my throat hurts, but FIC!

I think I may have to take Whedonesque off my flist, it's ruining my perspective, and my calm, very, very badly. However, all that blah aside. Here is some Firefly fic. Well actually it's post-Serenity fic. So that means SPOILERS don't read unless you want to be spoiled, or have obviously, already seen the movie. There's been a whole bucketload of post-serenity fic, and this one be mine. UNBETAED, sorry.

Jayne-centric, multiple pairings. PG-13-ish, 2686 words.



They all fall down.



Jayne has seen a lot of dead people. People killed around him. People he killed himself. Reavers killing; taking serious amounts of pleasure in it. He's seen corpses mutilated, going bad in the sun. He's seen ones just look like they're asleep, like you'd never know if they weren't not breathing. There's not so much to say about it all, far as he's concerned. When someone is dead it's all over. They're dead.

If anything unnerves him about dead people it's the effect its got on the others around them. Them's left behind to clean up. The more a person cares for a dead person the more they feel it. If its the right person, well, Jayne's seen the strongest men crumble into pitiful, shaking messes over dead people. Brothers that stopped talking. Mothers that stopped seeing right. As if they'd died abit themselves. Hell, even Mal got a funny look when he talked about the war. He's used to it, but there are couple dead people that make Jayne uncomfortable to think about. The boy from Canton is one of them, and he doesn't try to think much about the others.

Could be that's why Zoë surprises him. Ain't like she hasn't always been tough as hell, but he expected something from her. Something to change, maybe. He knows she must miss Wash something fierce, way they looked to each other, but she never says. Except for the way she'd gone berserk on them Reavers and nearly got herself killed that first day, there was nothing that seemed to change about her. No cryin' at the burial. Only thing seemed different was that she didn't laugh as much with everyone anymore, seemed harder about everything, like she'd grown another skin.

Jayne couldn't really tell if she was joking about shooting him anymore.

He respects her enough for it; he's always thought there's no use thinking on things you couldn't change. But he starts keeping an eye on her anyway. Just in case. He thought about telling her about what one of the whores he'd visited on Higgins Moon had said, about dead people being in the sky with stars, and all that. But it sounded kind of dumb, and figured Zoë would think as much too, so he just watches. He keeps it on the sly mostly, unless he's looking to rile someone, just looking for signs that she's getting out of sorts, so that he can be ready if she starts goes moon-brained, so he can pull her back in time.

He feels off at first, but Jayne finds that when he's watching Zoë, he notices a lot of other things he didn’t usually. How these days everyone on the ship moves carefully around each other like they're liable to break. How Inara always puts a sugared protein cake with the tea when she's making it for The Cap‘n. Mal always making a sarcastic comment about the tea taste like he can't stand to be around her when everyone, cept those two, knows that's the furthest thing from being the case.

He notices Kaylee and the Doc too, now that they're ruttin. Always smiling, and touching at each other, like they can't get enough of it. Like no one else is in the room. It took them so damn long to get their act together, he supposes they're just making up for it, but it seems a little rude to Jayne to be pushing it around in front of everyone.

He notices the way River always seems to appear out of nowhere, to sit with him, when Kaylee and Simon are at it. Sometimes she just perches quietly and watches while he cleans Vera or Betsy. Other times she brings him all manner of different sized steel bolts that he has no idea where she got them from, but he sure as hell hopes they aren't the ones supposed to be holding the ship together. Jayne doesn't mind her company so much these days now that she isn't gibbering and squawking all the time. In fact, she barely says anything and that's a relief when all anyone else seems to be able to say to each other these days is about how are things, or where their next job might be, but no one really knows or cares.

Jayne puts the steel bolts in his pocket, and gives her a frown, but doesn't make fun of her for it. He thinks about River sometimes, the same way he thinks about Zoë. That they ain't female like other womenfolk. That they are strong in ways that ain't typical. He ain't stupid. He saw the way River took on them Reavers all by herself. Not fifteen full grown men could have done what she did for Doc --for all of them, come to it. He knows that they'd all probably be dead if she hadn't done what she did. He's thankful of that, but wary of telling her as much. The way her brain works, he figures she probably knows.

He's just starting to relax about looking out for Zoë when she turns up at his bunk one night. He looks up sleepily and hopes there ain't going to be tears. He's never been real good with comforting.

"Take your clothes off."

"The what now?" Jayne sits up, blanket pooling in his lap.

She doesn't even twitch. "I said, take your clothes off."

He'd heard what she'd said. He'd hardly been repulsed neither. But he wasn't going to make that kind of mistake with someone who could hurt him. He stands up, in his pajamas, and moves toward her, sniffing.

"You been drinking," he states, cupping her elbow and directing her towards the door. "Go and sleep it off."

She shakes her head, and slaps his arm away.

"Jayne, if you don't take your clothes off I'm going to shoot you."

He shrugs, and doesn't need to be told again. He steps out of his pants

"Better?" he growls.

Zoë undoes her belt, and shoves him hard, so that he falls back onto the bed.

"Much." she growls right back.

She leaves straight after they are done, without saying more than a word. But she comes back every night that week, and he lets her, never being one to knock back that kind of thing. It ain't the best sex Jayne's ever had, not the prettiest, but it sure as hell is the roughest, and that's including some of the mudder boys he's had. By midweek he's sporting bruises and bite marks so bad he can't sit without flinching, and the Doc shoots him a funny look over his mashed up protein. On the Sunday he's got a black eye, and the only person not giving him funny looks over the dinner table is Zoë. River gives him another handful of steel bolts "for posterity", and he has no idea what she's talking about but he's figured enough is enough, and he'd better put a stop to it before things got out of hand.

He locks the door to his room that night. Hell, he knows it's gutless, but he figures it's the only way to finish things without some sort of scene, or without Zoë killin him.

It's late when he gives up trying to sleep, and makes to Zoë's bunk to try and explain himself somehow get it out of his head. It's not that he doesn't think she's up to scratch or nothing, she's tasty as anyone he's ever seen, but he feels rotten in his gut about it.

She's not in her bunk, and after about minute he heads up to the bridge. The glow from the console means he can see her face. She ain't crying or nothing, but she's got one of those damn dinosaurs clutched in her hand, just staring out at the black. He wonders what she's thinking; whether or not she thinks Wash is about, out there. He forgets what he was going to say, but it turns out it don't matter anyway because she faces him.

"It's okay Jayne, I'm done sleeping with you."

"It ain't that I didn't like--"

"Jayne." Zoë throws him an exasperated look. "Just go to sleep."

Jayne nods, relieved and turns to come face to face with Mal. He doesn't even have to ask how much of the conversation he's heard, the expression on his face is a dead giveaway. It's a look he's only seen directed at him one other time in his lifetime. Mal's eyes are hard and black, and Jayne half braces himself for the punch, but it doesn't come.

"Get out of my sight."

Zoë stands "Sir--"

"--I'll speak to you in a just--," Mal snaps, pointing her back "--Jayne, don't make me say it twice."

Jayne doesn't, and strides out. He's been on this ship long enough to know it ain't worth trying to reason with Mal when he's like this. Zoë will tell him how it was anyhow, and then they'd all sleep on it and things would get back to normal in no time. He remembers now why he doesn't do mouth kissing; it's too much drama. When people get sensitive they get gorram dumb. Mal wasn't the worst captain he's ever had, but he's always so damn emotional about his crew.

It'll be okay in the morning, Jayne thinks.

Turns out, it ain't okay. Mal's there when he wakes up.

"Pack your things up, you're getting off at Ezra."

Jayne sits upright, feeling like he'd just got himself electrocuted.

"Too zai zi, Mal!"

Mal shakes his head, silencing him. "Consider it a favour we're stopping to let you out"

Jayne opens and shuts his mouth a few times, all the confusion and anger rising up in his throat and stopping the words. This ain't right. It weren't his fault. And yet, here he was being blamed again, like usual. Mal turns to leave, and he grabs his shoulder, pulling him back and spinning him around angrily.

"Gorramit Mal," Jayne yells, "She wanted it, I didn't do nothing!"

"Exactly." Mal's face goes dark hard again. "All you had to say was no, you took advantage of her---"

"I took advantage?! Who is it s'got the black eye?!" Jayne knows he's hollering, knows the whole damn ship must be able to hear them, but he doesn't care anymore. "What is it? You can't stand the thought she came to me? You think Inara will be next?"

"I don't trust you with my crew anymore Jayne," Mal says, colder and calmer than Jayne's seen him in a long time. "It's time for you to leave."

Jayne can think of plenty of reasons why it ain't time for him to leave, but it's clear as day the Captain's made up his mind, so when Mal is up the ladder he just slams the door as loud as he can and gets to packing, without even heading up for breakfast.

He stuffs his clothes in a bag. This will be good in the long run. He'll just find a new job, a new ship, and a new crew, hopefully one with a captain who ain’t so tetchy and pigheaded about things, without fugitives and crazies and love struck teenagers. It ain't worth getting ate up about, Jayne thinks, putting Betsy into her case. It's not as though he's started caring about any of them. It's a wonder he didn't think of leaving sooner.

Dinner is real quiet that night, and no one even mentions how good the spices are in the soup Inara makes. Jayne makes a point of not looking at anyone direct. It's not because he's afraid, but he'll be damned if he's going to put up with being judged the last night he's here. Kaylee fawns all over him, asking him if he needs help, patting him on the shoulder over and over, and its only a little bit irritating. Jayne is just glad Kaylee ain't too mad at him, even if she is too sentimental about it. Everyone else just slurps their soup loudly. Jayne sneaks a look at Zoë, but she's looking at her bowl.

The sun is rising when they land on Ezra, and Jayne has got most of his stuff in the pack on his back. Everyone is still asleep when Mal opens the airlock so he can get out, but Jayne doesn't mind, he's glad there's nothing to draw it out, make it uncomfortable for everyone. Mal just nods shortly at him, and walks away. Jayne thinks he should just head into town, look for work straight away, so he don't get lazy. It shouldn't be too hard. Everyone's always looking for Mercs these days, the closer in the Reavers get.

He starts, and spins 'round when a hand touches his arm. It's the space cadet. Jayne almost smirks.

"Hey girl, come to make sure I get gone?"

"No," River replies, and she presses another steel bolt into his hand, her fingers icy cold.

He shakes his head, and does smirk a little this time, dropping the bolt into his pocket. It's nice to get given something, even if it is stupid.

"Well, bye." He says, walking away fast, pockets jingling with every step.

The town is small, but seems personable, and he thinks he might do okay here. He wanders for abit and then goes about finding some refreshment, and maybe some entertainment. It's his fourth ale in the dingy pub just off main street, and he's being given the eye by a shapely brunette when the Doc finds him.

"You have to come back," he says, breathless and grinning like he just bagged himself another pretty mechanic.

"Like hell I do," Jayne replies slamming his empty glass on the wet counter, and then gestures to the skinny bartender. "Another one."

Simon frowns, and then knocks the glass away. "You do, we're staying here a few more days. And the Captain needs you back to look after the ship while he and Zoë go into town look for supplies." Doc's beaming at him, rather unsettlingly. "He seems to have changed his mind about you leaving, again. I tried to talk him out of it of course, but he said something about the verse being short of big, dumb mercenaries"

Jayne scowls, and shoves Simon. He thinks on it for abit, and then picks up his bag, and helps the Doc up and starts to head back to the ship. It's not like he has had any better offers today anyway or anything, and Inara makes decent soup, so it's not like he's coming back just because they asked nice-like.

He's halfway back to the ship when he asks Simon what supplies it was that was so important they had to stay here for them.

"Oh, it's really odd," Simon says, frowning "The engine wouldn't start, and it turned out that most of the screws and bolts holding it together are missing, just up and vanished or worn off or something like that. Kaylee said it was quite a miracle we didn't fall straight out of the sky."

Halfway through a mouthful of water Jayne chokes.

Mal and he never speak on it, and Jayne doesn't really know why he changed his mind, or if things would have turned out different if the engine hadn't failed, but he doesn't waste too much time thinking about it. He's stopped watching Zoë and everyone out of the corner of his eye, thinking maybe he doesn't need to, and hasn't ever really needed to.

He fingers the steel bolts in his pocket. River grins, big-eyed and demented at him, across the room, like she knows something about him he doesn't. It confounds him sometimes, how she's so young and not a girl at all, and he thinks if she did it deliberate, that he's thankful of that, but wary of telling her as much. The way her brain works, he figures she probably already knows.

Maybe he'll give her Betsy anyway.

"Simon will have a coronary."

Everyone stares at her, and then at Jayne when he starts to laugh.