VIOLENT HEART Chpt 3: Slow Burn *lemon warnings*

:::present time, amid much tossing & turning :::

1.

::toss::

Jayne sat on the end of his bunk, naked, staring at the wall. Couldn't focus. The heat was affecting the bump on his head. Kaylee had been right earlier.

Kaylee.

If it hadn't been for her, Mal would've taken to the sky.

His vision cleared a bit. Saw the collage of girly pin ups on the metal wall. It was too rutting hot to jerk off.

His head started to pound again and he crushed his brow with a fist.

Mal had finally found it in his hide to be civil these last few days - said coming after him hadn't been on his list of priorities. The suspicious ghosts that were following his ass could've easily been after the Serenity and her passengers. Told him he was damn lucky to have someone like Kaylee's caring and concern in the first place.

Jayne fell back on the bunk with a heavy grunt and covered his face with an arm.

Kaylee was always giving out all kinds of caring and concern unsolicited, even to those she shouldn't. Like, in his holy opinion, the doctor.

Or even him. Hell. There was probably plenty o' times she'd been right there by his side (even if she was pissed at him), and damn if he couldn't recall a single one up 'till now.

He took his arm away from his face and suddenly the light wasn't so bad. Even the pain sang a little less loudly.

He rubbed at his bruised chest and closed his eyes.

'Kaylee.'

::turn::

Too tired to wash, Kaylee stripped down to her under things and flopped back on her bunk, hoping beyond hope that she'd be able to finish rebuilding the stabilizer in the morning, and that tonight, for once, she'd be able to fall asleep quick.

That wasn't going to happen.

Earlier, when she finally returned in search of some dinner, the kitchen had been deserted of crew and playing cards and it'd been a while since she talked to anyone but herself.

Which was probably just shiny, as it was ...

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about rainy alleyways, and that drunken, delusional kiss.

Or how he had nearly lost consciousness again soon after. Zoe hadn't seen. She hadn't told anyone. And she didn't think Jayne even remembered. She pictured what Cap'n would do if *he* knew, and it wasn't in a nice way.

And if Simon knew??

Under normal circumstances, she might've fancied Simon a little bit jealous for a change.

But, as it was, she had a sinking feeling that his sister knew. 'Where's the rest of him?' River had asked when he was brought back on board that night, looking pointedly at Kaylee as if to say, Don't forget what I told you, girl.

Kaylee hadn't. But maybe River's influence had been a tad heavy over her thoughts on Jayne. After all, anyone would be a little touched in the head after being mugged. Beaten. Robbed for your favorite gun. Not to mention, probably drugged three ways from Sunday.

That seemed to justify his daily declarations of revenge on every living organism on the planet.

'If we ever git back to Outpost 10, gorramn it ...'

And so it went. And normality of space life continued.

But not for her.

::toss::

Jayne bolted up in bed and was blinded by a carnival of red when he tried to open his eyes.

He closed them quickly.

He'd dozed off dreaming 'bout Kaylee and a long stretch of rain, and ended up smack in the midst of a war nightmare. Damned if he'd fought in any ruttin' war. What was all that about?

Once his breathing slowed, he propped himself up on a pillow and lit a cigar. Eventually, his mind wandered back to more important matters.

Entertaining thoughts of on-board female flesh used to be a favorite past time. It was a might confusing that now all those thoughts centered around 'lil Kaylee.

A lot.

Smoke circled him and settled in the tepid gravity.

He smiled.

He didn't think Mal would like that too much.

::turn::

Kaylee turned onto her side and stared into space, her thoughts turning raw as she headed toward a hazy kind of sleep.

This was more than concern for a shipmate. There was this tingling like fear in the pit of her tummy. She felt it when she bumped into him in the corridors. Felt it when she walked in on him sweating on his bench press. And at the way he'd been staring at her across the dinner table.

It was fear that burned real low and soft-like, and had the lofty ambitions of being a fever.

Not at all like the kind of fear that claimed her on the hard grate floor of her engine room that awful night not so long ago when Jubal Early had crept on board. Although, maybe ... just maybe one of these fears was born from the other.

::toss::

His erection remained almost hard in his grip even after all of him was spent.

He couldn't stop thinking of her. In all those ways. But, then again, there wasn't much in the way of an angelic conscious left to help him stop.

And right now, she was the only thing making the pain go away and sleep more easy.

::turn::

They were soaking wet, pressed against each other, her back all torn up from the hard wall at her back. That was nothing compared to the sensations of his mouth on her skin, the roughness of his beard scrapping her throat, and the night and rain all around them.

His grip around her was crushing and exhilarating, and he raised her hips until her legs wrapped around him on their own accord. He rubbed hard into her, the clothes between them like soaking tissue paper.

::thud::

Kaylee fell out of her bunk and hit the floor in the hardest of ways, waking her from her dream.

The recollection of it came back quick, stapling her to the floor. Sinking feelings and sighs abounded.

"... Oh, no."

2.

Serenity had returned to flying the darkest and outer most fringes where she was the happiest and where her crew took to keeping to themselves, less they step on each other's toes and the only place left to go was the vacuum.

For once, this was just fine with Jayne, who's aim was so normally bogged down by it's ever search for coin and own his gain. He had plenty of goals to keep him busy right now, and he didn't need those other bugbrains getting all up and in his way.

This was a private matter.

At breakfast, Kaylee sat across from him as usual, had eaten next to nothing, and spent most of her time keeping her tired face from turning toward his. She had announced that she had just finished piecing the stabilizer back together, and apologized that it had taken so long seeing as she had had to do it from scratch. The down side - it would take another good 18 to 20 hours for the temp to get to normal.

Not the best news all day, considering. His head hurt worse today, and would continued to do so if the air kept raising in degrees. It was making him see all kinds of weird, and his heart still squeezed as if in a vice.

He took a good guess on what would remedy that, but on his way to the engine room he ran smack into his lest favorite person in the world. And by running into him, he had knocked him clean off his feet.

Jayne glared as the doctor gracefully struggled to his feet, managing to keep his passage blocked. Simon looked back at him rather surprised, catching his breath and having a time of it.

"Move."

"Not until you tell me what hell is wrong with you. Can't you look where you going? Or did you mean that to happen?" Simon was scrutinizing him awfully good and it just made Jayne more mad.

"What?!"

"You feeling all right?"

"If I needed a doctor I'd go find me one," Jayne retorted and pushed past him. Stopped. And whirled on Simon again, his wide, muscular shoulders rolling as he advanced. "You know what? I *ain't* feeling all right. You see, Doc, I got this awful feeling that that moon brain sister of yours has been sneaking around my bunk, taking things that ain't belonging to her. Whadda ya got to say 'bout that, huh?" And poked him in the arm hard.

Simon sized him up a moment. "River wouldn't want anything of yours."

Jayne smiled at him coldly and turned to walk away. "Yeah, well, I'm sure the Captain'd be right happy if he saw River with another gun in those murderous little hands of hers. That best not be the case, boy."

3.

Kaylee's stomach growled as she tidied up the engine room, if nothing else to shock the Captain.

That was silly not eating anything at breakfast. But what could she do? With Jayne staring at her like that. As if he really did remember that rough kiss a week gone by. Maybe she should just confront him about it.

As if in answer to this, she came across a greasy wash cloth, an ominous lump hiding beneath it.

Jayne's gun. The one she had borrowed that night. She wondered if he even noticed a little thing like this missing in the absence of Vera.

She should return it nonetheless.

She picked it up and it weighted heavy in her hand. A shiver of cold shot through her that she must've ignored on the night she'd gone searching for him. She was no good at guns. Or rescue missions. An image of Wash and the Captain and Niska flashed through her head. What had she been thinking?? She could've killed them both! Thank god for Zoe. She should just stay put in this little room and stick to what she did best; machines.

And suddenly she didn't want the weapon anywhere near her anymore. She'd had enough of them.

Intending to hide it in her coveralls until she found Jayne, she strode to the door -

-and jumped back as it slammed open all on it's own.

"Jayne!" Good thing her finger wasn't on the trigger.

"Hey!" He looked pissed and amused all at once, raising his hands in mock defense. "What I do this time?!"

Confusion stalled her until she realized he'd seen the gun.

"Oh." She held it up and let it teeter in her upturned palm, begging him to take the damn thing.

He stared at her over it was if waiting for an explanation. But he knew without asking why she had it. Mock anger furrowed his brow as he finally took it, sticking it deep into his waistband and striding uninvited into her territory.

"You could've just saved your little boyfriend a thrashing if you'd brought it back a week ago," he smirked, crossing his arms and leaning where he wasn't supposed to be leaning.

Argh. The man was infuriating. Now she was looking at him for an explanation.

Sheepish now - "I thought his wacky sister took it."

She shook her head, momentarily forgetting her uncomfortableness.

"He ain't my boyfriend," she said shortly, as if that was the end of that discussion and went back to straightening up.

He stood there and watched her; she knew because she could feel his eyes on her and it irritated the tiny hairs on the the back of her neck.

"You bored?" She tried not to look at him.

"Nope."

She rolled her eyes at him, trying to be nonchalant. There was something going on here. She thought she was ready for it. She wasn't.

"Well, your in my way." She tried to move around him and to an assortment of tools at his back, knowing deep down it must've been a crazy part of her subconscious to do so because she found herself pressing into his side to get him to budge.

Would've been a playful gesture at any earlier point in their acquaintance ...

He was strong as a rutting ox and stayed put. She slowly realized what she was doing, and that his look down at her was not of the innocent variety. His breathing was steady, and the rhythm of it lulled against her, giving her the courage to look him in the eye, albeit from under greasy wisps of hair.

They stood that way forever, all curious. He leaned into her; and she held her breath. His eyes were heavy and warm and complex when they were so normally not. Yet, she was intimidated to agree with everything they were telling her.

He saw the acceptance in her eyes just as there was noise in the corridor outside.

Before a presence at the door could interrupt them, he slid himself around her - she felt him all warm against her back when there was plenty of room to do otherwise in the cabin - nonchalantly picked up a wrench or two, and slowly made for the door.

Inara was standing there.

How much the Companion had seen, Kaylee wasn't sure. The look Inara turned on her as Jayne slid passed and out of sight said she'd seen something and was a trifle confused.

"Kaylee. Was I interrupting something??"

Kaylee smoothed her hair back and smiled. "No. Not at all. Just Jayne being Jayne. You know."

Inara raised an eyebrow.

"Mmm. And with your tools, no less. You're not honestly letting him fix anything on this ship, are you?" she asked amused. "We're too far out in space for him to break anything important."

Kaylee laughed and turned her back, fussing over the mess she had on the floor and moving it to the bench. "Oh. Don't worry 'bout him. I think he's redecorating."

"I do worry about him."

Kaylee could see she wasn't fooling Inara one bit.

But this time it was none of the Companion's business.

If something *was* happening here, no one else stood to gain by knowing about it.

Kaylee smiled at her empathetically. "He's had it kinda rough lately. He'll come around."

Inara nodded as Kaylee moved past her and toward the dining hall, suddenly starving and wanting to be away from this conversation. She was too far ahead to hear Inara mumble after her.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

4.

Once back in her own bunk, Kaylee stood in front of her mirror in a frumpled daze, surveying the mess, not feeling self-conscious until just now at the way Jayne had silently stared right into her.

As she washed, she had a awful feeling that an invitation had been issued. And somewhere along the line, she had accepted. Or was about to.

Flirting with Jayne was so far removed from flirting with Simon. When she pictured this happening in her mind, she was so sure Jayne would be all talk. But nothing was ever how it seemed.

And thinking of Simon, she best be going to check on him. Who knew if Jayne was bluffing her about the supposed thrashing.

Clean and minimally primped, she found the young doctor in the infirmary, note taking as usual. He didn't notice her.

"Hi."

The tap on the shoulder startled him. He saw her, let his gaze linger a bit, making her blush.

"Hi, yourself."

"Came to check on ya. Jayne said he'd run into ya."

"Literally."

Kaylee winced. "Oo. That was my fault. Sorry."

Simon put his pen down and gave her his full attention. "Come again. I highly doubt -"

"He was missing o' piece of artillery. You know how he is 'bout that. Anyway, I had it. Unfortunate for you, I took my time returnin' it," she smiled, trying for carefree and light and seeming nervous.

He crossed his arms and returned her smile slowly. "Hmm. You had it."

Before he could go on with all the things wrong with that picture, she quickly stopped him. "Yeah. Scary, huh." She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands.

His smiled widened. He waited. He knew there was something else. "And you ...*just* came to check on me?"

Her lips parted. Could everyone see right through her today?

"Umm. Actually. I figured you'd be alright. Heck, you always are. It's just that, I ..."

"Wanted my further diagnosis of the man-ape?"

She rewarded him with a dry look.

He turned slyly away from it and pretended to study his notes. "Actually, there you'd be out of luck. I still have no idea what his little playmates pumped him full of. He *seems* to be recovering..." He faced her again, slightly smug. "But who can ever tell."

"Hmm. Gee. Thanks, Doctor."

She couldn't help the genuine amusement that seeped through, although she tried to rein it in before she turned to go, leaving him staring after her. If she was going to do what she had set her mind on, things between her and Simon would never be the same. If there'd ever been a 'Kaylee and Simon' to begin with.

5.

Everyone seemed otherwise occupied. Serenity's corridors were calm, the heat hardly giving up it's struggle.

Kaylee wished she could say the same.

Jayne's door was nondescript, but she was seeing past it to a rain swept alley way all dark with blood and wind and fish. And her wrench set.

Damn him. He'd gone and done this on purpose. Yes, it *did* give her an excuse, but -

No. No. No.

Serenity needed fixing somewhere - she'd just go and find it. So what if she just got all clean. At least the machines made sense.

6.

Jayne went heavier on the weights than usual, and he'd been in no mood to ask the preacher to spot him. He was in the middle of a set when the pain happened. It seared his brain like lightning in a bottle.

His arms locked and the bar was suspended and shaking above him.

Five seconds.

Seven. Nine.

He was riveted to the spot, his back now drenched with sweat and sticking to the bench.

Flashes of yellow, orange, then red lit up the room. Blank faces from a rainy night danced around him; unfriendly familiar faces. Couldn't make out any of them now.

Jayne gritted his teeth in frustration, somehow managing to drop the weight bar back in it's cradle, sitting up way too fast and loosing his head.

Damn if this wasn't the flu or heat sickness helping to ignite the bruises on his rutting skull. Might account for the short term memory loss -

he shook his head to clear it; a dollop of blood hit his hand.

Not to mention the nose bleeds.

He used the towel on his shoulder. Slung it back when the blood was gone.

Hell, even the events of the day were fading fast.

And had he been to see Kaylee? The sensation of her was vague at best and he figured a wash and some sleep awaited him back in his quarters to help revive that little memory.

So he was a little shocked and pleased all at once when he turned the corner and saw her fretting over knocking on his door.

7.

Mechanic won out over moonbrain in the end, and Kaylee stole her fist back to her breast, not brave enough to knock. An unexpected ache went through her; she wasn't sure if she'd ever be brave enough.

She turned away and came to a swift stop. He stood there, at the bend in the hall, sweating in cut-off cargos and a t-shirt, watching her in such a way that made her figure she'd surprised him. Then she looked again. Maybe not.

He knew.

And she wasn't about to disagree with him.

8.

They were clumsy at first. Neither one could talk straight. So they didn't. His shirt came off first. Then her pants. It happened fast with all the momentum of a speeding train, yet somehow, he couldn't get over her lips.

And her hair. He clutched fist fulls of it, kicked off his pants, and pulled her back onto the cot with him.

No time for romantic pretensions or candlelight here. Or baths.

Still in underwear and a tiny paisley cotton shirt, she pushed him back against the steel of his bedroom wall, and straddled him, marveling in his nakedness between her legs. He gripped her hips and pressed her into him and their simultaneous moans made them equally giddy and eager. His rough face and beard laughed against her neck and she ripped her shirt over her head, barely giving him time to access her breasts before pulling his face to hers and loosing herself in him.

Couldn't think. Couldn't breath.

He clawed at her back until she couldn't stand it anymore, and with one deft rip, tore apart her underwear and rocked into her in a single, violent thrust.

The pain and longing of it didn't stop either of them. Been so long.

It was the horrifying need he felt at the sounds of her moans and whimpers and her blind fight for control as she rode hard into him, that pushed him further out of all the painful red of the day and into the whiteness that surrounded her and he locked both arms around her in a death grip.

The vibrations deep inside his chest of grunts and strangled sighs told her to let go, and she was so far gone when she came that all sound was lost to her ears.

They sat that way forever, afterwards; her head nestled in the wet and wonderfully musty crook of his neck.

Finally his grip loosened, and she let herself fall into his tumbled blankets, too hot to cover herself. He tilted his head back against the wall and said nothing, all the while watching her nakedness glisten in the garish light bulb over the bed.

She must've dozed off shortly there after. When she opened her eyes again, his back was to her, his pants were on, 'though still unzipped, and he was watching her through a wift of cigar smoke over one shoulder. For once, she didn't disapprove of the smell. His smile was soft, but mischievous.

"How can you sleep in this heat? Didn't you fix that damn thing?"

She sat up, pulling herself up behind him and covered herself with the sheet he had obvious draped over her. Being mundane was the furthest from her mind. Her body hummed and ached as she situated herself, but didn't answer him. The smirk disappeared. Slight confusion set in as he continued to clean a very large knife.

She knew how he felt.

Her voice cracked small and hoarse into their quiet speculation of each other. "So you *do* remember what happened in that alley. Between us."

There was a long pause. And then -

"Nope."

Her jaw dropped a little. He could see that sexy and obvious overbite from the corner of his eye and raised an eyebrow at her. He couldn't put her at ease with the half-assed explanation that sat ready and waiting from his head. So he didn't. Instead, he settled on a slightly befuddled, "The last thing I can picture from that night is you yelling your gorramn head off at me in the junk yard, and me coming after an' rescuing your little ass." He looked at her then, in grim amusement. "And then the next thing I was told, you had come after me."

She couldn't give him an explanation for that, either. She searched the hard, bruised face that was surprising open and trusting before her until he turned away with a soft grunt.

"That was the stupidest gorramn thing I ever heard of. And you've done plenty of stupid things."

"Excuse me!" She had a time of untangling herself from his sheets as she stood and faced him, tossing his cigar into the open toilet. "Like that time you -"

"Oh, calm down, dammit." And he grabbed for the blanket she clutched around herself, leaving her suddenly naked. She ignored him and searched for her clothes. He stood and tried to get in her way, aching to touch her again, even accidentally, before she took off and hid from him the remainder of his life.

All she managed to find was her shirt.

"Where's my clothes?!" He pulled a torn pair of panties from his pocket as a peace offering. She grabbed for them, but he was too rutting tall. She only succeeded in getting herself all up and against him. And he smelled clean. How long had she been asleep? She calmed as a large rough hand cupped the back of her head, making her look up at him.

His voice was all unsteady, and she liked that. "I ...do remember a little."

She wrapped herself around him and couldn't bring herself to leave.

--------------------------------

Chapter Four: Hard Burn ... is next. Relish the fluffiness in this chapter, dear readers. You might hate me after the next one .... Bwhahahahaha!