Ursa Major, Ursa Minor
folder
1 through F › Firefly
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
34
Views:
8,782
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
1 through F › Firefly
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
34
Views:
8,782
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Firefly, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Pickin'
TITLE: Ursa Major, Ursa Minor
GENRE: Tragedy/Romance/Action
RATING: M
PAIRING: Jayne/River
SPOILERS: A week after BDM.
Chapter One:
“What was that?”
River tilted her head to the left and listened. “Port paneling just disconnected from the hull. Nothing dangerous.”
Mal glanced across at the young woman piloting Serenity. “Really?”
“Hm.”
“Nothing dangerous?”
“Hm,” River repeated.
Mal sighed and stood from the pilot seat. “Huh,” he responded. River grinned at their exchange and absently checked the rear sensors to see if they were being followed. Mal rested his hands on her shoulders and looked over the top of her head to see what she was looking at.
“Alliance keeping their word, for once?”
“It seems that way,” said River. “No one is following us.”
“Good,” Mal gave one of her shoulders a light, fatherly squeeze and he turned swiftly on his heel. “Let me know if anything does show up.”
River, her eyes still trained on the black expanse of space in front of her, nodded in the affirmative. “Yes sir,” she acknowledged.
Mal left the bridge. River listened to his thundering boot steps and noted how they led toward the portside shuttle that (for the time being) still served as Inara’s bunk. She smiled winsomely out at the stars.
*
They were heading for Persephone a week later. Badger had waved them with a job opportunity but was unreasonably reticent when it came to the details of the actual work they’d be doing for him. Unreasonably so because the cockney git could barely keep his trap closed normally.
And he’d invited them to tea.
Jayne had perked up at that—Badger may have been a fie fie de piyan but he did have real sugar. And cake. And wood alcohol. Jayne was feeling that powerful need to get completely drunk off his ass. Maybe visit his favorite brothel. After all the sexin’ that was going on since they left the empty moon… It was hard to hide that sort of thing on such a small ship as a Firefly.
Especially from a mercenary—a man who had trained himself to hear, see, and smell everything.
Jayne wasn’t just feelin’ the urge to get soused. He’d been hard up for weeks now—lifting weights, performing his own form of physical therapy to build his strength back up to his injured shoulder, and generally occupying himself with busy work. His bunk was spotless, his guns were gleaming, and he was more in shape than he’d ever been.
If everyone would just stop gorram sexin’ all the time!
Jayne forced his chair back away from the dining table with an ugly-sounding scrape against the deck plating. He ground his teeth together.
“Problem?”
Blue eyes shot up from the hole they were boring into the stained wood and met River’s wide gaze.
“What?” he growled.
River slid bare-footed through the room and eyed the knives he was sharpening. “We’ll be on Persephone in approximately one hour, twenty-two minutes, and fifteen seconds.”
“Good.”
“Twelve seconds.”
Jayne stopped grinding his teeth and shot her a meaningful look. River sat down across from his collection of weaponry and rested her chin on the knuckles of one hand. “Badger is not to be trusted.”
Jayne calmed some more. For some reason River was the only one on the whole boat who would take the time to tell him what was what. It soothed him in ways he didn’t want to dwell on. “Since when could he be trusted in the first place?” he asked her.
River picked at a scab on her arm. “This is true,” she admitted.
“Stop pickin’. You get that from the Reavers?”
She hummed an affirmative but kept on picking at her scab. Jayne reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“That won’t never heal if you keep on pickin’ at it.”
“’Won’t ever.’ Double negative creates a positive. Your grammar is deplorable.”
Jayne huffed a sigh—reminding River of a grizzly bear she once saw at the zoo on Osiris.
“I don’t know what ‘dee-ploor-able’ means, but I could care less whether I spoke right or not. ‘Long as I get my gorram point across. Which was: stop pickin’ at your scab.”
His hand is huge. Warm. River quit ‘pickin’’ but didn’t let Jayne move his hand.
“You have scabs as well.”
He let a grin color his face for a few seconds. River liked it—he hadn’t smiled in a while and the expression lightened his eyes pleasantly.
“But I don’t go an pick at ‘em, now do I?”
River twisted her hand in his grasp and let her fingers flit across his busted knuckles. She wiggled her fingernails in a threatening manner and Jayne’s eyes narrowed in that way of his.
“Hey now, River-girl…”
She skipped over the back of his hand and scratched the muscle of his forearm. She grinned impishly. “One hour, sixteen minutes, and forty-seven seconds.”
Scabs forgotten, Jayne allowed his still narrowed eyes to slide around the features of River’s face. “Still a bit o’ time. Got a plan formin’ in that head a your’n?”
River’s hand didn’t move, but her eyes strayed all about his face. “I might. But it will only work if I go along with you, Zoë, and the captain when Badger gives us the job.”
Her hand is so gorram small. Soft. “Gonna pretend yer from Dyton like ya did back when the cap’n was roped into that weird ass sword fight?”
River nodded. “Something like that,” she admitted.
“Only ‘somethin’’?”
The sound of heavy, captain-like steps caused the pair to separate.
“You gonna land us, lil’ albatross?” asked Mal.
River tipped her head and looked at him—the cascade of her curled hair sliding against her bare shoulders in a way that Jayne just could not ignore. “Yes, sir,” she said.
Mal nodded and made to leave the dining room but was stopped by Jayne.
“Hey, Mal, don’tcha think Crazy should come with us when we go to Badger’s?”
“Not crazy,” River pouted. “Not anymore.”
He waved her off and continued to stare at Mal. The captain pursed his lips and nodded. “Sounds good. We throw Badger off balance with a 90 pound girl and he won’t be so keen on pullin’ the wool over our eyes.”
River up and left the two men—her fingernails automatically scraping against the healing cuts on her arms. Without looking up from oiling his whetstone, Jayne made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat.
“River-girl…”
Her hands flicked up and she walked to the bridge like someone was holding a gun to her back. Mal gave Jayne a befuddled look.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
Jayne merely rasped Binky across the slick stone and shrugged.
TBC
Translations:
Fie fie de piyan: Baboon’s ass crack
GENRE: Tragedy/Romance/Action
RATING: M
PAIRING: Jayne/River
SPOILERS: A week after BDM.
Chapter One:
“What was that?”
River tilted her head to the left and listened. “Port paneling just disconnected from the hull. Nothing dangerous.”
Mal glanced across at the young woman piloting Serenity. “Really?”
“Hm.”
“Nothing dangerous?”
“Hm,” River repeated.
Mal sighed and stood from the pilot seat. “Huh,” he responded. River grinned at their exchange and absently checked the rear sensors to see if they were being followed. Mal rested his hands on her shoulders and looked over the top of her head to see what she was looking at.
“Alliance keeping their word, for once?”
“It seems that way,” said River. “No one is following us.”
“Good,” Mal gave one of her shoulders a light, fatherly squeeze and he turned swiftly on his heel. “Let me know if anything does show up.”
River, her eyes still trained on the black expanse of space in front of her, nodded in the affirmative. “Yes sir,” she acknowledged.
Mal left the bridge. River listened to his thundering boot steps and noted how they led toward the portside shuttle that (for the time being) still served as Inara’s bunk. She smiled winsomely out at the stars.
*
They were heading for Persephone a week later. Badger had waved them with a job opportunity but was unreasonably reticent when it came to the details of the actual work they’d be doing for him. Unreasonably so because the cockney git could barely keep his trap closed normally.
And he’d invited them to tea.
Jayne had perked up at that—Badger may have been a fie fie de piyan but he did have real sugar. And cake. And wood alcohol. Jayne was feeling that powerful need to get completely drunk off his ass. Maybe visit his favorite brothel. After all the sexin’ that was going on since they left the empty moon… It was hard to hide that sort of thing on such a small ship as a Firefly.
Especially from a mercenary—a man who had trained himself to hear, see, and smell everything.
Jayne wasn’t just feelin’ the urge to get soused. He’d been hard up for weeks now—lifting weights, performing his own form of physical therapy to build his strength back up to his injured shoulder, and generally occupying himself with busy work. His bunk was spotless, his guns were gleaming, and he was more in shape than he’d ever been.
If everyone would just stop gorram sexin’ all the time!
Jayne forced his chair back away from the dining table with an ugly-sounding scrape against the deck plating. He ground his teeth together.
“Problem?”
Blue eyes shot up from the hole they were boring into the stained wood and met River’s wide gaze.
“What?” he growled.
River slid bare-footed through the room and eyed the knives he was sharpening. “We’ll be on Persephone in approximately one hour, twenty-two minutes, and fifteen seconds.”
“Good.”
“Twelve seconds.”
Jayne stopped grinding his teeth and shot her a meaningful look. River sat down across from his collection of weaponry and rested her chin on the knuckles of one hand. “Badger is not to be trusted.”
Jayne calmed some more. For some reason River was the only one on the whole boat who would take the time to tell him what was what. It soothed him in ways he didn’t want to dwell on. “Since when could he be trusted in the first place?” he asked her.
River picked at a scab on her arm. “This is true,” she admitted.
“Stop pickin’. You get that from the Reavers?”
She hummed an affirmative but kept on picking at her scab. Jayne reached across the table and grabbed her hand.
“That won’t never heal if you keep on pickin’ at it.”
“’Won’t ever.’ Double negative creates a positive. Your grammar is deplorable.”
Jayne huffed a sigh—reminding River of a grizzly bear she once saw at the zoo on Osiris.
“I don’t know what ‘dee-ploor-able’ means, but I could care less whether I spoke right or not. ‘Long as I get my gorram point across. Which was: stop pickin’ at your scab.”
His hand is huge. Warm. River quit ‘pickin’’ but didn’t let Jayne move his hand.
“You have scabs as well.”
He let a grin color his face for a few seconds. River liked it—he hadn’t smiled in a while and the expression lightened his eyes pleasantly.
“But I don’t go an pick at ‘em, now do I?”
River twisted her hand in his grasp and let her fingers flit across his busted knuckles. She wiggled her fingernails in a threatening manner and Jayne’s eyes narrowed in that way of his.
“Hey now, River-girl…”
She skipped over the back of his hand and scratched the muscle of his forearm. She grinned impishly. “One hour, sixteen minutes, and forty-seven seconds.”
Scabs forgotten, Jayne allowed his still narrowed eyes to slide around the features of River’s face. “Still a bit o’ time. Got a plan formin’ in that head a your’n?”
River’s hand didn’t move, but her eyes strayed all about his face. “I might. But it will only work if I go along with you, Zoë, and the captain when Badger gives us the job.”
Her hand is so gorram small. Soft. “Gonna pretend yer from Dyton like ya did back when the cap’n was roped into that weird ass sword fight?”
River nodded. “Something like that,” she admitted.
“Only ‘somethin’’?”
The sound of heavy, captain-like steps caused the pair to separate.
“You gonna land us, lil’ albatross?” asked Mal.
River tipped her head and looked at him—the cascade of her curled hair sliding against her bare shoulders in a way that Jayne just could not ignore. “Yes, sir,” she said.
Mal nodded and made to leave the dining room but was stopped by Jayne.
“Hey, Mal, don’tcha think Crazy should come with us when we go to Badger’s?”
“Not crazy,” River pouted. “Not anymore.”
He waved her off and continued to stare at Mal. The captain pursed his lips and nodded. “Sounds good. We throw Badger off balance with a 90 pound girl and he won’t be so keen on pullin’ the wool over our eyes.”
River up and left the two men—her fingernails automatically scraping against the healing cuts on her arms. Without looking up from oiling his whetstone, Jayne made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat.
“River-girl…”
Her hands flicked up and she walked to the bridge like someone was holding a gun to her back. Mal gave Jayne a befuddled look.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
Jayne merely rasped Binky across the slick stone and shrugged.
TBC
Translations:
Fie fie de piyan: Baboon’s ass crack