this point, Charlie sank the hook. With a slow crocodilian smile he offered, “Make it twenty-two, and I’ll throw in an extra couple a mags.” Gotcha!

Jayne gritted his teeth and stuck out his hand. “Done.” Now came the awkward part. “There’s just one thing… I ain't carryin’ but about nine hundred credits on me. How’s about I give you that to hold ‘er for me and I’ll be back within forty-eight hours to pay ‘er off.”

Charlie stared back warily and then glanced up at the clock on the dingy wall. Was the big merc trying to pull something on him? “Well, alright,” he agreed, grudgingly. “You got ‘til three on Wednesday afternoon.” He took out a receipt and filled it out, then shoved in front of Jayne. “Sign there,” he pointed.

Jayne scrawled his name and counted out the agreed-upon deposit. He had no idea how he was going to raise the remainder, but he’d left himself ninety credits as a grubstake. His eyes longingly followed Vera as the dealer carried her into the back of the shop. One way or another, he was coming back for his gun.

*

Back out on the street, he wandered aimlessly for a while, racking his mind for how to raise the cash he needed. He considered buying into a card game, although he was the first to admit poker was not his strength. Then he thought about doing a bank job or some second story work, but he really didn’t have the time or resources to plan either one safely.

He turned a corner and immediately noticed a gaudy holosign inviting all comers to take on one Flint McGee, also known as ‘The Kalisto Kid’. He stepped closer and read the text below the flickering image of McGee. The fight was a ‘no holds barred, last man standing’ deal. Challengers were required to pay a fifty-cred entry fee, but the prize purse was a whopping two thousand credits.

He’d heard talk of The Kid, but had never seen him in person. “I’ve held my own in many a bar brawl and I’m in as good shape as I’ve ever been,” he told himself confidently. “If I can beat that sumbitch, I’d have the cash I need and some left over. That thing twixt Kaylee and the Doc’s finally wearin’ thin, an’ I might have another chance to make a try for her. Oughta buy her somethin’ pretty an’ see if I could get her to go out to dinner with me.”

The thought of having enough cash after reclaiming Vera to wine and dine the little mechanic was all the extra motivation he needed. He memorized the signup location and then struck out there straight away.

*

An hour and a half later, he was back on Serenity, stripped to his workout shorts and giving the punching bag hung under the catwalk of the cargo bay the drubbing of its dusty life. As he lurched and feigned and jabbed at the heavy bag, Mal and Simon looked on uncertainly.

“What’s he doing?” Simon finally asked softly, his face reflecting his confusion.

“Looks like he’s trying to kill that poor innocent punching bag and doin’ a damn good job of it, too,” Mal replied.

*

That evening the crew gathered in Serenity’s commons for dinner in the form of a huge salad. The fresh vegetables Kaylee had picked up in the dock market were a rare treat much appreciated by every one, except perhaps Jayne.

“No meat?” he complained. “How the gorram hell’s a man supposed to live off rabbit food?”

“Like a rabbit?” Simon offered. Jayne’s scowl made clear his humor was unappreciated.

The merc rummaged around in the galley chiller for a minute, then returned to the table with one of the half kilo blocks of compressed protein that passed for meat and sliced off a slab the size of a book. He studied the bland stuff, dumped hot sauce on it and then added a topping of salad. With a hum of satisfaction, he began to dig into his improvised meal, oblivious to the looks of his stunned shipmates.

“You work out a way to get Vera back?” Mal prompted, curious as to what Jayne had in mind.

“Yup.” Jayne kept his head down, shoveling in bites of protein paste while the others enjoyed their salad.

“Gonna tell us how?” Mal was persistent.

In between bites, Jayne answered, “Signed up for a prize fight against the Kalisto Kid. Nine tomorrow night at the dockside arena.” He washed his mouthful down with a big swig of water and speared another bite.

Mal’s head lurched up from his own dinner and his jaw dropped. “Have you lost your gorram mind? That overgrown xiongmeng de kuangren is bound to beat the immortal shit outta your damn fool hide!”

“Who’s the Kalisto Kid?” Kaylee asked, her small voice rising in alarm.

Zoe replied, “He’s big trouble.”

Mal elaborated. “He’s a free-style fighter known for killing his opponents in the ring. And seein’ as I’m not lookin’ to have to replace Jayne right now, I’m a little less than thrilled at this particular prospect.”

He whirled on Jayne, who was quietly finishing off his slab of protein. “Are you nuts?!”

“I can take him.”

“Jayne, have you seen the man?”

“No. Just the holo ad.”

“He’s huge and he’s dangerous and he’s…”

“So am I.”

“Big maybe, but not exactly huge,” Mal corrected.

“Depends on what parts of me you’re talkin’ about,” Jayne bragged and winked at Kaylee, who blushed scarlet.

Mal bowed his head and covered his face with his hand.

“Really, Jayne,” Zoe advised, “you ought to reconsider. The man’s a professional killer.”

“What am I?” the mercenary asked irately. “A kindergarten teacher?”

“I can order you to stay on the ship,” Mal pointed out.

“Can’t.” Jayne sliced off more protein. “You already gave me leave.” He calmly began to devour his second helping.

Kaylee looked anxiously around the table, her focus settling on Mal. Making puppy eyes, she pleaded, “Cap'n, you can’t let him just go off to get himself beat to death on account of a gun.”

Somehow, Mal had expected this confrontation from the minute Jayne claimed to have seen Vera. He turned to Simon. “Doc – are you willin’ to tag along, be available to look after Jayne if he gets himself all busted up in this fight? He’ll need a ‘corner man’ and you’re probably the one of us best equipped to handle that responsibility.”

Simon looked a little ill. “I think what he’s planning to do is utterly barbaric, not to mention supremely stupid – “

Jayne’s head came up sharply. “Hey!” he barked.

Simon continued, “ – but of course I’ll go.” He looked uncertainly at the merc. “You’ll have to explain to me what I’m supposed to do and I’d just as soon it not include pronouncing you dead.”

Kaylee beamed at him and then at Jayne, once again forking protein into his mouth.

Mal looked at his gunhand and shook his head. “You’re a damn fool, Jayne Cobb, but you’re our damn fool, so I guess we’ll be there to cheer you on.”

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Part one of two