Didn't solicit a beta this time, but thanks again to my three original Senseis and princessnipnip for confidence-giving.

The Measure of a Jayne, Part 2

Kaylee fumbled her cabin door open, flew into sanctuary, stripped her outer clothes off and dove into bed, flushed face down. No use. No hope for it. She tried to tell herself that nothing happened. Nothing. She’d held his hand till he fell asleep and that was all she’d held. Absolutely.

But the charged up clockspring tightness below her navel said she’d better quit lying. Although Kaylee wasn’t beyond obfuscating to others when telling the truth would only hurt ‘em terrible bad, she always spoke truth to herself, even if she was the only one she was talking to.

So Jayne’s nurse rolled over onto her back and let her train of thought steam on through, engine fully stoked from the way he’d looked, innocent strong big fully equipped blameless male parts laid out, then levitatin’ in her hand’s grasp.

That same hand that’d so recently held his cock now streaked down inside her plain white panties, touching what her nethers already told her brain was furious moisture. Getting wet and wetter just from recollecting Jayne’s own.

Might could have saved herself this particular horizontal exercise, mighta done without the need to stroke and fondle her body toward completion using this mind-fecking Jayne imagery, if not for the fact that she’d involved two senses in her explorin’ when just one woulda likely done. A quick visual and then a quicker exit mighta left no brain-scarring at all.

Nope, she couldn’t have left it to one sense. Weren’t enough for her to look, she’d gorram-well had to touch, had to take exactin’ engineerin’ measurements as if to sculpt him from memory outta cold engine grease later on.

Two senses were all she’d used for explorin’ Jayne’s terrain? Was a sheep-humpin’ wonder she hadn’t tilted her damn head down a few inches more, far enough to inhale his smell and further still to have a taste.

That woulda been just about complete sensory overload. But the last sense, hearing, couldn’t have added to the fun ‘less she had him on top of her, heard him on top of her. His voice lost somewhere, part inside him and part inside her, moaning her name as he came…

Body near-sunfishing, fetal positioned around her hand clenched inside her, Kaylee shuddered gut-hard, drenched in sweat and woman wet. Had time to enjoy the cascading clatter and fall of relentless orgasm, a four-banger, tick, tick, tick, tick-- before sad guilt dragged her back.

Not guilt at rubbin’ one out. Hell no. She’d been doin’ that since she was four and her ma found her spread-thighed and friction-moving on the corner of her bed, ma closing the door on her way out. Nah, that had ever been a non-guilty pleasure, no denying!

Not sadness at not havin’ Jayne here to do her hand’s work (Simon. Make that Simon. The young doctor was who she wanted here, who she always wanted here. Not Jayne. Never Jayne.)

The bad feelings chasing the pleasure were at taking advantage of a sick man, a man she didn’t even want. Yeah, that was it.

And she made herself believe it, that the masturbatin’ didn’t have a tinker’s damn to do with Jayne or Jayne’s equipment, sufficient at least for her to get some rest that night.

So much for utter honesty with herself.

Truthsomeness could apparently be adjusted to suit the need at hand. Right now, said need owed adjustment due as much to the lateness of the hour as what quantity of truth her mind was up to swallowing. A small voice gave her that grace this time as she drifted away.

~~~

Next morning the doc woke Jayne up with the stab of a syringe full of meds from one long-fingered hand and a fingering of the head wound’s bandaging from the other.

Jayne shot to consciousness with the energy to slap the head-handling appendage away while simultaneously keeping his hip still, which Simon took to be a good sign. Jayne’s senses being alive enough to make him annoying while also showing mind-sense such that Simon’s needlework went unmolested meant the patient’s reactions were approaching normal.

All senses “go” meant the big troglodyte could get the hell out of the only place on the ship Simon could call his sanctum that much sooner. The doctor finished the injection and turned to make notes with an almost undetectable smile.

Kaylee walked in as the doc left his notes to peel back Jayne’s head dressing while reaching for fresh gauze and antiseptic.

The little mechanic rushed over to help, upsetting the bottle of wound cleanser but neatly catching it between a hip and the counter. The doc smiled and wedged the bottle from Kaylee’s body’s grasp, nodding at the bandages by way of asking her to hold them until needed.

Armed with nursing supplies, Kaylee stood by and took a look at Jayne’s head, careful not to meet his eyes just yet. The wound looked queasifyin’ but she breathed deep and stood tall so as to be of the best assistance.

When an uncomfortable silence filled the room after Simon cleaned, rebandaged the patient and then turned away to the sink, she finally swept her vantage point from Jayne’s plastered-down head of hair to his open eyes and noticed for the first time how ever-so soft and deep blue they were.

Never gave a thought to his eyes before, wondered what her fixatin’ on them now was about. Might be they weren’t normally that fetching, could be bright now due to fever or on account of the drugs.

She felt a twinge of concern, a yen for him to heal up right as rain and she felt glad of Simon being there to help Jayne heal. And to help her keep her mind on her future beau and off the one her hand had found all unconscious the night before.

O’ course she could light shrine-incense forever in prayer and still not have Simon ever notice her the way she noticed him. Just how long was a girl supposed to use all her best wiles with nary a result to encourage her? The choice of beaus on this boat was mighty minimal, there was only Simon and Jayne, really. And Jayne was out of the question.

Jayne was… Oh hell. Jayne was swai. Not almost pretty swai like the doctor. No, Simon was softly handsome, lithesome. Graceful-walking, graceful talking.

The doctor was what Kaylee was not, and as a consequence, perhaps, he was what her girlish dreams had long insisted on in a prince to carry her away.

Jayne was more like her. Similar raisings, near enough double to her way of talkin’, devilish sense of humor and even sexual experience, if his rambling and shameless boasting was to be believed.

Jayne had begun to carry her away, lately, in a whole different direction she wanted Simon on a white stallion to gallop her to. The merc was sharp-planed hardness everywhere. Well, everywhere Kaylee’d had time to inspect.

She owed all manner of burnin’ fragrance in penance after that fong luh act of hers the night before, fondling Jayne’s bits as if she’d had a right to ‘em. That thought was a mistake since it led her right back to the aforesaid night and the attached revelations she’d sorta successfully crowded from her memory in the wee hours.

There was today to get through, and after today, tonight. She hoped it’d just be her and fatigue in her bunk, or failing that, a visionary Simon covering her and pushing inside her since the flesh and blood version weren’t interested and would likely always be disinclined.

She looked at Simon’s back, slim and tall, regal even, near the counter, then looked back at Jayne. Even poorly and prone, the big merc made the room fairly bulge with his strength’s potential. It seemed to radiate off the man like gentility did offa Simon.

If Simon stepped outta the room, Jayne would still make the room seem full of men. Kaylee wondered at that, then derailed that particular train of thought when Simon handed her a heated bowl of soup for the patient’s nourishing breakfast.

Kaylee tucked a cloth around Jayne’s neck, mindful of the drips into his ear the day before. Jayne surprised his little nurse when his hand reached up to help her tuck the cloth edge beneath his neck, smiling up at her, enjoying the view of her tee-shirt covered bosom a scant inch from his shoulder’s edge.

“He’s better this morning. Grabbed my arm when I began an injection into his hip.”

“That’s great,” murmured Kaylee, who thought to wonder how he went from near-coma last night to miraculous strength this very next morning. Any way he coulda….

“…shoulda known you and Kaylee takin’ such good care a’ me made all the difference,” said Jayne in a dim imitation of his bullhorn voice’s former bluster. “I ‘preciate it and all, is what I’m sayin’. That and the soup. Th’ soup’s good. You make it, Kaylee?”

“Yeah. Got some mushrooms and greens to add to the chicken fat we liberated on our last stop. Book thought the vegetables and the fat’d give you strength. Guess it worked, huh?”

She spooned some broth into his mouth, saving him the need to reply while she used the brief respite to spin her thoughts into comforting patterns. Conjuring self-assuring thoughts such that he didn’t know, couldn’t know, wouldn’t have no way of knowing...

He knew.

He laid there swallowing steadily, and he knew. Even when the full spoon piston'd liquid nutrition into him faster between swallows, almost as if to keep him from thinking on anything else, he knew. And he knew she knew he knew.

Easy though. The ticket was to go easy. Go gentle and slow. Didn’t want to spook her. She was a prize horse to be broke. But broke right. If you rush things, riding’s impossible. And he wanted to ride. She did too, he knew it now.

Hwoon dahn, she’d come to the knowing without him doing a dadburn thing. He felt like Sleeping Beauty on earth that was, she who had come alive to love’s kiss. All he’d had to do was get grievous hurt, fall asleep and wake up to her touch. Felt a rise at the memory and repositioned his good leg to mask it.

What happened to “easy now?” He had time. Healing takes time and he weren’t going nowhere. She weren’t going nowhere neither. Only so far a little girl could go when her house’s fencing was all solid bulkhead.

Her eyes’d been on him almost the whole time since she walked into the medlab this morning. Eyes full of Jayne, not the prissy doctor. Jayne was keeping score and it was looking good. Damn good.

Kaylee stayed with him till the soup bowl got bare, then she hurried away, looking puzzled, thoughts all turned inward. Jayne leaned up from the pillows, propping himself on his elbows and got out a, “Bye Kaylee,” as she turned to leave, not turning back around or acknowledging his speakin’ farewell.

Simon took Jayne’s vitals while Jayne took out his frustration amusing himself by swatting at either one of the young doctor’s girly-man hands that came within reach.

Patience incarnate, the doctor went about his duties toward this most difficult of patients, carefully reciting under his breath the beginning of the sacred Hippocratic oath, “First, do no harm.” He’d found it was the best, most reliable way to endure the Neanderthal’s fong luh antics.

It was that or finish the job the ranchers did, ma-shong. Most assuredly a tempting thought, no denying, but sadly, not an option. Blasted Hippocratic oath left no room for mercy-killing.

End of Part 2

Author’s plea: Hey! You read fanfic but you don’t leave feedback? Even if you don’t like it, I’d like to hear how you felt about what you read here. Dong ma? It’s easy and can be done anonymously. Just click the button. Even Jayne could do it! (A big thanks to those of you who do. Feedback is what makes me want to write more.)

hwoon dahn: son of a bitch mah-shong: in a hurry. fong luh: crazy dong ma?: Do you understand?