Disclaimer: They ain’t my characters and it ain’t my ‘verse and no money changed hands. Thank You List includes Joss and the gang for inspiration, Jacqui the Goddess of Jaylee for beta and a great deal of support and encouragement, and to my own dear big, bad man for providing certain, …er, technical resources and guidance. Bein’ as this is my very first fanfic, all comments, suggestions and feedback are most appreciated. If ya don’t wanna talk, please just click a rating. Can’t make it better if I don’t know what’s broke.

Waited Long Enough Part Two: Picking a Target

Jayne sat in the soft light at the large oak dining table in the galley one evening after the rest of the crew had turned in, reflecting on his new situation. He methodically honed his Bowie knife on a large oilstone, periodically testin’ the edge on the dark hairs that shaded his forearm until it was shavin’ sharp.

Ten percent of the ship’s take, well that was better’n he’d ever been offered. The rest of the crew seemed decent enough – kept themselves clean and appeared to respect the Cap’n. His quarters were small, but the bunk weren’t half bad and he didn’t have to share it with anyone unless he could figure out how to get that pretty little mechanic into it.

Then he thought about Mal’s rules.

Rule Number One was “Speak civil-like”.

Rule Number Two was “Keep your hands to yourself.”

He just knew those rules were gonna be a problem. Firstly, his mouth just had a way a spurtin’ out remarks before he had time to reflect on how they might come across to others. And keepin’ his hands off womenfolk, especially off that sweet, hot little mechanic – well that rule would prove to have it’s own set of challenges and temptations for a man like him. It hadn’t taken him long to figure that one out.

His first few weeks on Serenity showed him the girl was every bit the natural-born flirt he suspected she’d be. Her amazing knack with the ship’s complex machinery earned her no small amount of respect in his mind.

Watchin’ her at work in the ship’s engine room was a pure revelation. The heat and intensity she exuded when she had her hands deep in the ship’s workin’s led him to conclude the tale he’d heard from Wash about her screwin’ her way on board to get a closer look at Serenity’s engine was most likely true.

Funny the things get a woman all heated up, he mused.

Jayne knew he was good with women, never had to want for getting laid if he set his sights on some gal. Even when he paid for his fun, he enjoyed pleasurin’ his partners, taking no small amount of pride in his ability to surprise them with his skill and attention to their needs.

Early on, he’d learned to read women, to take notice of the subtle changes in their body language that signaled availability, a skill he’d cultivated just like his skills as a marksman and fighter, just as he assessed weakness in those men he faced across a gun barrel.

Lil’ Kaylee had more dimples than Jayne had guns. And the tilt of her sweet, womanly hips and the way her pupils dilated when she looked at him were dead giveaways that she was sizin’ him up, too. He noticed how she liked to wander into the cargo bay and hang around while he was working out, could feel her eyes on him, all hungry-like.

He savored his glimpses of her, too, especially her feminine form when it wasn’t bein’ partially camouflaged by dirty coveralls, the sweet curve of her little bottom when her britches pulled taut as she climbed the ship’s ladders or the perky swell of her breasts under the tank tops she often wore. The latter got especially entertainin’ when the ship was a mite chilly and her nips revealed themselves. Now that’s right sweet, he thought to himself, imagining how the rosy flesh would feel between his lips or under his callused hands. Against his thigh, his cock filled and shifted, responding to the images in his head. Patience, you monster, he thought and grinned. And then there was the way she smelled, a soft, warm mixture of honey and lavender, girl sweat and essence of Serenity.

With no room for such work in his snug quarters, the merc took to doin’ routine maintenance on his guns at the dining table late at night, methodically breaking down and cleaning each part before reassembling the weapons. His life and livelihood depended on those weapons, and this was a task he could do in his sleep, the repetition and familiarity of it calming him.

Quietly watching him after supper one night, Kaylee thought to herself, Why, look at how he works on them guns! He’s got the same kinda feelin’s I do when I’m fixin’ Serenity, and the realization surprised her. She hadn’t thought of the two of them having much in common apart from the heat they each felt for the other, a heat both were struggling to suppress. ****

It was Kaylee who first upped the ante. She began making a point of sittin’ across from him at meals so she could watch him, teasing him when he took third helpings to everyone else’s seconds, “Don’t you ever get enough, Jayne Cobb?”

He looked up from his plate, one eyebrow raised and a lewd grin on his handsome face and held her eyes for just a moment as if daring her, before answerin’, “Depends on what’s bein’ offered, now, don’t it?”

The folks around the table erupted in laughter, intrigued by the play between the two, and wonderin’ where it was headed. Mal had a pretty good idea and he wasn’t happy. Not at all.

Aware of the fine line he was walkin’, Jayne enjoyed the blushes that surged across her apple cheeks when the talk turned suggestive. Kiddin’ with Kaylee across the table, he knew it weren’t no accident when she slipped her bare foot up between his thighs and gently rested her toes against his groin, grinnin’ back at him all twinkly like.

It weren’t no accident, either, when Kaylee began askin’ him to help her down in the engine room when she had trouble reachin’ cables and connections or had to disconnect some heavy part.

“Hey, Jayne,“ she’d say. “Can you give me a hand a bit later?”

Hell, he thought, you can have both hands an’ my John Thomas, too, you keep lookin’ at me like that…

It seemed natural that she would team up with him for the crew’s occasional games of hoopball. As if Jayne’s strength and height wasn’t already advantage enough, the game became even more one-sided when he squatted down and Kaylee clambered up onto his shoulders, disregarding the others’ cries of “Foul!”.

The heat and sweet woman-smell of her astride his wide shoulders as they piggy-backed the ball through the hoop was enough to make him ache and, as he swung her down following the game, he held her hard against him just a minute longer than necessary.

Her sharp intake of breath left no doubt that she was as aware as he of the erotic tension between them and then the moment passed as she punched him in the arm, hard, and ran off gigglin’. In a way, she was kinda like a little sister, except Jayne kept finding himself thinking things about her even he knew you didn’t think about sisters.

It was pretty gorramn clear lil’ Kaylee was one hot-blooded woman and Jayne was lookin’ forward to explorin’ just where her nature and his inclinations might lead them, given patience on his part.

The hell with Mal and his “Hands Off” rule! The gal wanted him as bad as he did her and some things were worth takin’ a chance on. But this lil’ gal’s gonna require some care, he thought. She ain’t no whore an’ I gotta go on workin’ an’ livin’ with her.

As impulsive as his worrisome mouth might be at times, the mercenary could be patient an’ deliberate when a job called for it – like when he needed to make a long distance shot from cover. Yep, he set his sights, let his breath go slow and even an’ took down the target.

An’ the target he was aimin’ for was Miss Kaywinnet Lee Frye.

Kaylee of the chestnut hair, Kaylee of the impossibly seductive chocolate eyes, Kaylee who bounced an’ jiggled an’ laughed in all the right ways an’ damn near made Jayne crazy with wantin’ her.

Then suddenly, things went south the way a job sometimes went bad out of the blue.