Disclaimer: all things Firefly/Serenity are the property of Whedon et al. I'm not making a bit of coin on this; just playing with his toys, is all.

Note: not a bunch of action here, but stuff is happening.

Chapter three “A man who cain’t find work ain’t lookin’ hard enough.” Only bit’a advice that hwoon dun father ever gave worth keepin’, Jayne thought bitterly. His lip twitched at the thought of what that man had done to his ma nearly three years ago. “So here I am.” He eyed the man before him.

“So you is.” The man was smaller, but tougher looking. He chomped the cigar a few times then spit. “First ship?”

“Yes, sir.”

Breathing deeply on the cigar, he blew smoke into the young man’s face. “Sir ain’t a name I cotton to. Captain’ll do.” He gave Jayne the once over. “How old is ya?”

Jayne pushed his shoulders back and lifted his chin. “Old enough.”

“Big enough, I figure.” He chomped his cigar again. “Git yer belongin’s and meet here ‘fore seven.”

Jayne thumbed behind him. “I’m set now.”

“Shiny, but ya still gotta hold.” He spit again then chuckled. “Bein’ too eager is like t’get ya killed, boy. Cool yer jets.” He walked back up the narrow ramp into the bowels of the ship.

Jayne stood and worked his jaw thinkin’ hard on what he should do. Passers-by sniggered at the teenaged man trying very hard to reckon. His brain then thought of something real good. “My name’s Jayne. Jayne Cobb!” he called after the man.

After the howl of laughter, a still giggling voice came back with “Didn’t ask.”

Later... The pilot’s chair had become a second home to River. Even when nothing was happening, she would sit at that place, letting the lights dance into her brain and twinkle her thoughts. It was warm and comfortable and still felt like Wash. She grinned at the triceratops. He was still being funny.

She reached for another coloured pencil, a darker one, and began filling in some lines. Her hair hung heavy onto the page, obscuring her sight, but not her vision. She saw Serenity, felt her starting to smile again. Family was back and the pieces were beginning to fit into their proper places.

Without looking up, she answered the silent question. “Drawing.”

Mal smirked. “That I can see.” He looked over her shoulder then took a step back when her eyes warned him not to do that. “Just come to see how the ship’s doin’.” He examined a few dials and the wave log.

“They haven’t called back,” River said softly, resuming her art.

“Hasn’t been too long,” Mal said just as softly. “Imagine it might take a day or two just t’get the wave.

River paused in her colouring for a moment. The Captain was attempting to justify to himself why the Training House was taking its time in answering the message he’d sent. His mind was trying to hold onto an illusion that Inara was not going away a second time.

“Well, guess I better do some captain-like business on this boat.” He straightened from the console and caught a glimpse of the red image on the page. “Nice dragon.”

The girl lifted her head up. “It’s just about the same.”

“Same as what, darlin’?”

“The one we lost.”

Not wanting to venture further into the surreal that River often occupied, the Captain nodded and strode out of the bridge. He went to the galley, poured himself a coffee and was about to sit with it when the muffled, but painful cry hit his ears. “Run-tse duh fwo-tzoo. Now what?”

Stomping from the mess to the general direction of the sound, he found Kaylee on a bed with Jayne, the mercenary holding up an ugly yellow and orange bit of yarn. Mal then saw Jayne’s eyes roll back and his body slump down. He slowly blinked. Idiot got himself passed out. The possibility of hauling the merc to the infirmary was givin’ him no joy.

Stepping inside, he gently pulled the mechanic away from Jayne amid her confusion.

“I don’t get it,” she started. “I knowed he wasn’t doin’ real great, but he seemed okay.” She looked to the Captain. “This ain’t good, is it?”

“No, Kaylee, it ain’t.” He saw the expanded patch of red on Jayne’s shirt. “Go get the Doc.”

Simon kept shaking his head. “I told him,” he kept muttering. “Don’t do anything to aggravate the internal injuries or the stitching. But what do I know. I’m just the doctor. Hold that forcep here.”

Mal did as instructed. Had been for the last half hour since dragging Jayne’s unconscious carcass back to the infirmary after hearing the scream he’d tore through the ship from being dumb. Seeing Kaylee on the bed with him was more than a little creepifying for the Captain, but not so much as the blood that was seeping out of Jayne. His little tantrum had ruptured the incision the good Doctor had done in fixin’ his inides.

So here he was being nurse to an idiot.

“Don’t take it too personal, Doc. He near on never listens to me.”

A few minutes later, both men were washing up. “I’ve done extra stitching to help secure the hold. Assuming he doesn’t do any more asinine moves, it should heal.”

The Captain was about to leave when Simon called. “Captain, about Jayne’s injuries. I think it’s about time you told me the entire situation.” He faced Mal. “What happened to him?”

As a doctor, Simon knew full well what happened through the types of injuries Jayne sustained. But that wasn’t really what the physician was asking. Mal thought on the memory a bit and sighed. “I think, Doctor, that explanation might take more time than I got for it.”

“The abridged version then.”

Mal looked hard at Simon’s face, seeing the same determination so many times before in regards to his sister. If nothing else, besides being the best damn doctor Mal had ever encountered, he was mostly the same stubborn as himself. Simon wasn’t about to let the issue go. And, were he to be truthsome, Mal figured that the entire crew needed to know. If that go se Information Man was any indication, there’d be more folk lookin’ to cash in on what Serenity had done.

“After dinner.” He strode from the lab. “Get everyone t’gether after dinner an’ you’ll hear.” He didn’t look to see Simon’s mix of confusion and frustration. Didn’t want to. “Then you’ll have more cause to worry than ya do already,” he said quietly.

“You really are dumb, Jayne Cobb,” Kaylee reprimanded. “Went and did some fool thing and now look at where y’are.” She pushed her legs out from the stool she sat on. Jayne was asleep. “You need to be extra sweet t’Simon, with strawberries on top!” She half frowned then stood. “Oh, hi, River.” She looked to the young girl. “Whatya got there?” She pointed to the paper in her hands.

“Son of heaven.” She stepped into the infirmary. “Formidable and dangerous.” She stared at Jayne. “Vigilant and intractable.” She tilted her head. “He lost his way.”

Kaylee was not quite sure what River meant, but smiled anyway. “Sure is a pretty picture.”

“Nearly the same.” She held it over Jayne’s left shoulder. “Holds the pearl.” She smiled then looked to Kaylee. “It is pretty, isn’t it?”

That was when Kaylee noticed the gauze covering a patch of Jayne’s arm right where his tattoo was. She stole a peek under the patch and was appalled. The entire tattoo had been removed by slicing the skin off, and deep by the looks of it. She gaped at River.

“Don’t worry, li’l Kaylee. His dragon has come home. Not lost anymore.” Stepping back, River handed Kaylee the image and flitted away. The mechanic was left saddened. Jayne had suffered so much and for no reason.

“Oh, Jayne,” she sighed and held the paper tight.

Before... Mal stood at the weight bench, statue-like. He must have stared at the contraption a full five minutes, not moving, barely breathing. What in hell was he doing here? This wasn’t his thing. Never had been. Running for his life had been exercise enough during the war and the daily lack of fully nutritious meals in the seven years since hadn’t exactly made the Captain a blob.

But here he was, cut off shorts and undershirt, all set to give the machine a workout.

“I’ve been told that staring is an effective means of building muscle,” Inara commented.

“I’ve been told that those without somethin’ good t’say best keep their mouths shut,” Mal retorted.

“I guess, then, that this will be our last words to each other,” she countered and laced her fingers together in front. “Mal, what are you trying to accomplish?”

He narrowed his eyes, wanting to look her way. The question wasn’t simple and wasn’t directed at the weights. “Don’t want it gettin’ rusted.” He groaned to himself. Lame.

Inara only lowered her head a little. “Shepherd Book liked to use it, didn’t he?”

“Mm,” Mal grunted.

She took a step forward. “He was a part of this crew.”

“Surely was.”

“We all miss him,” she added after a beat.

He faced her, nearly laughing. Companions and shepherds weren’t supposed to get along. Something about fire, brimstone and immortal hell. “Like Kaylee’ll miss you, you go on again.” He wasn’t sure where that had come from, but he was the Captain and what he said was never meant to be taken back. Inara smiled lightly. Are you asking me to stay, Captain Reynolds? “She is dear.”

“Don’t rightly know how she’ll take t’that, you bein’ gone. Could be not pretty.”

Inara only stared at Mal, wanting him to say the words.

When the silence was overwhelming, he stepped forward, straddled the bench and twisted. “First time’s always the hardest, I s’pose. Reckon it’ll get easier.” He leaned back and lifted the bar from the cradle, immediately realising that he had too much weight on it.

But damn it, he wasn’t about to let her see him struggle. Somehow, he managed to push it up.

The Companion recognised her cue to leave and she glided from the cargo hold back to her shuttle. Pausing at the top of the catwalk, she peered down to see Mal sitting again, his arms loose at his side. “Foolish pride,” she muttered then turned to enter her shuttle.

It was the scruffiness of his face that made Kaylee pull out a razor and lather some soap. It had been five days since Jayne’s return and he was in and out of awakeness. After the week of hell he’d gone through, she figured he deserved a little tender care.

Carefully applying the warm water, she lathered the bar in her hand and spread the foam across his cheek and neck, mindful of the bandage. Taking the razor, she began scraping. “Ya don’t got t’worry about me slicin’ yer neck, Jayne,” she began. “I watched my daddy plenty when he took a blade to his whiskers.” She cleaned the razor in a basin of warm water and continued. “I know how to be gentle while still gettin’ the job done. I ever tell you about this one ship that come in. My dad couldn’t make head nor tail of the thing...”

Kaylee talked a steady stream of home and helping her pa work on all kinds of engines and ships. She’d learned much from him and was always glad he was so open to teaching her. When she would feel a pain of homesickness, the young woman would open her tool kit and pull out the spanner her father had given her special.

“Ya got the gift, Kaywinnit.” He handed the tool over. “Go get that space heap Firefly inta somethin’ prettier. Somethin’ good enough fer my girl.”

Kaylee smiled on the memory as she pulled a final stroke across Jayne’s face, at least as much of it that she could access. She stood back and admired the job with a grin. “Lookin’ heaps better, Jayne.” She wiped a bit of soap from his chin. “Women like a clean shaved man. Don’t scratch nearly as much.” She wondered if he would be upset her having taken off his moustache and goatee. She shrugged; it would grow in.

“Kaylee!” Simon said with a startle. He gazed at his former girl holding a blade to the mercenary. “What are you doing?”

The mechanic understood the scene and laughed. “Oh heck, Simon, don’t worry. Ain’t gonna slash his throat none.” She smiled down at Jayne. “Just makin’ him a bit pretty, is all.” Taking the razor, she rinsed it and set it on the counter. “How’s he doin’?”

The Doctor examined the monitors connected to Jayne’s vitals. “Better. The internal injuries appear to be mending, but I’m a little concerned about his head.” He paused. He’d always rather humourously suspected that the mercenary had had one too many blows to the cranium in the past to explain his stupidity. Seeing the results of it now, it didn’t seem very funny at all. “He’s going to have a serious headache when he’s finally up and moving.”

Kaylee nodded, but said nothing. “Simon.” She forced the man to look at her. “I just wanted t’thank you...for doin’ this. I know Jayne ain’t the friendliest a folk-”

“It’s fine,” he jumped in. “I mean...no one deserves this. Not anyone.”

Kaylee saw the sincerity in the Doctor’s face. “You’re a very good man, Simon Tam.” She smiled again.

“But not good enough.” He turned his back and pretended to read his notes once again. Kaylee moved to turn him around, but held back. She’d hurt him, she knew that, and the only thing that would make it better was time. So she would give him all he needed.

Later Scrolling through the eligibility list, Inara tapped four potential clients. She listened to the arrogant ramblings of a baron, the awkward stuttering of a teenage son of a diplomat and the smooth tones of two entrepreneurs. Backchecking with the guild registry, she chose the slightly older businessman and set a meeting time.

She began pulling the tapestry over the monitor when a knock sounded on her shuttle door. “Ching jin.”

“Inara, do you have some time?” Zoe hesitantly stepped into the shuttle.

The Companion gave the other woman the warmest smile she could muster. “Of course. Please, join me in some tea.”

Striding into the shuttle, Zoe was impressed with the decorations. Being a companion seemed to pay very well, even out in the rim. The expensive textiles and decorations impressed upon Zoe just how different the two women were. While the former soldier opted for spartan, Inara chose abundance. Zoe could make do in a foxhole, while the companion likely spent days arranging her candles to be just so.

In all, though, Zoe had found respect for Inara. It hadn’t been easy for the woman to leave Sihnon for the wilds of the black and the slightly less-than-legal manoeuverings of a ship never knowing where its next port of call would be. She had managed to survive for close to a year, but then the time came when Inara felt the call to return to her own.

Strange that Zoe never did; she had no interest in joining any of the small revolutionary armies that cropped up from time to time to cause the Alliance a bit of grief. She had found the battles with Mal at her side for something worth more than the Independents’ cause: family.

“Please, sit.” Inara offered the first mate a porcelain dish filled with chocolates. “These are especially decadent.”

Zoe spied the sweets then quickly grabbed the top one. She examined it completely, hesitant and expecting to find a hidden danger. Inara set the dish on the table and sat herself. Proving to Zoe that the treat was indeed safe, she sank her teeth into a chocolate and relished the taste. It was home.

The fighter woman saw the Companion not fall into a poisonous convulsion and deemed the treat safe. With a quick bite, she downed it, barely able to register the difference between it and a protein ration.

“What can I do for you, Zoe?” The question was genuine and an attempt to put Zoe at ease. Inara could nearly feel the tension in the other woman, so she tapped into her companion training.

“Not leave,” Zoe answered simply.

The Companion’s straight back slouched slightly as she understood the first mate’s meaning. “This is something that’s already been decided.” Her voice was soft and non-threatening. “Staying is...difficult.”

Zoe thought on the words. This woman didn’t know difficult. How could she, too afraid to risk her heart being broken. Fear kept her from telling Mal what he needed to hear to keep him from breaking. Fear wasn’t difficult. No, what was difficult was letting someone in and become so much a part of you that to lose him would be no less than losing yourself.

“This ain’t about you, Inara.” She held the Companion’s eyes, letting the sentence finish, unspoken.

Inara resumed her Companion demeanour. “I’m needed elsewhere. Others depend on me.”

“That’s a lie.”

Inara blinked at the boldness of the statement.

“I never thought of you as a weak woman,” Zoe continued. “You stayed on this boat through some tough times. Put up with our border planet manners and behaviours.” Her jaw twitched and her voice became quiet. “Faced Reavers.” She let the memory pass. “So don’t be telling me that it’s too difficult now.”

Hearing the words from Zoe was unexpected to the Companion. The first mate had apparently been watching and absorbing more than she let on. Inara couldn’t hide.

“There’s no longer a place for me here,” she replied, knowing the words sounded weak.

Zoe sighed deeply. She hadn’t been exactly sure why she had come to the shuttle now at this time. Some overwhelming need in her compelled Zoe to visit the woman and speak her peace. What resulted from that was unknown, but was upon further thought, not unexpected. “Mal would come to this shuttle after you had moved on. Stayed for hours. Don’t think he did much other than ponder.” She looked past the Companion to the decorations and tapestries then lowered her eyes. Looking back up, she continued. “He lost something and I had to keep wondering what he lost. When you came back, I knew.”

Inara looked away, not wanting to hear. She didn’t want to be blamed for the Captain’s action or inaction. She refused to feel guilty for leaving Serenity when he had never asked her to stay.

“He found hope. That’s your place here.” Zoe stood. “Guess that’s all I had to say.” She exited the shuttle and felt her heart pounding. How much of that had been about herself now that Wash was gone?

“Husband, what are you doing?” Zoe stood next to Wash who was leaning an ear against the shuttle door.

“Shh! I’m listening.”

There was momentary silence until Zoe broke with “I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.”

She stepped away and chuckled. “You’re beginning to sound like River.”

Wash whipped his head around. “You really think so? Well and truly?” He grinned. “Now I can stroke item 52 off my life’s to do list: be a ninety pound girl.”

“If you’re a ninety pound girl, then that makes me a very terrible woman.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “How terrible?” He stood very close to his wife.

“Very.” She threaded her fingers behind his flight vest.

“Perhaps you should demonstrate, just so we’re clear on the level of terrible.”

Zoe smiled and laughed a little menacingly. “You sure you can handle it?”

He gripped her posterior. “Oh, I think I’m ninety pound girl enough.”

Before... Simon examined the stitches near Jayne’s belly and the weaves across Jayne’s chest while the big man gritted his teeth. The pulling of surgical tape was a little more than painful.

“You’re looking good,” the Doctor announced, “considering everything.” He set his pad across Jayne’s legs and stared hard at the man. “But you can’t be going against my orders. If I tell you to stay in bed, then stay in bed. Otherwise, you’ll be back here.”

Jayne nodded, feeling the fool for winding up back in the medlab after his reckless attempt to go for a walk. The nausea was calming and his vision was better, if lacking depth.

“How are you coping?” Simon interrupted his thoughts.

“Copin’?” Jayne’s brow creased.

“Yes, with what happened to you.” He waited for an answer that didn’t seem to be coming. “You do remember?”

Jayne thought hard on what the Doc was askin’ him. He recollected a bar fight back on Harvest and thinkin’ that it oughta be an easy win ‘gainst only three. The memories became a whole lot foggier after that. ‘Course, he wished th’reason for bein’ in th’bar were like that. “Can’t rightly say.”

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. “Can’t or won’t?”

The mercenary’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “What is it yer aimin’ at, Doc? You think I’m fakin’ all this?” His voice was still haggard and raspy.

Simon relaxed his stance. “No, of course not. It’s just that with all the trauma you’re body’s been through, I only wanted to make sure that you were able to manage it mentally.”

Jayne huffed with a sly grin. “Most folks figure I ain’t got much mentally in th’first place. You included.”

The Doctor brushed a quick hand through his hair, feeling caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I don’t, Simon.”

Simon jerked his head at the call of his name.

“Don’t remember anythin’, not nothin’ that’d make sense anyway.” Whispers of machines and repairs floated through his consciousness and images of places he’d never been to. He felt a warmth in those visions that he couldn’t explain.

“But I know I gotta thank ya fer what ya done. Helpin’ me an’ all.” He felt a flash of pain in his side and held his breath before releasing it in a puff. Simon went for a smoother, but Jayne waved him off. “Ain’t much good t’no one if’n I’m doped up.” He tried to smile, but grimaced instead. “Course maybe now’s a good a time as any t’sleep.”

Simon held the medical gun at Jayne’s good shoulder. He injected the sedative and watched the big man loosen under its effects. Jayne had thanked Simon, twice now, for fixing him. The man-ape seemed to be becoming more a man.

But answers needed to be had and Mal was the only one who seemed to own them.

Later... The shock of Mal’s story weighed heavy in the air. Simon did little other than work his mouth to speak, then stop. Inara looked away and said a small prayer. Zoe remained expressionless, knowing already the information Mal had just relayed. Kaylee looked to each person hoping for more clarity. River kept her vigil at the helm.

“But why Jayne?” Kaylee asked.

Mal dug his hands into his pockets. “‘Cause he was alone, most like. Easy enough t’find probably helped.”

“So he goes off t’help his ma and gets nabbed for doin’ somethin’ right?” Kaylee shook her head, disbelieving. “Don’t make no sense.”

“Men like the one who took him generally don’t make sense,” Zoe piped in. She set her hand and arm on the table. “Who can say why they do what they do.”

“That’s right, Kaylee,” Mal added. “Don’t be frettin’ yerself on this. He’s done and gone.”

“But he ain’t,” she insisted. “Way you say it, there’ll be others out there just waitin’ t’jump at any chance. We ain’t safe no more.” She felt her hands begin to shake. Sounds of Early repeated in her head.

“That’s not so,” Mal soothed, now standing next to her chair. He laid a tentative hand on her shoulder. “Long as we stick t’gether, can’t be hurt.” He smiled down at her, but knew she didn’t believe his words.

“If he could take Jayne, he could take any of us.” The mechanic looked down the table to Inara, silently asking for comfort.

“Well, they did have some help,” Simon spoke. “I found traces of a powerful narcotic used to knock out motor functions. He was likely drugged.”

“Which means that Jayne was too tough for those men to pinch him fair and square,” Zoe added, glaring at the Doctor. Simon failed to understand that his attempt at reassuring Kaylee would only produce the opposite effect - if drugging Jayne was possible then anyone could be drugged.

“Really?” Kaylee was finding a margin of solace in Zoe’s words.

“Sure as I’m standin’ here,” Mal answered. “Believe me, between Zoe, River and myself, there’s nobody on this boat gonna have anythin’ bad happen to ‘em. Dong ma?”

“You are stronger than you think,” Inara added. She looked across the table to Zoe; understanding about their previous conversation passed between them.

“What do you plan to do, Captain?” Simon asked in an effort to get back onto the main topic.

“Keep flyin’. Same as always.” He looked to Inara. “Should be back to th’training house late tomorrow night.”

Inara shifted under the stare, but made no response.

“As for th’rest a ya,” Mal scanned his diminishing crew, “we keep a bigger eye out an’ don’t go anywhere alone. Safety in numbers.” He now looked to his mechanic and smiled lightly. He then left the galley for his bunk. Kaylee ran to catch up.

“Cap’n?”

He stopped before planting his boot on the first rung. “Somethin’ th’matter?”

The mechanic was in a rush and now couldn’t find the words she wanted to say. “It’s just.” She swallowed hard. “That man, who took Jayne, I don’t want that t’happen t’me.”

“It won’t. Promised your folks I’d take care a ya and I ain’t about t’stop.”

“But I gotta take care a myself. Do you think...think you could-”

“Now hold on there.” He rubbed her arms gently. “Don’t much care for the direction this train a thought’s going.” He stopped and looked hard at her. “I know yer a big girl, Kaylee, and I know what you did when th’Reavers was callin’. But I don’t especially like the notion of you with a gun and shootin’ real people, bad men or not.”

“But, Cap’n-”

His look stopped her and he breathed deeply. “No, Kaylee. I ain’t gonna teach ya how t’kill. That’s a slope more than loads slippery.” He thought on his first kill, still seein’ the face of the man who was barely more than a boy. Knew then he’d lost a bit of himself he weren’t ever able to get back.

“Fine, but that’s not what I’m askin’,” Kaylee answered. “Can ya drop me off at the Training House with Inara?”

To be continued...