BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

JANE0904

Choices
Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Post-BDM. No OCs so can be read by anyone. From the prompt 'craft' from goddessofbirth. Jayne didn't duck fast enough and now has a visitor. STANDALONE and not part of any current storyline


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2440    RATING: 10    SERIES: FIREFLY

He was good – a master at his craft. Self-made too, taken out into the ‘verse too soon, having to learn how to deal with it the best he could. He was lucky, finding people willing to help him rather than kill him, at least until he was able to defend himself. And he got better, building on his natural abilities and honing them to a knife’s edge.

She was a weapon, made by others. It should never have happened, but it did, and there was no point in crying over it, like her brother did at times. Make the best of it, that was his opinion, maybe hunt down the hwoon dahn who cut into her, but use what they did to her to be the best weapon she could be.

Truth was, she could take care of herself, and yet he had still pushed her out of the way of the bullet, taking it himself, feeling it rip into his chest, taking his breath even as he fell to the blood-soaked earth.

He didn’t remember much about the next hours – or maybe days – except for the pain, and that drifted away when the doc gave him some of the good drugs. People had come to see him, unless they were hallucinations, but none of them looked happy. Which seemed odd to him. Didn’t they like it that he was still alive? Or maybe …

She came last. He’d been dozing, troubled thoughts disturbing his dreams, and when he opened his eyes she was standing next to him, a somber expression on her face.

He swallowed, screwing his courage to the wall and knowing he had to ask. “’M I dying, moonbrain?”

“Yes.”

His eyes widened. “I am?”

“You asked and I answered truthfully.” She blinked. “For a given value of dying.”

Now his gaze narrowed. “Huh?”

“You are dying. But only in as much as we’re all dying from the moment we’re born.”

“You making fun o’me?”

“No. Trying to be honest.”

“Crazy, if’n you don’t tell me straight, I'm gonna get up off the bed and come and give you such a hiding, you won’t be able to sit down for a week.”

“That could kill you quicker.”

About to attempt to haul himself upright he paused, pondering her words. At least two meanings, even to a brain as unused to thinking as his. Getting up might tear the doc’s careful stitching open. And touching her in anger might be just the excuse she needed to rip his head off. He took a deep breath. “Mooney, am I dying?” he asked, enunciating every word as clearly as he could.

“You mean now?” When he nodded she went on, “No. Not today.”

“You sure?”

“Simon is very good.”

“Then I'm gonna get better?”

“Are already.” Her hand fluttered over his chest. “Tissue is regenerating, blood vessels strengthening ...” She flashed a smile. “You will live. For now.”

“Thanks.” He shifted slightly and a stab of pain indicated he wasn’t maybe as well as he’d like to think.

“I can get something for you,” she offered.

Images of her putting together a concoction from whatever she could find made the pain seem dull in comparison. “Uh, no. Thanks.”

“No. I should thank you.” Her eye brow lifted. “Although I was going to duck.”

“’Kay. Next time I won’t bother.”

“Next time I'll save you.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Can if I want.”

She leaned close, her breath on his cheek, and all of a sudden he realised it was far better to think of icebergs, cold, cold showers, and being tossed out of the airlock than noticing how good she smelled, a mixture of the Geranium perfume Kaylee had given her on her last birthday, and the soft soap Inara had made her buy.

Her lips twitched.

“You reading me?” he asked hesitantly.

“Only your face,” she whispered. “I don't need to dip into that morass.”

“Come again?”

She sighed, and he could feel it in every hair of his goatee. “Man with a girl’s name, your ignorance is astounding.”

“Maybe it is,” he blustered. “But least I don’t pretend to be a genius.”

“I'm not pretending.” Her mouth curved. “You show your emotions on your face,” she explained, lifting her hand to trace his jaw without touching. “All I have to do is look between the lines.”

“You’re makin’ less sense than usual,” he bluffed.

“Of course. Crazy lunatic assassin. That’s how they made me,” she said, her fingers so close to his cheek that he could swear she was leaving prints on his skin. “But that was a long time ago. What I am now is more, because I have grown.”

“Yeah?” His mouth was dry but he still tried to dampen his lips. “Into what?”

“What do you see, Jayne?” she whispered. “A weapon? Or a woman?”

He stared into the dark chocolate orbs of her eyes, knowing that no matter what he said he was lost. Still, he tried. “Ain’t there someplace you oughtta be right now? Playing with Kaylee? Or ... or ...”

“Or what, Jayne?”

Each time she said his name a thrill went through him. “Or ...” He swallowed. “Flyin’ the ship?”

“I'm already flying,” she said, stepping back and holding her arms out, twirling around and around so her hair flew out around her head, and her dress lifted, showing her thighs.

“Shit,” he said, but it came out as a sigh.

Immediately she was back at his side, her face close to his, breathing his breath. “You didn’t answer me, Jayne. How do you see me? Weapon or woman?”

He gave up, as he was always going to give up when it came to River. Oh, he was going to fight it every step of the way, but somehow the outcome was already written. “Okay, moonbrain.” He closed his eyes. “Both.”

He didn’t see her smile, but he didn’t have to. He knew the expression lighting her face, changing it from the weapon to the woman, and making her all River. And it would take being shot another dozen times before he was going to admit he quite liked it.

COMMENTS

Wednesday, February 9, 2011 5:01 AM

ANGELLEMARCS


Such a cute story... some fluff with a mix of angst. I love the way River plays with Jayne at the beginning. Telling him he is in fact dying... just not today. Wonderful!!

Wednesday, February 9, 2011 5:54 AM

BLUEHANDEDMENACE


I can't think of another writer's Rayne fic that is so natural, has such depth, and is so simply plausible as yours, Jayne.

Really really enjoying these sideshot explorations of Jayne u have been positiong a while.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011 6:03 AM

BYTEMITE


Friendly.

I like it when it is not overt. Because River is subtle and Jayne is obtuse.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011 3:09 PM

AMDOBELL


I don't normally go for River/Jayne pairings but this flowed so naturally. Beautifully done, Ali D :~)
"You can't take the sky from me!"

Thursday, February 10, 2011 7:00 AM

WAFFENMAC


Wonderful

Sunday, February 13, 2011 5:13 PM

GREENKA61


Very nice. I always wondered if, given a couple of years of character development for Jayne, there wouldn't have been a Jayne-River pairing.


POST YOUR COMMENTS

You must log in to post comments.

YOUR OPTIONS

OTHER FANFICS BY AUTHOR

Monied Individual - Part XIX
“His name’s Jayne?”

“What’s wrong with that?” the ex-mercenary demanded from the doorway.

“Nothing, nothing! I just … I don’t think I’ve ever met a man … anyone else by that name.”

“Yeah, he’s a mystery to all of us,” Mal said. “Even his wife.”

[Maya. Post-BDM. Hank's not out of the woods yet, and Mal has a conversation. Enjoy!]


Monied Individual - Part XVIII
Jayne had told him a story once, about being on the hunt for someone who owed him something or other. He’d waited for his target for three hours in four inches of slush as the temperature dropped, and had grinned when he’d admitted to Hank that he’d had to break his feet free from the ice when he’d finished.
[Maya. Post-BDM. The Fosters show their true colours, Jayne attempts a rescue, and the others may be too late.]


Snow at Christmas
She’d seen his memories of his Ma, the Christmases when he was a boy on Shadow, even a faint echo of one before his Pa died, all still there, not diminished by his burning, glowing celebrations of now with Freya.

[Maya. Post-BDM. A seasonal one-off - enjoy!]


Monied Individual - Part XVII
Jayne hadn’t waited, but planted a foot by the lock. The door was old, the wood solid, but little could stand against a determined Cobb boot with his full weight behind it. It burst open.


[Maya. Post-BDM. The search for Hank continues. Read, enjoy, review!]


Monied Individual - Part XVI
He slammed the door behind him, making the plates rattle on the sideboard. “It’s okay, girl, I ain't gonna hurt you.” The cook, as tradition dictated, plump and rosy cheeked with her arms covered to the elbows in flour, but with a gypsy voluptuousness, picked up a rolling pin.

[Maya. Post-BDM. Kaylee finds the problem with Serenity, and Jayne starts his quest. Read, enjoy, review!]



Monied Individual - Part XV
“Did we …” “We did.” “Why?” As she raised an eyebrow at him he went on quickly, “I mean, we got a comfy bunk, not that far away. Is there any particular reason we’re in here instead?” “You don’t remember?” He concentrated for a moment, and the activities of a few hours previously burst onto him like a sunbeam. “Oh, right,” he acknowledged happily.

[Maya. Post-BDM. A little with each Serenity couple, but something goes bang. Read, enjoy, review!]



“Did we …” “We did.” “Why?” As she raised an eyebrow at him he went on quickly, “I mean, we got a comfy bunk, not that far away. Is there any particular reason we’re in here instead?” “You don’t remember?” He concentrated for a moment, and the activities of a few hours previously burst onto him like a sunbeam. “Oh, right,” he acknowledged happily.

[Maya. Post-BDM. A little with each Serenity couple, but something goes bang. Read, enjoy, review!]


Monied Individual - Part XIV
This wasn’t how an ex-companion did things. Perhaps she’d been hanging around a certain Firefly captain for too long. He listened at keyholes as if it were a competitive sport.

[Maya. Post-BDM. The crew go to the Spring Lights Procession, Mal gives some good news, and Sir Warwick puts in another cameo. Read, enjoy, review!]


Monied Individual - Part XIII
“It’s a family tradition, Mal.” Eugenia patted his hand. “No matter who marries into us, whatever their name, the moment they say ‘I do’ they become Rostovs. So you are Malcolm Rostov. It has a fine ring to it, don’t you think?”

[Maya. Post-BDM. A chapter of Mal and Freya, and a small revelation from Eugenia Rostov. Read, enjoy, review!]


Monied Individual - Part XII
Hank had to shake his head. In this day and age, when the entire output of every quill, pen and two-fingered monkey thumping on a keyboard was available on the Cortex, this statement of wealth and power was way over the top. He loved the feel of paper himself, turning the pages to get to the next twist, scanning the print to try and guess the next turn, but even his collection wouldn’t fill more than a shelf here.

[Maya. Post-BDM. Hank thinks about Zoe, Zoe thinks about Hank, while Freya and Mal have lunch. Read, enjoy, review!]