Still Flying

Alone and abandoned in the black, a dead ship rotated in silence through
the vacuum of space that comprised the outer rim of the known planets. Still and
silent, only the last few flickering lights powered by the emergency reserve
moved within its almost airless confines. Engines pulsed, flaring brightly in
the black, and Serenity moved a little closer, allowing her crew a better view
of the ship that was all but space-trash floating through time.

“It's still got minimal life-support left on it, Cap’n, and probably fuel
still in its tanks.” Wash, the red-haired pilot spoke over his shoulder, never
taking his hands from the keel, nor his sharp blue eyes from the remains of a
similar craft, an older version of the beloved Firefly he kept in the air. Not
normally one to volunteer for piracy, the woman standing straight legged with
hands on the holsters on her hips behind him, certainly was. And he loved her
all the more for it. Wetting her lips as she roved her eyes over the dead craft
before them, Zoë turned to glance at the Captain standing in the entrance with
both hands lightly braced on the jamb.

“And whatever gore and trash the Reavers didn’t feel like haulin’ with
‘em, too, I suppose.” The Captain commented, rather lightly, and dropped his
hands from the doorway to tuck them in his front pockets as he strolled forward
a few paces, his gaze shifting from the craft, to his first mate, Zoë. She met
his gaze evenly, her expression guarded.

“Reavers, Cap’n? This far into Alliance territory? It don’t look like
their work to me. There’s little damage to the craft, and no bodies in clear
sight. Either they’re getting tired of doin’ what they do, or this is someone
else’s work.”

Captain Malcolm Reynolds nodded thoughtfully, taking in the words of one
he trusted with his life as he brought one hand to his jaw to give it an idle
rub while he considered. With a shrug of one shoulder, he dropped his hand and
nodded again.

“Alright, let’s go see what piratin’ we can get done. Wash, you keep an
eye on the surrounds. I don’t want no trap being sprung while we’re over their
in our fancy suits. Zoë, get Jayne. Us three’ve got a date seeing what we can
salvage.”

Zoë pursed her lips as she unhooked her thumbs from her belt, and ran a
hand across her husband’s shoulder as he manned Serenity into a better position,
and the Captain strode from the room. She sighed, and shook her head a bit,
looking over Wash’s shoulder at the dead Firefly.

“I said it’s not Reavers, but not that goin’ over there’d be a good idea.
I don’t like this.”

Wash clicked his tongue, but didn’t look up at her as she, too, turned and
left the bridge. His bride was a warrioress, a valkyrie, and he could only
protect her by flyin’ Serenity the way she wanted to be flown, the way he knew
how to fly her. Down the corridor, in the galley, Jayne was shoveling paste
thick spoonfuls of beans into his mouth, the muscled bulk of the mercenary
sprawled in a chair all but groaning under his weight. Combat boots stretched
out, one under the table, the other leg extended out into the walkway. He lifted
dark blue eyes in a hard little glance to Zoë when she stepped up before him,
and brought one hand up to swipe at the carefully trimmed goatee around his
mouth.

“We fixin’ to do some rummagin’?”

Zoë merely nodded, crossing her arms as she looked down at him.
“Cap’n comin’ too?”

Once again, Zoë only nodded in response, her chocolate gaze in careful
scrutiny on the man.

“Well then, I best be getting myself dressed up, quick like, huh?”

Still, silence. Jayne began to get a little squirmy under that dark,
unwavering gaze. Zoë was okay as far as first mates went, and downright mean in
a fight, so she had his respect in that aspect. But sometimes she was so gorram
quiet, it was unnerving. Finally, he stood up and pushed the bowl and bean-caked
spoon roughly away from him, barking,

“Gorramit, what?!”

Zoë’s full lips twitched in their set expression, and mirth moved through
her eyes, before she walked past him, and said evenly,

“You’ve got beans on your shirt.”



Suited up and ready to go, Serenity’s captain, first mate, and muscle
stood in the airlock, waiting both for Wash to angle them closer to the other
ship, and for Kaylee to seal the airlock and open the outer hatch for them.
Jayne held his lightest gun in one hand, and a vast length of rope draped over
the opposite shoulder. The deal was to search the ship, and ransack anything of
value. Smaller items would be sacked, as well as clothing and foodstuffs that
could be sold, and anything larger would be tied together and kicked out into
open space for Serenity to scoop into her bay. All three double checked their
helmets, and Mal gave Kaylee the thumbs up through the air-lock door. With a
great hiss, they depressurized, and lifted from the floor. Using their packs,
they maneuvered to the almost identical air-lock of the other ship, and were
inside easier than they’d all anticipated.

Mal checked the levels of the ship’s interior, and found the life support
straining to maintain livability. Had any of the ship’s crew survived what had
happened to them, there was a remote possibility they could still be alive. He
advised the other two on this, and sent them off, feeling little fear that any
could still be alive. Corpses were decomposing in the cargo bay, seen as soon as
they moved from the airlock. All three went different directions - Mal to the
engine room and galley, Zoë to the Medilab, cockpit and crew bunks, and Jayne
stayed in the bay to muscle the bigger cargo together, and after, to search the
passenger quarters.

The big man wrinkled his nose behind the convex shield on his helmet,
kicking a decomposing corpse from his way. They’d been dead for weeks, maybe
even months, and he was mighty glad for his suit right now, for the way they
looked, they’d smell even worse. It was odd, for all three had noted no
distinguishing marks of death, no tell-tale sign of what had killed them. No
reaver calling cards - ie: flayed and mutilated and eaten. Jayne grunted,
putting his shoulder to a crate to shove the last bit closer to the airlock
doors so he could rope them up. Now, the hard part done, his favorite bit of
digging through people’s things could begin. With a maniacal little chuckle to
himself, he shouldered the strap of his gun, and tromped through to the
passenger quarters, to find them smaller and arranged a bit differently than
they were on Serenity, but there nonetheless.

He’d filled two sacks with fine clothing and jewelry from the first three
rooms, all three unfortunately had a corpse or two staring at him from the bed
while he did his dirty deed, and was halfway through the fourth room before he
noticed something rather odd. Pausing with a handful of goods stuffed into the
sack, he realized there was no body in this room, but it had once been
inhabited. Or maybe still was.

Foodstuff wrappers littered the floor at his feet, and a few on the bed.
At the foot of it, a curved patch had been swept clear. A frown formed on
Jayne’s features, as he carefully set the sack down, and brought his gun up,
readying himself before he hit the catch on the hidden compartment, expecting a
Reaver to come flying out.

Instead, he found himself looking into a pair of eyes as dark blue as his
own, but a face much gaunter and far dirtier, with ratty black hair in clumps
around it, stuffed under a woolen cap. The form huddled inside didn’t move a
muscle, and Jayne was thinking that it ... he ... was dead as well, until those
eyes shifted to meet his own, and a tear slid down one cheek. With a hoarse cry,
a boy fell out of the compartment, clad in layered clothing far too big for him,
and Jayne, with a surprised grunt, caught him. It only took him a moment to
gather himself back together and hit the comm. unit on his suit, to tell the
others. The boy, more a teen than child, clung to Jayne’s arm weakly, and when
Jayne made to stand him up, he discovered the boy unconscious. Another grunt,
this one annoyed, and Jayne kicked all three sacks out into the corridor, and
hefted the boy over his shoulder. He was lighter than any of those sacks
individually.


Dr. Simon Tam looked up from the thin form laid, sleeping, upon his
examination table in Serenity’s med-lab, to the Captain standing across from
him, and the rest of the crew gathered behind, in the doorway.

“Very malnourished and dehydrated. I’d gather the water had gone fairly
quickly, and although she had the Foodstuffs, she’s probably been drinking her
own urine.”

Mal nodded, looking the form over, then back up to Simon.

“So, are you saying she’ll recover?”

“Yes, I’m feeding her system right now, and she’ll probably be revived in
ten hours or so.”

Jayne coughed, and pushed his way past the others to give Simon a
bewildered look.

“Wait a minute! What are you saying, ‘she’? This is a boy, I tell ya!”

“Well, she may not be as ugly as you were at that age, Jayne, but this is
a young woman. I assure you, I do know where to look. Early to mid twenties, I’d
say. She was just so starved and half dead, I can’t blame her for not looking
like a bowl of cherries. She owes you her life, Jayne. I’ll make sure she knows
you thought her a boy when she wakes up, okay?” Simon replied, finishing with a
grin, as Jayne backed up with a horrified look on his face, shaking his head
before blundering out of the ward, muttering in Chinese. The others chuckled at
this, all except Kaylee and River, who had slipped forward while Jayne was
leaving to look down on the girl on the table. River observed with a calm sort
of fascination, but Kaylee looked truly pained, and brushed a sallow skinned
cheek with her knuckles, saying softly to the unconcious girl,

“Aw, I bet you’re even prettier than ‘Nara when you’re not all half dead,
like. Poor thing... what do you suppose happened, Cap’n?”

“I don’t rightly know, Kaylee. Guess we’ll just have to ask her herself
when she wakes up. C’mon now, everyone back to work. You as well, Doc. Make sure
and keep her isolated... even from her,” Mal said, gesturing to River, who was
sniffing a tangled lock of the girl’s dirty hair, “Let me know when she’s awake
and able to reason.” That said, the others were all ushered from the room, and
Simon stepped to the door to lock it, and shade the windows. While the body
slept, the least he could do was clean her up. Ever the professional surgeon, it
was all done with the precision and distance required of his trade, but even he
couldn’t help the frown that drew his brow. Upset, at the condition of this
girl, and wondering what deadly event had happened that she had survived. But
the captain was right, they’d find out, soon enough.


Ten hours had passed, and still she slept. Jayne had to finally concede
that she was, in fact, a girl... and now that the Doc had bathed her, and pumped
her body back with what it needed, she didn’t look so haggard, nor nearly as boy
like. The thin cheeks were a little fuller, and now that the grime was gone,
Jayne could see a fine smatter of freckles dusting across her nose and cheeks,
the only markings upon alabaster skin. Her hair fell in dark curls, ragged
still, and dry from malnourishment, but now he couldn’t deny that she was a
young woman. He almost felt foolish, wondering how he’d seen a boy when she fell
into his arms. After all, it wasn’t everyday women fell out of cupboards atop
him, or it could be attributed to the joyous high he’d been on at ransacking an
abandoned ship - with an abandoned girl.

Alone in the med-lab save for her sleeping form, while the others were in
the galley having dinner, Jayne watched her face contract slightly in her sleep,
watched her lips twitch. So focused he was on wondering if she was dreaming, or
going to talk in her sleep and spill stories of gruesome acts unknown, he didn’t
even notice that her dark lashes had parted and those same haunted blue eyes
were once more looking straight into his, until he was already gazing into them.
She didn’t speak for a long moment, her eyes on his, then restraining to just
his face, before moving past him as her head turned slightly, to look around the
med-lab fully... bringing her blue eyes back to him before she tried to speak.
The first attempt was a croak, but a few swallows, and she managed a cracked
whisper.

“W..where am I?”

He knew he should go and get the captain, but Jayne lingered, his
curiosity overcoming his desire not to get involved in anything he shouldn’t.

“Aboard the merchant ship Serenity. Found you off a boat full of dead
bodies. We saved you, I guess.”

He said bluntly, excersizing bedside manner at his best. Her raven brows
furrowed faintly as she blinked, slowly, and attempted to lift one of her hands
to her face, but gave up as she was too weak, “Not we ... you. You found me, I
remember that ... I thought you were Reavers again ... I hid from them ... the
last time ... they didn’t stay long ... not much they wanted onboard ...
everyone already dead ...” Another slow blink, but this time her eyes stayed
closed, and her face creased suddenly into sorrow, and as silent tears escaped
from under tightly closed lids to run down her cheeks, Jayne left her and took
the stairs at a run to alert Mal that she was awake.

Captain, first mate, and doctor all took attendance in questioning her,
and her story was told. A colonist traveling with all her kin, Revelle at first
declined to give her name at all, and then refused to claim a surname, saying
that her tale would be told easier without one, and that it was simply too
painful to remember. A fellow they’d picked up on their way to colonize a newly
terraformed planet had gone space-crazy, unwell in the black, and had envisioned
every member of the ship to be out to get him. He methodically poisoned each and
every one of them.

She, he had saved for a much more up close demise, for he imagined her to
be in love with him, and wanted to take her heart out as a token. Desperate
measures were taken when battling for your own life, and it ended with she
surviving the encounter, he had not. Unfortunately, she was left alone on a
ship she knew nothing about, surrounded by the poisoned bodies of her own loved
ones and friends. Unable to touch or move them, barely able to gather what she
needed to survive without looking at them, she’d lived for months in exactly the
manner Simon had described.

Thus began the debate on what to do with her. Zoe wanted her dropped off
in the nearest space-port, Jayne didn’t have much to say on the subject, and
Simon insisted on keeping her until she was well. Kaylee simply wanted to keep
her, and goaded Inara into a similar path. She herself begged to remain on
board, selling herself as having possessed certain skills as a cook. Seeing as
how she had nothing, and nowhere to go, Mal agreed to keep her on as a crew
member after she regained her health.

Every day after she’d been released from bedrest, in what she regarded as
her new life, she struggled to the galley three times a day to cook meals for
the crew. Jayne said not one word to her after their initial conversation, and,
in fact, avoided her as best he could, even though she was serving him his food.
He’d wait patiently, never looking at her, until she doled it out, then leave
with it just as quickly as he’d entered to sit down. As a few weeks passed, she
grew both stronger and healthier, and she overheard Kaylee mutter something to
Jayne as he hurried past her and out of the galley with his portion in his
hands.
“See, Jayne... I knew she’d be just as pretty as ‘Nara... why don’t you
ever talk to her? It was you that saved her life, after all. I know if it’d be
me, I’d want to talk to my hero...”

Kaylee’s voice trailed off as she followed after Jayne, and Simon cast a
quick glance up from where he sat at the table to see any affect on his newest
patient. If she heard, or cared, she made no sign, and simply smiled as she
ladled more soup into his bowl and engaged him in light conversation. Kaylee was
right, after all, for Revelle was just as pretty as Inara, and oddly enough,
shared some similar characteristics, with her soft, dark curls, the beginnings
of salacious curves still being filled back in and expressionful eyes and full
mouth, but where the Companion’s skin was muted honey, chocolate orbed and her
stature was demure, Revelle was peaches and cream, blue-eyed, and rather tall.

It was hard for Simon to tell if she’d always been so quiet and reserved,
or if her ordeal and being surrounded by strangers had made her so withdrawn...
but he often found her sitting with River when not working. Both would sit on
the cat-walks in silence for hours, and watch the crew moving about below. In
just about equal parts of the amount of time she spent with River, she spent the
other half by her lonesome, either curled in her bunk or the lounge, sometimes
in other quietly discreet places, with a scanner-pad, reading novels. Almost
every member noticed that the direction of Revelle’s dark eyes was always on
Jayne, whenever he was in sight. Only two saw the pink flush to her cheeks if he
glanced her direction.

The shifts had changed hours ago, shifting to graveyard where just one
person sat in the cockpit, awake, to monitor the ship, allowing the rest of the
crew to sleep. In her little bed in the passenger quarters, she snapped out of a
dead sleep in a cold sweat, panting from the nightmare she’d never want to
relive. Just because she’d hidden from the Reavers and escaped them, didn’t mean
she hadn’t seen and heard things no person should ever have to. As quietly as
she could, she wrapped herself in a robe and rose barefooted from her cot and up
the ladder into the corridor. Folding her arms around herself, she padded upon
the steel grating toward the baths on the upper level, her thoughts all the
while, focused on anything other than her nightmare.

As she stepped into the tiny little room and cranked on the hot water
those thoughts turned inevitably to Jayne. He’d almost spoken to her today,
surprised when they both rounded a corner at the same time and almost collided.
She’d squeaked and grabbed at his arm, he’d grunted and slid the other around
her waist to keep her from tripping... and for a moment they were chest to
chest, and she looked up into his face. His mouth opened, as if to say
something, but nothing came out... and as quickly as it’d happened, he pulled
away with a cough, and disappeared around the corner he’d come from, apparently
decided on an alternative course. She relived this over and over in her mind as
she lathered shampoo into her hair, and soaped along her skin, and while she
conditioned and rinsed, and smoothed lotion over her damp skin, and while she
toweled dry and studied herself before the foggy little mirror. And the more she
thought about it, the more she didn’t want to go back to her own cold little
cot. As she slipped her robe back on and stepped out of the bathroom into the
corridor, she didn’t realize her intention until her bare foot was already on
the rung to Jayne’s bunk. With a deep breath, she eased the door open, and
stepped down into the darkness.


All but silently, the door thumped closed behind her, and she’d
momentarily been afforded a glimpse of the room with the light from the
corridor, and had seen Jayne in a lump on his side in his bed. She trembled, her
heart hammering... before moving slowly across the bare floor. His room smelled
so tantalizing, something male and dark. A few feet away, she kicked something
with her toe, and it made a soft thump upon the floor. Her heart slammed twice
in her breast before a loud click of a hammer cocked and the air of something
passing inches before her nose followed. Sounding completely awake, when she’d
clearly heard him snoring just moments before, Jayne growled,

“Who is it, and what’dya want?”

Her stomach leapt to her mouth, and she tried to swallow it down as hard
as she could... for if she didn’t reply soon, she knew he’d probably shoot her.
With a throaty whisper, she replied, lifting her hand to brush the barrel of the
gun away from her face.

“Jayne... I’m cold...”

What she really wanted to say was that she wished to be held in his arms
and get some dreamless sleep while she knew she was safe, but it seemed too
thick, too tawdry on her tongue. He didn’t seem to notice, for the understanding
was immediate, and he asked for no explanation or clarification on who she was.
With a harsh sigh, he dropped the gun and lifted the blanket with a rustle,

“Gorramit, girl. Get in.”

She complied, tucking her slender frame into a perfect companion against
his warmth, both facing the same direction like spoons in a drawer, and without
any hesitation he draped an arm over her hip and pulled her closer, before
folding her tightly against his broad chest with his hand upon her belly. She
was joyful and terrified at once, struggling to keep her breathing even, while
her heart hammered in her throat, and she was acutely aware of how she wore
nothing under the silken robe, and how highly it rode on her thighs. The heat
from his bare chest pressed along her backside, and when she straightened her
bent legs slightly to touch them against his, she found her skin touching his,
and wondered if he was nude. The arm not laying comfortably over her hip he’d
shoved sidelong, below her head under the pillow, so that when she shifted her
own hand under, her fingertips brushed his knuckles. He caught them with his own
before she could withdraw, and held her hand in his rough palm in such a
strangely familiar gesture that it brought smile to her lips, in the dark. With
another sigh, less harsh than before, Jayne laid his head back down on the
pillow and buried his nose in her damp curls.

Surprised at herself when a curl of desire slid through her belly below
the wide, warm fingers splayed on her belly, it only served to make her
heartbeat quicken and set the blood to roar in her ears, so that at first she
didn’t realize what she was hearing. Her nerves and anticipation had been for
naught, for Jayne had simply fallen back to sleep, as if having her in his bed
was the most common thing in the world. She breathed a soft chuckle, sleep
already tugging at her lids to make them heavy, and she drifted to her dreams
with a smile upon her lips.

Twice thoughout the night, she awoke - when Jayne grunted and moved, both
times. She was unused to sharing a bed, and the sensation was new for her, but
that didn’t mean she held back in curling herself closely against him. The first
time she woke, he’d pulled his arm out from under her head and rolled over away
from her, so she turned as well to fit her body against his warm bulk, and
discovered when she slid her hand tentatively along his side that he was, in
fact, not nude after all, but wearing undershorts. She fell asleep with her palm
resting on his hip, and didn’t wake when he pulled her arm over his side and
tucked her small hand in his over his chest. The second time she roused, he’d
moved again, to lie on his back, and was nudging her to lift her head to he
could lay his arm under it again. She murmured sleepily and complied, to find
herself drawn half onto his chest and he curled his arms around her. Her hand
found its way to his stomach, and she was only vaguely aware of him collecting
it and drawing it up to his chest, where she slid her fingers through the fine,
silky hairs until she fell back asleep.

The next time she awoke, she was alone. One light was on in the corner of
the bunk, and the ship’s clock showed that it was an hour before she’d need to
get the breakfast rations ready. Jayne himself did not usually rise before this
time, so when she sat up, looking around bleary eyed for him, two things
occurred to her. The first being that Jayne may have regretted allowing her to
so comfortably share his bed, and the second- the belt of her robe had worked
loose thanks to her night of tossing about, and the knot that held it loosely
closed was not of her own doing. She stared at it dumbly for a moment, still
warm and muzzy headed amid the rumpled blankets of his bed that smelled cleanly
of man, until she started when footsteps tromped past the door to Jayne’s bunk.
Suddenly she felt both very foolish and embarrassed, and did not want to be
caught half naked in his room. Listening carefully before peeking out, she found
the corridor clear, and darted to her own room as quickly as she could, only
spied by River, who cast a curiously knowing gaze upon her form as it raced
past.

While he was doing the captain’s bidding and cleaning the mud from the
mule in the cargo bay, Jayne was mentally cursing and berating himself with each
swipe of the rag. The captain, Book, Zoë, and even Simon had been the true
reason he’d avoided the girl since bringing her on board. They all had informed
him that should he take advantage of her weakened and vulnerable state, he would
not only become persona non grata and likely out of a job, a warm seat in Book’s
hell would be reserved for him upon his death, which would be sooner rather than
later, by Zoe’s warning. So he’d stayed clear th’ hell away from the girl -
well, as far away as he could get when he had to see her three times a day if’n
he wanted food in his belly.

But Kaylee didn’t make it any easier on him, pesterin’ every chance she
got, and the girl herself had a beauty about her that could break any man’s
will, especially wanderin’ around out here in the black. And that was a gorram
shame, because under normal circumstances, she’d be the type of girl right up
his alley, as well. Didn’t talk as much as Kaylee about nonsense, wasn’t as
eerily watchful and omniscient as that crazy Tam girl, nor as brusque as Zoë.
But good gorram, she was all curvacious woman, tastier than dark eyed Inara -
and it made him flush to think he’d picked her for a lad. She seemed to have a
sensibility about her, but it still couldn’t hide the fact that he could feel
her eyes upon him at every given chance. Lord only knew what she had to be
thinking of him, with the way he had to treat her.

And Mal and Book bedamned, it had taken all the willpower in the world
when she’d crept to his bed last night. A man could only be so strong,
especially a man like him, who was rarely strong for anyone but himself. The
feel of her warm little body all cozied up against his, well, he’d had to turn
away for fear she’d feel somethin’ pokin her backside. An’ her soft little hands
touching his skin ... it took a powerful will. An’ truth be told, he’d been
surprised at himself when he shoved the gun in her face, but had known her voice
as soon as she said his name.

Jayne growled to himself, muttering angrily in Chinese as he continued on
with his task, intent on focusing on the job. But it was mighty hard, both
knowin’ breakfast would be up soon and hopin’ she’d awoken in time. His guts
grumbled with something close to guilt, at the thought of having to explain what
she’d been doin in his bed. Mal’d shoot him before giving him the chance to
swear he’d not touched her in any indecent way. Thoughts drifted once more, as a
man’s brain oft does, and the cleaning slowed a little as he relived the way
she’d looked, layin in his bed with that pretty dark hair all around her face,
blankets tangled up to her hips and her robe shucked up to her belly. He’d been
sorely tempted to take a little peek between the gap when he noticed the belt
undone, but somehow, for some reason, he’d tied it back together again and left
without another look. The whole damn crew should applaud him for the effort he’d
taken! He’d never actually tried so hard to mind an order before, especially one
involving a woman like her.

River danced past him, eyes closed as she whirled around, and Jayne looked
up from his contemplation to find his hands had stopped without his realizing.
The whole starboard side of the mule was waiting to be mud free before he could
taste his breakfast... and if he worked a little more eagerly than normal, who
would notice? From the cockpit, Wash did. He’d also watched the girl meander to
Jayne’s quarters across from he and Zoe’s own last night, and had also seen her
skate out just a lil’ bit ago. He decided not to tell the captain yet, as the
girl had gone of her own accord. Besides, Wash didn’t want to risk not getting
anymore of her fine coffee if he tattled.


All crew seated in the galley, Serenity on autopilot, Revelle served each
member a heaping plate of vittles, starting with Mal and working her way down
the table, River helping out by passing the coffee around. Same as always, Jayne
wouldn’t look at her, and as soon as she set the plate before him, he had a fork
already half-way to his mouth. Talk was commencing around the table about the
newest job, and the need to go planet side later that day, and only one who
would be looking for it would have noticed the light finger she drew along
Jayne’s neck, under his ear, as she turned to set Simon’s plate down. Jayne
coughed on his mouthful of food, and Kaylee started in on him about chewing his
food instead of mauling it.

“This job’ll need brains and beauty instead of muscle and ugly. Jayne,
since you’re the prettiest one here, I know you’d normally get to go, but I need
you to stay with the ship.” Mal interjected over the general laughter and
conversations, earning Jayne’s grunt. “Anyone else is welcome to disembark upon
reaching land. There’ll be a market and such. Revelle, I’d like you to make a
list up of what we need, and send it with Kaylee and Simon, if you don’t want to
go yourself.”

She looked up from where she was ladling out what was left of breakfast,
and her eyes touched briefly on Mal’s, with a slight nod. He knew her generic
feelings and nervousness around groups of people, and she was more than content
to hide away aboard ship in solitude, if only because she knew they’d be soon
coming back. That, and the thought of running into Reavers while unprotected
sent a shiver down her spine. Not eating with the crew, she left them to finish
their meal and went down into the storage and supplies room by her own, in the
tail of the ship to do an inventory of what they had, her writing faintly shaky
upon the paper as she thought of herself and Jayne alone aboard the ship.

Boot steps fell behind her, and she turned, half expecting Jayne, but was
surprised to see Mal again. She gave him a smile and the list, and made to step
past him, but he stopped her with a light hand on her arm.

“Wait, just a bit, Revelle.”

She froze, looking up into his kind face with a sort of scared animal look
she knew was there, and hated it, but couldn’t wipe away until he smiled gently,
and continued.

“Now, don’t look at me like that, like it’s painin ya to talk to me for a
time. I aim only to discuss somethin with ya. I’ve asked Jayne to remain aboard
ship, mainly because I figured you’d stay anyway, and I’m not feeling
comfortable letting you sit in here alone. Jayne’d take care of ya, if you
needed takin care of, ya hear? Just because he’s despicable and paltry, and
ugly, don’t mean he wouldn’t protect ya. But that’s not really what I’m here to
say. What I am here to say is that I’d like you to take lessons from him on how
to defend yourself, both with your body, and with a weapon. He’s agreed,
reluctantly, but he’ll still teach ya well. Use this time without others aboard
to practice and such. Agreed?”

He looked her intently in her face, as if to discern her thoughts through
her eyes as she nodded, and replied,

“Agreed, Sir. How long before we touch down, and how long will I have to
practice?”

“Oh, we’ll be planet side in about an hour, and there for a day or two.
Wash’s got relations close by the market and I reckon the others’ll want ta
spend as much time with them as possible. I want you to be a panther when I get
back.”

He grinned, and chucked her under the chin, which made her smile at his
back as he departed. A good man, with a good heart underneath a rough exterior,
and a quick mind, to boot. If the flame that burned within her for Jayne ever
flickered out, she felt that lovin the Captain wouldn’t be too hard for her to
fathom. Inara wouldn’t take too lightly to it, but that was something for later
thought. She was too pent up with nerves and excitement at what Mal had told her
she was to do while they were gone.


Jayne, on th’ other hand, was flat-out upset about it, and made no bones
about informing Mal of his discontent.

“It ain’t right, Mal! I ain’t no gorram teacher, and I’ve got things to
tend to planet side! Why don’tcha leave Zoë here to teach her?”

“You’re staying with her, Jayne. Like it or not, she’s your pupil. Maybe
you should have never opened that compartment.”

Jayne had no reply to this, other than to scowl and stump off while the
rest of the crew prepared for landing. He made busy to push the majority of the
cargo toward the end of the bay to dump it off and sell it, and also to make
room for the mats he laid out. Glowering at the others as they trod over them
and flung comments back before departing, Jayne hit the lever to bring the bay
doors back up with another curse under his breath.

Turning around, he found Revelle leaning on her forearms against the
railing of the catwalk, watching him. She flushed and looked away from him when
their eyes met, and sauntered down the steps in a pair of Kaylee’s overalls
turned down at the waist, with a tight white tank on underneath. Her dark hair
pulled away from her face, and arms folded over her belly, he thought she’d make
mention of last night’s events now that they were alone. Instead she studied him
for a moment, a soft little smile upon her lips at his scowl, and gave her
shoulders a shrug.

“Captain says I’m to train. What first, great teacher?”

Another typical grunt in reply, his features still in that scowl, but
Jayne removed his hat, and shucked his jacket from broad shoulders, before
removing his gun belt and rubbing his hands together as he stepped toward her,
booted feet muffled on the mats.

“Some of your basic defensive moves. Watch closely.”

Without really making any eye contact, he went through several simple
moves to either disarm or disable without needing great strength to do so. After
making her watch him mime it out a few times, he suddenly flashed a roguish grin
at her, and beckoned with his fingers.

“Now you.”

Her dark eyes roved his length once, wordless, but that smile was
irresistible, almost painful with the twist it sent through her belly. She moved
forward two steps, then lunged at him, and ended up flat on her back after being
spun head over heels, a little breathless. His face loomed over her own, brows
knitted a little.

“I didn’t hurt ya, did I? Naw, didn’t think so. Get on up, an I’ll tell ya
what ya did wrong. You gotta be patient, let me come to you. Don’t rush in,
it’ll make ya sloppy and uncareful. You’re only trying to defend, not attack.
Okay? Lets try it again.”

Several attempts later, when both were breathing hard, she finally managed to bring him down, the butterfly felling the giant,
but at cost to herself, when he caught her upper arm as he fell, and brought her
down atop him with a squeal of laughter. They both made to scramble back up,
caught up in the fight, and Jayne forgot that he was supposed to be teaching,
while she forgot to be trying to learn. The finesse fell out, as it became a
struggle of pure strength, and even though she surprised him with her toughness,
he had better than fifty pounds on her, and quickly had her pinned beneath him,
her wrists restrained on either side of her head. Both panting, she bucked under
him, desperately, to try and heave him off and gain the upper hand... and he
laughed. At that breathy sound, her arched hips pushing her pelvis up against
his suddenly flared with warmth, and the sound died on his lips as the tension
grew suddenly weighted between the too close distance of their faces.

Time seemed to stop, consisting only of their heavy breathing, and the
thrum of her body pulsing under his in that age old, inevitable friction between
male and female. Her lips parted, chin tilted unbidden to offer them up, and
Jayne lowered his own upon them with such agonizing slowness that she made a
small, needy mewl... which was echoed by a groan deep in his chest that sent a
thrill coursing through her body. He claimed her mouth passionately once contact
had been made, and she allowed the kiss, eagerly returning it when he let her.
Their quickened breathing had grown to fevered gasps, and she moved her body in
a slow, desirous undulation under his, her wrists still trapped, her thighs not.

She pushed her hips slowly up against his, rolling them in a graceful,
seductive manner she didn’t even have to think about - Jayne groaned again, into
her mouth as his tongue swept across her palate. He released her wrists, to prop
himself on his elbows, and pushed his groin in response back against her teasing
motions, letting her clearly feel his desire for her, and one hand slid into her
hair, while the other glided down along her side, trying to find the bottom hem
of that little white shirt so his fingers could touch skin. Her own hands, now
freed, had gone a similar route- one under his arm to curl around his shoulder
blade and back up to grip his shoulder, the other into the short hairs at his
nape, warm skin damp with sweat and heated on her fingertips, also serving to
urge him not to stop.

His hand reached her hip, and she arched her back into him, to feel the
bite of his fingers in her skin, as his hand clamped a little tighter, holding
her against him as she rose with a little shudder. Her jaws ached, stretched
wide as he pressed his mouth to hers, tongue hungry and evasive, a kiss that
stole the air from her lungs and left her lips tingling and swollen when he
broke it.

“You know whatch’re doin, girl?”

Gravel from Jayne’s throat, his breathing ragged as he questioned her, his
thick fingers wound in the spun silk of her raven curls, and those of his other
hand finally breaching the perimeter of her clothing and sliding a rough, warm
palm ever so slowly along the side of her ribcage. The hastily sucked air drew
shaky through her teeth at that touch, and she gazed up at him, inches from her
own face, with drowsy, lidded eyes, and a lazy sort of smile pulled at the
corner of her mouth.

He knew she didn’t know the sort of exquisite hell she was putting him
through right now, but that damnable smile on her sultry lips made him wonder.
Maybe it was simply the look of a woman who knew the effect she could have on a
man, or maybe she was spinning in her own little cocoon of guilty pleasure, but
his eyes couldn’t have torn away from the slow lick she took of her lips,
tasting him upon them, and the little nip of her white teeth at that sweet lower
petal so swollen from his kiss. She felt the surge of his erection against her
loins, and it pulled the smile a little more, even as a lazy, uneven coil shot
through her belly.

“I want you, Jayne. I want to say thank you, and I’ve wanted it for so
long...”

She couldn’t quite pin it down to the first time she’d seen him, for she
barely remembered it, just as the second meeting at her first awakening, for
both were hazy and unclear, and she couldn’t even remember what had been said or
done, but she did clearly remember seeing his handsome, expressionful face, and
knew that she looked for it, and found it appealing even when it was scowling,
as did the rest of him. He held a quiet strength that the bluster and bull hid
from a lot of people, but the tenderness he’d been so reluctant to give her, to
allow the others to see he had in him, simply served to endear him further. She
owed him her life, and she aimed to repay him in just about any manner he would
accept, even if it meant a potential cost to her own heart, should it come to
that. Jayne didn’t really seem the marrying, lovin’ one woman sort, but that was
thinking far too far ahead. She could warm his bed and sate his needs for a
time... at least, that was what she was thinking, and never got the chance to
voice it, for they were interrupted by a loud clang, and the mechanism of the
bay door lowering.

In a quick scramble, he rolled off of her and both were hastily up on
their feet and a good distance apart, without a word further spoken, and both
looking like they’d been interrupted during a sweaty lesson, and not nearly
something indecent. In due time, too, for in tromped the entire crew- nearly
everyone but Mal looking right upset at having to return. He paused after
passing between she and Jayne, turning back to look between them for a moment,
and Jayne almost confessed, thinking the captain knew, but Mal spoke first,

“Sorry Jayne, your pupil has work to do. Rev, we’ve got goods for ya, and
I reckon Kaylee could use your help with em. You can study later. We’ve got to
hit the skies.”

“Yes sir.."

She nonchalantly swiped at her face, her kiss swollen lips feeling raw and
obvious, and didn’t notice Inara’s keen observance as she bent to gather sacks
into her arms, chatting with Kaylee as she did so. Mal was right, there was work
to do. But she couldn’t help the little pit-patter of her heart as her blood
quickened when she thought of Jayne as she worked for the rest of the day in the
galley and storage rooms, and felt the graveyard shift couldn’t come soon
enough.

As she was serving up the crew’s dinner, Mal asked to see what Jayne had
taught her after the meal was finished. She flushed, to her dismay, but no one
seemed to notice. Jayne himself, she noticed, was sticking to his head down,
shovel-it-in-without-tasting-it procedure, and shoved off from the table before
anyone else had finished, leaving room for Kaylee and Simon to insist that she
take his vacated place and eat with them.

Talking animatedly with Wash about something, she felt Inara’s gaze upon
her, and glanced across to meet the other woman’s equally dark eyes. Inara
smiled, and she returned it, then continued chatting until Mal rose and nodded
toward the door with a little lilt of his brow at her. She followed, and it
wasn’t until she was on his heels down into the cargo bay that she realized that
Mal was the reason Inara had been looking at her. She, as did the rest of the
crew and passengers, knew of the love-hate relationship between the two, and
felt the harbored affection that both were reluctant to divulge. Inara, the
trained and reserved Companion, was jealous. Of her. The irony of it almost made
her laugh, especially when Jayne was figured into the picture.

Mal took her through the moves she’d half-assed learned from Jayne, and
showed her several more - complicated as dance moves, and ended the session with
showing her how to properly hold and fire several different guns. He stood
behind her, arms around her own in an embrace that allowed him an accurate grip
on the weapon as well, but was not, she felt, sexual or tension filled in the
least. He was simply trying to show her, not grope her- but she almost squeezed
the trigger and shot Serenity’s belly full of holes when a sharp bang echoed
through the bay, startling her and the captain alike. He instantly whirled away
from her, hand on his own gun at his hip, instinctually on guard. Nothing. But
she guessed it had been Jayne, and she was right.

He’d been watching, confused by the angry little knot in his belly that
grew and ached, unable to put his thumb on exactly what was grumbling his guts.
The kicker had been watching Mal put his arms around her, trying to ‘teach’ her
how to hold a gun. One of Jayne’s own guns, too! Well, it’d been too much to
watch, and although he couldn’t identify what it was that made him so angry, the
jealousy nearly tinged his grimacing face green as he stomped away to his bunk.

By the time he got there, he wondered if she’d come to him again tonight.
Just in case, he made sure to leave the hatch unlocked, and the floor cleared of
junk and gun clips. He’d also gone to the extent of changing his sheets, and
stuffing all his stinky, dirty clothes into a sack and shoving them in a cabinet
set in the wall. For hours before the change of shift, he stayed in his room,
with anxious hands that had to be kept busy so that his mind didn’t try to work
too much. He disassembled, oiled and cleaned each and every one of his good
guns, and spent almost an hour deciding which of his little ones he wanted to
give to her. He’d be damned if Mal would take over the job he’d been given, and
give her one of his antique pistols. In truth, he’d once coveted Mal’s guns, but
now the thought of him giving them to her... they were all wrong for her, and
Mal didn’t even realize. Her touch was too light for the kick of a revolver, but
she had strength in her hands, which most women didn’t, which ruled out the
typical snub nose for a female. Finally, he had the one picked out, the perfect
one for her, and wrapped it up in oilcloth, stuffed it under his pillow, and
left to take a shower before going to bed, half hoping to find her in his bed
already when he returned. He was mildly disappointed when she wasn’t, but soon
dozed off none-the-less.

She’d truly debated on the risk of joining him again, and the certain lack
of sleep she was sure to attain, for there’d be no sleep between them now. As
the shift changed, and the crew were all either heading for or already in their
bunks, she’d made up her mind not to go, but also not to turn him away should he
come to her... but the instant she turned out her lights and tried to curl up in
her cold, empty bed, she knew there was no use pretending. So while she waited
for things to settle down, she changed into several different outfits and such
to be hidden under her robe, but, in the end, opted for the best choice, her
original one of simply the robe. After all, she could always say she was going
to the showers. An hour or a little more into the graveyard shift, she slunk
from her room once more, barefoot in her white cotton robe, and took a silent,
light footed beeline for his bunk. Pushing the hatch open with her foot as
silently as she could, she descended the rungs and stepped off to allow it to
close behind her, as her hand moved to slide the latch and bolt it from the
inside. It was dark in the bunk, and her heart had been pounding too hard for
her to instantly notice any sounds of snoring that would say he was asleep. She
took two halting little steps away from the ladder toward the bed, and stopped
when he whispered behind her, coming up to encircle her waist with his strong
arms and hang his chin over her shoulder to nuzzle her neck, his goatee tickling
her nape.

“Well, what do we have here? A bunk crasher, eh? Well, do ya know what we
do to those sort around here?”

She giggled softly, her hands lifting to rest on his arms, as she bent her
head to the side to allow his lips to bite softly at her skin. When she didn’t
speak, he lifted his head slightly, to brush his words against her ear, before
nipping at her lobe.

“No? Well, you’re about to find out...”

He smiled at the soft inhale she’d taken at the warm breath on her ear,
and slid one hand from around her waist slowly up the front of her robe to cup a
breast, while the other splayed on her belly, pulling her closely against his
body. She made a soft sound, pressing back against him, and one of her hands
rose to climb around the back of his neck, his head bent over her as he scraped
his teeth lightly against her neck to feel the tremble in her frame. Those
thick, hard fingers cupping her breast through the fabric left off, and moved to
the neckline of her robe, trailing lightly along the bare flesh between her
breasts, inching teasingly under the fabric until they reclaimed the full globe
of her breast and grasped the hard little bud waiting there so eagerly for him,
as he kissed under her jaw. The sound from her throat at this was less soft, and
less quiet, and her body twitched against him as her back arched a little,
thrusting that needy nub harder into his fingers, and pushing her ass sensually
back against him.

With a final light kiss to that side of neck, he trailed them around
behind, along her nape, until reaching the other side, while the hand on her
belly used the distraction his other had gained to pull on the belt of her robe.
It parted, and Jayne flicked his thumb across that nipple, and lifted both his
hands to pull the robe from her shoulders, leaving her nude in the blackness
before him. Not that it mattered much, he could almost hear her body thrumming,
and felt the heat from her as she stood so close.

Both rough palms on her shoulders, he slid them over skin so wonderfully
soft and smooth, down over her arms to trace her sides and hips, feeling the
goose bumps form, and knowing her pert breasts would be eager and straining by
the time he reached them after gliding his hands over her belly, and ever so
slowly up. She gasped, a sharp sound, and his palms brushed a nipple each, the
hard little pebble grazed against his rough pad, and teased her mercilessly for
as long as she’d allow, before giving them each a simultaneous pinch, hard
enough to make her cry out, as he bit none too gently on the back of her neck.
Her knees wobbled, and he laughed as he wrapped an arm around her to steady her.

“Easy, girl... You sure you up to this? I’m aimin’ to take all gorram
night on you...”

Her body thrummed in his grasp, as she replied with slow, shaky breath
before twisting around to face him.

“Yes...”

Hands slid over his still t-shirt clad chest and up over his shoulders to
curl around his neck, pale arms warm even through the fabric of his shirt as she
pulled herself closely against him. His own hands fell to her waist, sliding
over her curves to grip her ass cheeks with broad hands and lift her a little
roughly. Her parted lips had lifted to seek his, and her nose bumped his chin as
he pulled, their mouths meeting the next moment. He was stooped a little, both
to kiss her, and to drop his hands under her firm butt, and straightened up with
a soft little grunt into her mouth, his arms bringing her up with him. She
sighed, and tightened her grip on his shoulders, her legs parting to curl
instinctually around his waist as he brought her up to his level and pressed the
hot core of her against his flat abdomen.

With legs hooked around, she slid her fingers through his short hair as
she returned his kisses just as eagerly. He growled softly, and the kiss
deepened, his tongue probing deep and invasive while one of his hands moved up
her spine and into her hair. Tangling the silken strands around his fingers, he
pulled firmly to force her head back, chin up, and moved the attentions of his
mouth to her jaw, then throat. He could almost taste the passion that flowed so
quickly through her veins, her heartbeat rapid against his mouth as he pressed
it to her jugular. Nipping and teasing, just to draw more than a sigh from her
lips, he worked slowly along her neck and collarbone, dropping chin to tease the
tops of her breasts also, until she was writhing in his grasp and pressing her
groin against him in the most needful way.

He turned with her, and walked to the bed’s edge, before lowering her from
him, slowly at first so that she moved the length of his body and her aching
loins would feel the hard strain of his erection burning behind his trousers as
it passed. The sound she made brought a smile to his lips, and he tossed her
further back upon the bed. She made a small, pleased noise, and pressed her lean
thighs together against the throb at her crux, extending her arms to him. The
room was all but lightless, but for the faintest glow from lighting in the
ductwork, but they’d both adjusted to it, able to discern what they needed.
Jayne daren’t turn on any more lights, for they’d glow around the crack of his
door, and he didn’t want any more visitors tonight. This one was more than
enough. Although he longed to part those lovely, smooth legs and ram himself
home between them, he held back, restraining himself because he wanted to show
her he was strong and knowledgeable, and could please a woman as well as protect
her.

“Jayne...”

She whispered, a tone of urgency just under it, and he felt her starting
to sit up. He quickly pulled his shirt off over his head and tossed it behind
him, and knelt on the edge of the bed to find her lips once more and force her
back down under him as he crept forward. She slid her hands over his skin,
wanting to feel every warm inch of his bare hide, and arched her back up into
him to press her warmth to his.

Levered on one elbow, the fingers of that hand buried in the thick hair
beneath her head, he brushed along her side with skimming knuckles, then up to
tease the side of her full breast until she pushed at him, shuddering softly,
and he circled the nipple with this forefinger and thumb to pull on it and
pinch. She moaned into his mouth, as her body moved beneath his in a dance she’d
not known she could do, trying to push her hips into his to sate the slow throb
in her loins. He broke the kiss once more to press small kisses along her jaw
line, and nip at her earlobe in a move that make her already hard nipples ache
and stiffen even more in his fingers, with a little cry.

He grunted, and moved to her throat, then down further, to blow warm air
across those stiffened peaks, drawing his hand from behind her head to add the
same attention to her other breast. She trembled and moaned a little louder, her
hips twitching, and gave a sharp little cry as he brought his mouth to one of
those aching nubs, rolling the other in his fingers. He continued this, working
back and forth, until she was breathing as hard as if she’d run a marathon, and
her hips were straining up against him.

She was warm and throbbing all over with the ache of need, her loins
shifting and rolling under him in a desperate dance for release. He finally took
pity on her breathy whimpers, and trailed warm kisses down her belly, sliding
his hands as he went, along her hips, to push her into the bed. Sweet
anticipation, the thrill of knowing she’d soon know bliss, surged through her,
quickening her breath even more. He knelt between her legs, nudged her knees
apart gently, and stooped to blow that same air, this time cool and very
noticeable, across her heated sex. She shivered, biting back a cry as she
gripped the blankets, and steadied herself for him. Her eyes popped open, wide
in the dark, as his tongue flicked teasingly, then in a broad, warm stroke,
along the sides of her sex, and she gasped loudly, surprised. He chuckled
softly, a low, growly sound, and pushed her thighs further apart with his hands,
before trailing them closer in to help ply those swollen lips.

“Quiet now, girl, if you don’t want this to stop. We wouldn’t want to get
caught, now.”

She made some sound that wasn’t a reply by any means, but he just chuckled
again, and buried his face in her sweet dew. He heard her clap a hand over her
face, as she shuddered violently, then pressed her hips into him, then drew
back, and twitched her hips around some more. He teased and poked, licked and
stroked, until she was almost sobbing with each breath, her need for release
simmering just under the surface, and he knew the trigger that would send her
over the edge. He’d been pointedly ignoring that hard little nub, no matter how
she whined and tried to angle her hips so that he’d pay attention to it, but had
also accidentally bumped it a few times, bringing her right to the edge and
crazy with the urge to orgasm.

He caught it with his teeth and brought his tongue across it in a hard
stroke, and she sucked in so much air that it left her silent for a long moment,
he never knew how close she’d actually come to blacking out, both from the head
rush of too much air, and the sheer joy of ecstasy. She rushed out of it, and
straight up that elusive peak to tremble upon the brink of that precipice with
such quickness and force it shook a little sob from her throat, and she bit down
on that hand over her mouth, while her other flew to the back of his head to
hold that wonderful tongue in place as she fell over the edge and rode the waves
of orgasm until they ebbed. His tongue did not obey, and flickered around,
causing each smooth wave to crest, heightening the pleasure for her, and leaving
her a gasping, boneless puddle upon his bed as he finally pulled back. He was
unable to resist having a look at her like this, and reached over to click on
the bedside lamp. A warm flood of light illuminated them both, and he groaned as
his penis stiffened even more at the sight of her. Black hair in a tangled curly
halo around her face and shoulders, pink flush to her skin. Her breasts were
full and lovely upon her chest, as were the lazy little curl of her arms, one
above her head, the other on her pale stomach, where she’d dropped them. Legs
slightly bent and apart, the soft little thatch of trimmed fur barely visible in
the shadow.

“Lord help me, Revelle. You’re so gorram beautiful...”

She opened her dark eyes to give him a half lidded gaze, swollen lips
curling in a faint smile.

“Can’t wait to see you, either. Want some help with those pants? They’re
lookin kinda tight on ya...”

She breathed in a husky whisper, her chest rising and falling appealingly,
so that he wanted to touch her all over again, just to hear her mewl his name
and writhe under his hands. He brought both his hands to his belt, working the
buckle loose, but she’d already risen to her knees and settled herself on the
edge of the bed, sitting facing him. She brushed his hands aside, and they
willingly dug into her hair while she pulled his belt from his hips and popped
the top button of his trousers apart.

When she lowered the zipper and pushed the pants down, his erection pulsed
firmly against the thin fabric of his under shorts, and she smiled softly as she
lowered those as well, allowing his hard length to spring free. At the sight of
it, hard and thick and straining toward her, her loins clenched, an eager,
uneasy coil of desire looping through her belly. She leaned forward and pressed
a series of light kisses to his abdomen and hip, trailing them closer while his
thick fingers closed a little tighter the nearer she drew to that hot, throbbing
staff. One hand slid up his inner thigh, stroking the soft hairs, and cupped
lightly under the heavy sack. It twitched in her palm, and she closed her
fingers gently around it to knead softly, as her other hand closed slowly around
the thick base before her face. He sighed softly, and she looked up at him as
she ran the tip of her tongue over the broad head in a slow swirl. His fingers
tightened further, eyes cast downward to watch her, and as they met her own he
growled,

“Tease...”

She smiled at him, and stroked her hand along the length of his cock,
pulling gently, and closed her mouth around the thick head, with a flurry of
tongue flicks that caused his hips to jerk against her. Her hand moved from the
shaft, to splay on his hip, and she moved her mouth forward to take in as much
of his erection as she could, while her tongue continued moving against the
sensitive underside. He groaned above her, and his hands moved to her shoulders
as she began bobbing her head faster against him, drawing the thick length out
to just the head, then plunging her mouth back in. His hips jerked again, moving
against her as she quickened her tempo, and her fingers kneaded that heavy sack
gently. His breath caught, and he pulled back from her suddenly, the head of his
cock popping from her mouth with an audible sound that made her laugh as she
wiped at her lips.

“Getcher ass back on that bed, girl... I’m not done with you yet.”

He said, gruffly, with his throbbing member wagging before him. She smiled
coyly, loving the firm tone he used, and scooted back eagerly, to lay her head
on the pillow and wait for him to lower his strong body over her own. One hand
slid under the pillow as she stretched, and her fingers hit cold steel. She drew
it out, and looked up at him standing above her, one raven brow arched
quizzically.

“Its yours. I forgot to give it to ya.”

He said, and she made a small noise in reply, setting it aside as her eyes
drifted closed, and she was surprised by a broad, wet stroke of his tongue upon
her sex, and nearly sat back upright with a gasp. But he was upon her before she
could, and met that gasp with his own mouth to stifle the sound. Strong arms,
like pillars, pressed on either side of her, and his hard body lay warm atop
her, heavy, yes, but not crushing. She curled her arms around him, pressing her
skin to his, as her hips rose to meet him. The thick head of his cock stabbed at
her sex, abusing swollen lips and an aching nub, with made her gasp again into
his mouth, but he kept up, mercilessly, until it turned to pleasure and she was
arching and mewling once more under him. He found her moist core with the head,
and slowly slid the very tip in, then out, teasing until she was clawing at his
back unconsciously, fairly writhing under him in an effort to force him within
her. His kisses were tender and soft, trailed around to just below her ear, and
her throat. Just when she knew she could stand no more, and was either going to
scream out or cry for him to stop, he plunged forward and impaled her upon his
rock hard cock, and, at the same moment, bit savagely on the side of her neck.

She couldn’t help it, the cry flew from her lips without a second thought,
far past the point of caring who heard. She didn’t care anymore, in fact. Let
them all know that she was in his bed, under him, taken by him. Let them all
know that she was his girl.

He growled in response, and pulled slowly out before sliding himself back
in, a little quicker. He knew he’d hurt her, from the way her body had jumped
even as he bit at her neck, and really, it was her fault. She’d made him this
way, he’d never been this hard or desirous of a woman before. And since he
couldn’t fault her that one cry, and she didn’t try to make him stop, he
continued, picking up the tempo after a few minutes. Lifting himself with one
hand, he pulled back from her neck to look at her from a short distance. She had
her eyes closed, head turned to one side, and he could already see the angry red
mark where his teeth had been, and it made his penis twitch inside her. She was
biting her lips, trying to keep the cries inside, but as he levered himself up,
his hips had a better time of it.

One hand now free, he put it on her shoulder, the other buried in the
pillow beside her head, and rammed himself deep inside her. Her eyes popped
open, back arching toward him, those lovely breasts with rosy nipples heaving,
and he caught the cry from her lips with a cupped palm. His rough hand pressed
unkindly to her lips, as their eyes met. She wanted this, her gaze clearly said
to him, as she brought her own hands up to rest atop his one, not prying at his
fingers, but helping him press the cries into silence. With the sounds stifled,
her held tightly down, he fucked her eager and willing body with a savage need,
slamming hard into her and catching each sweet cry in his fingers, until his
body clenched, fire in his loins, and he spent his seed within her velvety walls
and collapsed upon her.

Several minutes passed with no sound but their labored breathing, and
then, groans clenched behind teeth. She worked one hand free, incased in a
blissful bubble of sweat and heavy man atop her, to find that sore spot on her
neck. It felt wealed and angry, and he lifted his head to see what she was
doing.

“I didn’t hurt ya too bad, did I?”

His husky whisper held a true note of concern, as he rolled to one side,
pulling his now softened member from her and scrambling for his t-shirt from the
floor to hand to her. She used it, and flopped back down to curl in the damp,
panting crux of his arm, her bare breast on his chest, cheek on his shoulder
while she caressed the limp source of her pain and pleasure.

“It was wonderful.”

She lifted those dark eyes to him, sleep lidded and already growing heavy,
as his were. He grunted, and pulled her tighter to him after turning off the
bedside light, as sleep began to drag him down.

“Good...”

It had been the best for him, as well, but he didn’t say that out loud. He
drifted off before she did, and she watched him go with a lazy pitter-pat of her
heart at the sight of him. It was far too early for any sort of romantic
feelings, she knew. But she’d also been harboring a girl’s crush on her knight
in not-so-shining armor since the day she awoke onboard, and this night had been
the cumulation of weeks of fantasizing and thinking about him. It was too much
to even hope that he’d one day ever return them, but she couldn’t deny that she
was excited about the prospect of spending many more nights like this.


The first bell alarm went off, and she jerked awake, still in his arms,
but half atop him, wrapped in a sheet. He grunted and drew his strong arms
around her tightly, and she was more than half tempted to remain, and say screw
breakfast. A moment passed where she almost drifted back off, but her mind
cleared and she awoke with a start, realizing just what time it was, and how
long she had before everyone would be expecting breakfast.

“Shit!”

She slid from his arms and fell off the bed with a thud, cursing again
quietly. Scrambling for her robe, she threw it on and paused as she was headed
up the ladder to glance over at him. He hadn’t even moved, and the rise and fall
of his broad chest told that he still slept. As she poked her head out and found
the coast clear, he opened one sleepy eye to watch her legs disappear, before
rolling over with a little groan.

As she darted down the corridor to the washroom, she turned around to
nearly run directly into River, who calmly sidestepped, and canted a curious
head at her.

“You have a funny smell, Revelle.”

She, in reply, blushed furiously at this, and looked around nervously as
she folded her arms over her belly.

“Well, I’m on the way to take a shower before I start breakfast. Would you
mind making the coffee for me while I wash up, River?”

“I can make coffee for you, Revelle. You should go wash before Jayne wakes
up. He might get mad if he knew you smelled like him. Only Jayne should smell
like Jayne, and you reek like him.”

River wrinkled her nose as if to display how gross she thought this was,
and Revelle coughed, then shushed the girl as she bit the inside of her lip to
keep from laughing.

“Okay, I’m going! Don’t tell anyone, okay? What would the Captain think if
I started smelling like him, or Inara?”

She darted past the girl and into the baths, unheeding of River’s muttered
reply as she turned and moved toward the galley.

“Might do both of them some good.”


She washed at top speed, cursing quietly at the bite mark clearly evident
on the side of her neck, and wrapped in a clean towel to dart through the lower
level of the ship on a beeline for her room. Simon stepped out of the Med-Lab
after she’d passed, wiping his hands on a small cloth, and shaking his head at
her towel clad backside as she disappeared into her quarters. An odd girl, that
one. Made a good friend for River, and quite pretty, but she seemed to hold a
torch for Jayne, even though the great brute hadn’t a clue, and avoided her like
the plague. She was closer to his own age than Kaylee was, and a little less
naive, but that’s what he liked Kaylee for in the first place. She was so sweet
and kind, while Revelle seemed to hold something a little darker in her soul, be
it from what had happened to her or not. She’d be a good one for the Captain, if
he and Inara ever decided to get it all over with and come to terms with their
attraction. Since he didn’t see that happening anytime soon, he figured she’d
just have to keep on sighing as Jayne ignored her even more.


At breakfast a few people noticed the smile upon Revelle’s lips, combined
with the spiffy little outfit she’d found to wear. Clothing pilfered from Inara,
and a long scarf tied about her neck, with that dark hair all down around her
face. She looked different, Mal, Zoë and Simon all thought. Wash and Inara knew
why, although only Wash knew with who. Inara was worried about who she thought
it was. Book and Kaylee were oblivious, chatting boisterously. Jayne showed up
late, and took the plate River handed to him before stumping off to eat
elsewhere. If Revelle showed any signs of caring what the latecomer did, she
didn’t even cast him half a glance, but dug through her meal as if she were
starving. Finished before anyone but River, the two of them started cleaning up,
making a game of it.

Mal used the bit of repose to announce that they’d be landing again today
to spend more time planet side for another job. Wash and Zoë would stay with the
ship, Jayne and he would be on the job, and the rest were free to roam the
little town and do whatever shopping and such that they desired. Kaylee
squealed, gleeful and eager to spend what little credits she had while Inara and
River could go with her, with Simon and Book agreeing to tag along to watch over
them. Rinsing the dishes, Revelle glanced up to find Jayne leaning in the
doorway, listening to the captain’s orders. He caught her glance and winked
roguishly at her, and she fumbled the dish and almost dropped it, but River
darted out one quick hand and snagged it before it crashed, dipping it in the
warm water with a smile at her. In turn, she buried her slightly trembling hands
in the soapy water, back turned to the others, and resolutely finished scrubbing
up the dishes while the rest rose from the table and went back about their
various tasks. River laid the towel across Revelle’s shoulder, and followed
Simon out, skipping across the steel grated floor in her combat boots.

Left to her own whirling mind and the dirty dishes waiting for her, she
turned to gather those from the long table, and looked up to see Zoë lingering
in the doorway. She offered the other woman a questioning smile as she stacked
the dirty plates and bowls, and Zoë stepped into the room, running a hand over
the top of her head as she cleared her throat. Expectantly, Revelle paused,
raven brows raised quizzically. Zoë made a low noise, much like a grunt, and
propped her hip against the jamb.

“Cap’n says this is for you,” extending her arm, the other woman held out
her hand to Revelle. “He wants you to go with the others, spend some money on
yourself. Says you can’t spend the rest of your days holed up on this boat
without ever feelin’ the sun. You’ll be safe if you stick close to the others,
and we can sweet-talk Jayne into lendin’ you a gun if it’d make you feel safer.”

Revelle had reached out to accept what Zoë held in her hand before hearing
the woman’s words, and instantly protested, trying to shove the credits back
into Zoe’s hand. The other woman shook her dark head as she stepped back up the
metal stairs, her full mouth pursed in a reproachful gesture.

“Don’t want to hear it. Captain’s orders. ‘Sides, it’s not much, anyhow.
Just enough to get somethin’ to eat, if you’re inclined. We’ll be setting down
in a couple of hours.”

She said, matter of factly, before heading back down the corridor. Her
face betrayed no emotion, but internally, she was a little bit worried about the
girl they’d picked up almost a month before. She’d shown no interest in leaving
the ship, seemingly content to flit quietly around and be the ship maid, cooking
and cleaning. And while it was a nice respite not having to listen to her
husband and Jayne bicker over doing the chores, it just didn’t sit well with her
having someone around for no other reason than to pick up after the crew. It
wasn’t like the girl was paying for board or passage, what little they’d
salvaged from her ship had barely paid for the fuel they’d spent getting out to
it. She knew the Captain, the entire crew, she supposed, with the exception of
Jayne, felt sorry for the girl, but how far did kindness and charity get a bare
bones crew out in the black when there was barely enough food for a crew half
their size? She pursed her lips again, tromping toward the cockpit, leaving her
doubts behind for the time as she met up with her husband and Mal.

In the galley, Revelle reluctantly pocketed the credits she knew the
Captain had scraped from his own funds, guilt resting in a sour knot just below
her breastbone as she dumped the gathered dishes into the cooling water of the
sink to finish up. Uneasy and apprehensive about the prospect of setting foot on
ground again, that sour knot twisted with nerves as she fought with the various
things that could go wrong while she was away from the safety of Serenity.
Behind her, a soft scrape of bootsole announced someone’s presence, but before
she could turn around a strong arm slid around her waist to pull her firmly back
against a broad chest, and the free hand swept away her hair to lower a nuzzling
kiss to her nape. His touch already so familiar, she laughed softly and leaned
into him, hands still immersed in the suds. Jayne’s mouth moved along her jaw,
sending that heated thrill through her body as he ran his hands along it.

“You forgot somethin’.”

He whispered into her ear with warm breath, and slid something cool and
hard under the hem of her shirt, hooking her waistband with it. She cried out
softly, laughing as she tried to move away from the coldness of the metal
barrel, but he just chuckled and shoved the gun firmly into the top of her
pants. With both hands, he spun her around, uncaring of her wet, soapy hands,
and lowered his mouth upon hers in a kiss, possessive and heated, albeit brief.
Breaking it to fold something into her hands, he spoke gruffly, with a glance
over his shoulder.

“That's for you, while me’n the others are on the job.”

“Jayne, I...”

“Naw, just take it, girl. Getcher self sumthin nice that didn’t come from
Kaylee or ‘Nara. I’ll see ya after the job.”

He wanted to add ‘Be careful’, or ‘I wish I didn’t have to go on the
gorram job so I could stay and make sure you’re okay’, but, in the end, he
simply spun her back around to the sink, patted her rump, and stumped out as
quickly as he could while still looking nonchalant as he passed Simon in the
corridor, shoving the smaller man aside with a growled, “Whaddya lookin at?” and
not pausing to allow Simon to point out the twin wet hand prints on the front of
his shirt. With a slightly bewildered look, the doctor stared after him.


As the ship settled down with a not so gentle thump, the majority of the
crew and passengers assembled in the cargo bay, readying for a foray off ship.
Jayne, Mal and Zoë waited on the catwalks for Wash to join them, while the
others hovered around the big bay door, waiting for the ship to complete docking
so they could lower the ramp. Close enough to the biggest city on the rim planet
for walking distance, the battered four wheeler was to be used by the crew on
the job. Red dust puffed up as the ramp shuddered down, and the ship’s
Companion, engineer, preacher, doctor, his sister, and their refugee, all headed
out blinking in the bright sunlight. River slipped around her protective
brother, and slid her slender hand in one of Revelle’s as they headed down the
ramp.

Descending the stairs from the catwalk, Zoë glanced over her husband’s
head to pass a look at Jayne, who was watching the girls cavort out into the
sunlight. Her chocolate eyes narrowed slightly, wondering, as she always did,
just what exactly was going on in that thick skull the mercenary had. Sometimes
he surprised her with rational thought that came close to intelligence, but most
times he seemed as empty headed as an ox. This time was no exception, and she
indulged in a brief illumination on what life must be like through Jayne’s eyes,
until a slight nod from the Cap’n brought her around. They had money to be made
today, and it wouldn’t get done astandin around.

Not to be left out, Kaylee imitated River and Revelle by hooking one arm
through Inara’s and dragging her over to link her free arm through River’s
other, leaving the two menfolk to share a bemused look as if to say, “Well, I’m
not gonna hold your hand, so don’t think about it!” and fall a little ways
behind to allow the girls to walk all together. Heads bent conspiratorially,
River and Kaylee giggled about something, complete with shaded glances over
their shoulders. Revelle and Inara traded sidelong looks, before following suit
with joint glances back at the two men and slow smiles of indulgence.

Tromping through the red dust to the cadence of female voices, Revelle
sent another look over her shoulder at the sound of the quad roaring down the
ramp and tried to quell the unease fighting to rise within her with a smile at
Book, who caught her eye when she looked his way. She turned back around as the
older man leaned sidelong to speak to Simon, and the four-some turned the
unpaved corner to find the outskirts of the market stretched before them.
Canopied tents ranged as if they’d been dropped there, and the further they
continued along the road, the thicker they, and the people thronging through
them, became.

River broke rank suddenly, tearing her fingers from Revelle’s to bolt
forward into a tent, even as Simon cried out to her. Before she could even start
after the girl Simon knocked her roughly aside to follow his sister in a panic.
They emerged moments later, as the rest of the group continued toward the tent,
with River arguing heatedly with Simon. Inara caught Revelle’s eye with a
significant glance, and directed her gaze to Kaylee, who stared at Simon and his
sister almost idiotically, before angling her head slightly, understanding
immediately the desire to remove herself from the altercation, even as Book
attempted to interject with some wise advice that drew him animatedly into the
center of it, Revelle took Kaylee’s elbow and steered her gently around to face
Inara and the trio moved quickly across the path to another stand.

A few moments of browsing, Kaylee finally distracted enough from the
argument still ensuing, the girl was showing something to Inara as Revelle
handled a small glass bauble a few feet away at another tent. The crowd of
people had increased, and in some places they were actually elbow to elbow,
shoving and haggling loudly to create quite a din. Fear prickled the fine hairs
on the nape of her neck with a chill, and she looked around wildly with a gasp,
startled and sure that someone was bound to harm her. No one even glanced her
direction, besides the owner of the stall whose wares she juggled.

Catching the old woman’s hawk-eyed glare, she gently replaced the bauble
with a placating smile to her, and turned around to leave. Instead, she ran
directly into someone standing behind her, and before she could even think about
drawing the gun at her waistline the man had clapped his hand over her mouth,
covering her nose as well with some coldly wet cloth. Her first gasping breath
was meant to burst back out as a scream, but she pulled it through the cloth and
it tasted funny upon her lips... even as black stars began whirling before her
eyes. Her captor’s face loomed in hers, lips moving in unheard words as he urged
her to take one more deep breath. She did, unable not to, and her world sunk to
darkness.


Her first thought was that she’d slept funny in her bunk, cramped up
awkwardly to accommodate something bulky in her bed, and that her arms and legs
had suffered accordingly. Slowly opening her eyes to blackness, she blinked
several times uncomprehendingly, as if to clear the darkness from her mind like
fog. It did not lift, and her senses slowly began to return. Arms and legs
ached, yes. She seemed to be bound, hands before her, and at her ankles, and was
laying on her side. The floor swayed softly below her, but also thrummed with
quiet power. Something gagged her, cloth by it’s feel against her tongue, and
stretched the corners of her mouth painfully.

Suddenly panicked by the restraint, she cried out from behind the gag, and
kicked out with her legs, flailing her body like a landed fish, only to connect
with something soft and warm on both sides of her, and gain surprised and
wounded cries, muffled, in return. Comprehension dawned suddenly, and she knew
the darkness to be caused by a hood, rough cloth of much the same type she
suspected also gagged her. Others were in her same predicament, it seemed.

To remain calm would be her ally, she knew this, but it was difficult to
fight the rising claustrophobia of being unable to move, and the ebbing terror
that welled in her heart. What was happening!? Who would do this to her, and
what did they want?

Her questions would be soon answered, she discovered, as she felt the sway
lessen, and the vibration increase below her, becoming less of a thrum and more
of a jounce as their ride lost momentum. Suddenly, silence fell, and all became
still. Listening to her own ragged breathing, Revelle became more aware of
another’s, directly behind her own head. She rolled that direction, much to the
other’s frightened dismay, and found that her arms were only bound at the wrist.
Lifting her hands, she clawed at the hood over her head, ripping it off when it
gave a little at the neck.

Her heart hammered fear out like a smithy shaping some new tool, and she
saw, dimly, that she currently resided in a train car, laid in a row like so
many sardines in a can with many other supine bodies. One dim bulb hung from the
ceiling above, and directly to her left was a door. The other end of the car was
hidden by shadows, set to unearthly movement by the gentle swinging of the light
above.

The figure behind her moaned again, and Revelle looked down upon it. She
knew it was Kaylee by her clothes before she even managed to rip the hood from
the other girl’s head. Frightened rabbit eyes darted around, tear streaked
cheeks mottled and flushed with fear, and met Revelle’s own gaze with confusion
and fear. Formless words came from behind her gag, as she tried to lift her own
arms and found them tied at the elbow all the way around her. Revelle moved her
hands to the rope in an effort to pull it free, when a sudden noise startled
her. Footsteps, headed toward the railcar’s door. She froze, trembling, and
grabbed at Kaylee’s scrabbling hands to clutch them, reassurance for both of
them.

The door was thrown open suddenly, blinding them both with sudden light,
and leaving the figure in outline. A man’s voice boomed out, chuckling laughter
as he surveyed what lay before him.

“A right fine crop! Alright lassies, wake up! Once you’re released, leave
through the door for processing. Stragglers and fighters will be severely
beaten! Now move, bitches!”

Several other male figures streamed past him from behind as he spoke, and
moved through the car, stooping to cut the ties on each prone form’s feet and
tear the hood from their heads. The man bent to cut Revelle’s, and looked up in
surprise at her hoodless head, even as she clawed at his face with her bound
hands, a cry of fear and rage muffled by the gag. He lurched back, tripping over
the girl on the opposite side of her, but not before she got a good handful of
flesh under her nails. He gave a howl and landed on two bodies, flailing around
with knife in hand to try and get back up. She, in turn was already half up, and
pulling at Kaylee to try and get her up as well. A sound behind her, and she
looked in that direction, an instant before the blow landed on her cheek,
sending her, and Kaylee back down.

The crack of the hit seemed, to her, to resound and linger with the
surprisingly painful throbs ebbing through her cheek. It felt like her cheek had
been ripped away, and she belatedly wondered if the bones of her face had been
broken, even as the man who had dealt it grabbed her bound wrists in one ham
fisted maw and dragged her back upright. It was the one who’d grabbed her in the
market, she’d never forget his ugly face. He was also the one who’d thrown open
the door and announced the orders. He snarled, yanking her against him to put
her face inches from his as he bent over her, sour breath washing over her
throbbing cheek.

“I said move out the gorram door! You want another crack to even out your
face, bitch, or are you gonna listen?”

He shouted into her face, even as his piggish eyes narrowed in
recognition, and a grim smile formed over his yellowed teeth. He chuckled dryly
at the defiance in her eyes, and ran a thumb harshly over the rising welt on her
cheek, as she hissed in pain and tried to pull away.

“Oh, you’re gonna get old Mert in trouble for doin this to ya, wench. But
that’s nothing compared to what you’re in for once the General sees ya! Get on,
then!”

The man hauled her around by her bound wrists and shoved her roughly
through the door, calling ahead to the man pulling them from the train in some
foreign language. She looked around wildly for Kaylee, found her frightened and
dirty face in the crowd of other female faces as equally scared and dirty as
she, just before she was pulled bodily from the train by the man and a cohort,
handling her like a sack of meal even as she kicked and flailed, trying to make
her bound body as hard to hold onto as possible. The two men put up with this as
long as it took for them to carry her to the platform beside the train, and she
was bodily thrown into a cage that seemed made just to hold a person, four feet
on all sides. The first man slammed the door shut, gave it a jarring kick, and
stumped off without a backward glance to aid another man with yet another
fighter.

She used the time until the train was unloaded to claw the gag from her
mouth and use her teeth to pick at the rope around her wrists, and then free her
own legs, all the while looking around for either signs that she was detected,
or of familiar faces. Kaylee had been lost in the crowd, most of whom were
surprisingly subservient, and allowed themselves to be herded in a crowded line
around the platform and into a building. There seemed to be well over 40 young
women, of that number about five more had joined herself in the cages lining the
outer wall of the building. She sat uncomfortably in the back, tenderly patting
at the wound to her cheek and watching the train empty, when a sight startled
her nearly as badly as the blow had.

Inara was being led out of the back of the train, her hands tied behind
her back, as well as three more stately women as eloquently dressed as to be the
same thing, Companions. These men were not only stealing women, but registered
Companions as well. Her mouth agape, she watched the women approach, each with a
man at her side to guide her elbow, before she lunged forward suddenly, grabbing
at the bars of her cage with a scream.

“Inara! Inara!!”

Her voice scratched and caught, but the woman looked up at her name, and
found Revelle with the second calling of it. She merely shook her head gently,
and offered a baleful look as the guard moved her inside.

A sudden thought occurred to her, and she scrabbled at the small of her
back desperately for the gun Jayne had given her, meeting a despairing nothing
with her fingertips even as a loathingly familiar chuckle came from her left
side. She threw herself instinctually to the opposite side, as the man hunkered
down and squinted in at her.

“An industrious little twang, aren’t you? Did you really think we’d be so
stupid as to leave you with weapons? Forget it. Forget escape, forget your life
before now. It’s gone, over. This is your life now, and you’ll learn to like
it.” He grinned hideously, a lewdness in it that send a cramp of fear through
her bowels, and ran his gaze speculatively over her frame.

“Who knows, you might even just come to like old Mert. I like em with
fire...”

He was interrupted by the rest of the men climbing the platform, one of
them with red raw stripes down his cheeks. He’d fared much better than a few
others, victims of two of the other girls now in cages also, but his eyes landed
on her with a mixture of anger and something else. She shivered, narrowing her
eyes back at all of them, and the man named Mert stood up.

“Lets get these last ones inside, boys. The General will be mighty
interested in a few of them.” He spoke, laughter less, but grinning at the girls
in cages like animals. Revelle hadn’t noticed, by each heavy metal cage was on a
hydro-plate, and when engaged they floated effortlessly across the platform with
a man behind each. By this time the other girls had managed to free their mouths
and limbs, and two of them began shouting questions and demands, screaming...
while two others, their fire extinguished, sobbed querulously, the worst
imagined.

She, on the other hand, was silent. Observing. She had a good idea what
this was, and it was definitely no good.


Dark eyes stared upward, as she lay on a thin cot, staring at the
featureless ceiling. All was cold steel, from the flooring, to the plain walls
and the heavy door of her windowless, five foot by seven foot cell. Just one in
a corridor of many, the doors spaced across from each other so that the
occupants could only see each other if they pressed themselves to the bars.
Which were coursing with electricity. With a shiver, she pulled an even thinner
blanket around her nude shoulders, and tried to find sleep, any means by which
to escape this living hell she’d entered.

It would not come, forcing her to relive the events that led up to this
point in her mind. Once inside the building, they’d been sent individually
through a set of doors where they’d been forced to strip nude by a trio of
guards and forced under a spray of lukewarm water. Many a scream came from this
place before it was her turn to enter, and when they first ordered her to remove
her clothing, and she refused, she noted the routine way one of them held her
shoulders, and the two others shucked her clothing off her body. It was like a
conveyor belt, just one stop in the line, just one more day of routine work to
these men, not the rape she imagined. When none attempted to touch her after she
was free of her clothing, she was allowed to soap and rinse herself unaided, and
passed through to the next room dripping wet. Another man handed her a towel,
which she wrapped quickly around herself, as he looked at her hair. A soft cluck
of his tongue and he wordlessly sent her past, gesturing with the scissors in
his hand.

Cautiously stepping through the next set of doors, she was again seized by
a pair of hands, and pushed down the corridor to the cell she was currently
residing in. The man had not said a word to her, merely locked the door, and she
had to learn for herself of it’s shocking properties. Since she’d been put
there, every little while a guard would pace down the hall and stop at a door,
as if by random, and take that girl away. During the waiting, Revelle had not
seen one of them come back.

Hours later, how many she had no way of knowing, a guard led another girl
past. Something made her look up, and she saw the side of the girl’s face for an
instant. In a flash she leapt from the cot, blanket held against her, and
grabbed at the bars of the door as she cried out Kaylee’s name, and jerked her
fingers back from the surge of electricity that reached out to bite them. An
answering cry of her own name came back, as well as a guttural grunt of the
guard, and sobs.

“It’s okay, Kaylee! It’s okay we’ll be alright! Don’t be scared!”

She cried out to her, even as the sounds of Kaylee’s crying faded away.

“Yeah, right! Who do you think is gonna save us, huh?”

One of the other girls in a nearby cell jeered angrily in reply for
Kaylee, echoed by several of the others. Revelle made no comment to them, and
slunk back to the cot, curling her knees up against her chest, wrapped in the
blanket.

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was being
awakened by the clang of her door sliding open, and a guard grabbed her arm to
drag her off the cot, mindless of the blanket. She cried out, startled, and
grabbed for it, managing to cling it against her with her free arm. The guard
gave her a shake, and she recognized him as the one she’d clawed.

“Are you gonna behave, or do we need to go to extreme measures?”

“Where are you taking me? What did you do with Kaylee?! What are you going
to do with me?!”

He gave her another brusque shake, hard enough to rattle her teeth in her
head, his fingers biting hard into her upper arm.

“That's not for you to ask. Are you gonna behave or not?”

She silently nodded, and he released her arm. She instantly gathered the
blanket around her to hide her nude form from him, but he seemed not to even
care. With a jerk of his head he indicated the door, and if that wasn’t enough
incentive for her to follow, the butt of his gun smacked her ass.

“Go, then.”

Revelle stumbled ahead of him, the man pushing through this door and that,
through cold corridors lined with unmarked doors. She could have no more found
her way back to the cell than she could have found the exit. Finally he stopped
before an nondescript door, and rapped his knuckles on it. After a moment, the
door swung open to reveal a dim room in shadows, and the guard shoved her
through, shutting the door even as her instincts screamed that there was
something waiting in the dark to hurt her. A choked cry came from her lips, and
she scrabbled at the door handle to get back out, to find there was none. With a
horrified little moan, she placed her hand over her mouth, and clutched her
blanket with the other, leaning her back against the door while she waited for
her eyes to adjust.

She soon discovered that dimly lit as the room was, she was utterly alone
in it. No creature or man lurked in the corners, and it was lightly furnished.
One wall was a mirror in its entirety, with another knobless door adjacent, and
the room contained a wardrobe bolted to a wall, a few low couches and ottomans,
and a plush rug on the floor. On the front of wardrobe a sign noted,

“Choose one garment from inside. Your blanket will remain in your cell.”

A bewildered sound escaped her lips as she opened the doors to reveal
clothing in the barest forms. Sheer and silken negligees, nighties and lingerie
that barely covered anything and revealed everything. A startled laugh bubbled
from her throat, and she slammed the door shut. This was turning out to be
exactly what she’d suspected. Slave trade. And not just that... sex slave trade.
And they expected the girls to be compliant and wear sexy clothing like a harem!
It was ludicrous, and mind-blowing all at the same time. Revelle moaned softly,
and ran a weary hand down her face, wondering how they would ever get out of
this. As she did so, her fingers encountered the weal on her cheek, and she
stepped to the mirrored wall to examine it in the dim light. As she did, the
lights in the room brightened. Alarmed, she backed away, but when nothing
happened after a minute or two, she stepped back up to the mirror. The damage
was not half as great as she’d imagined it to be, and the swelling was already
starting to diminish, but in it’s place a dark smear of bruise was rising to the
surface.

Staring questioningly at herself in the mirror, the lights in the room
dimmed again. This time she did not move, but looked around herself, listening
for something. Nothing happened, and when she returned her gaze to her
reflection, she saw another’s face staring out at her. With a scream she
staggered back from the mirror, and tripped. It was another falsehood, the
mirror had simply hidden another room, and a man within it had watched her while
the lights were out around him. While she’d looked away, he’d turned them up,
revealing himself. A glint of white teeth below eyes hidden by shades, and the
light went back out.

She almost wet herself when the door by the mirrored wall opened, and the
man stepped into the room. He stood watching her for a few long minutes, then
walked sedately to one of the couches to sink into it comfortably. He was tall,
she noted, and completely bald. Older than herself, but still under forty, she
guessed. He removed his glasses to reveal dark, penetrating eyes in a sinfully
handsome face. The smile he angled her way made her heart skip a beat, and, at
the same time, trip over itself with fear. Long fingers smoothed over the
chiseled lines of his cursed face, while those aphotic eyes drank her in. She
was pulling her blanket tighter about her, gathering her feet under her to rise
should this man approach her, when he smiled, a toothy, dangerous smile, and
beckoned slowly to her.

“Come here, Revelle.”

Her mouth fell open. How did he know her name? Did she know this man from
some long ago time? His finger curled commandingly, and she felt drawn to obey,
but her mistrust made her linger once she stood, and she merely shook her head
and replied with a question.

“Who are, and what do you want with me?”

The man laughed, a rich, deep sound, but the mirth clearly did not reach
those dark eyes. He curled his finger to her once more, his voice silky and
dangerous.

“You shall have your answers in due time. For now, come here. If you make
me get up, I shall hurt you, and you will not like that. If you obey me, you
will not be hurt. Come here, Revelle.”

Her heart hammered in her breast, more terrified of this man than she’d
been of anything previously. He was like a deadly flower, beautiful to look at
and smell, but equipped with lethal thorns. She could sense that deadly quality
in him, the power underlying his words convinced her that he was telling a
simple truth. He would hurt her if she did not obey.

With trembling hands, she pushed herself upright, and shuffled a few feet
closer to him. He said nothing, that terrible smile now gone from his lips to be
replaced by a moody look, dark eyes hooded as he contemplated her. That finger
beckoned again, and she complied with a few more steps, until she was indeed
standing before him, but well out of arm’s length.

“Good girl.” He whispered, caressing her with his voice. “Now drop the
blanket. I shall help you pick out a garment to wear.”

She stammered at him, alarmed, hoping she hadn’t heard him right. Surely
he had to be joking. All of this was some elaborate hoax or play, and it would
end soon. Now, she hoped. In the moment she hesitated, the throb of her cheek
reminded her that it was real, and the flash of irritation in his eyes added the
needed weight. His hand twitched, and she flinched as if he’d yelled at her,
reluctantly releasing the blanket to allow it to puddle on the floor.

Her eyes scrunched closed, she started to fold her arms across her chest
until he ordered her to drop them, which she did. Moments passed in silence, and
when she dared to flinchingly open her eyes, he had not moved from his spot. His
gaze, however, roved almost hungrily over her flesh, and she felt a flush creep
along her skin where his heated eyes traveled. Finally, his eyes returned to
hers, and that slow grin returned.

“Lovely. Now turn around once, then go and get the black chemise hanging
on the very right.”

With a feeling of disembodiment, as if this was not happening to her, and
she was not just blithely obeying, she pivoted on her heel, then did as he said.
On a plastic hanger was just one of the bits of cloth found hanging in the
wardrobe, and this one seemed to consist of a sheer top with thin straps and
satin cups, a thin fringe of feathers along the bottom hem, with accompanying
panties and one garter. Revelle swallowed, humiliation creeping a blush along
her cheeks, and held the garment across the front of her as she turned back to
the man.

“Put it on, panties first, then the chemise. When you put the garter on,
you will put your foot here,” He patted the couch between his legs, continuing,
“so that I may see you. As you dress, I will answer some of your questions.”

Indignation was beginning to creep into her cheeks as well, and her
normally creamy skin was mottled and pink with embarrassment. Women were not
supposed to be treated like this! She resolved to kick him in the groin when she
went to put the garter on. Slowly, so that she could ask questions, she stepped
into the panties, barely more than string in some places, and some dark part of
her was twistedly satisfied to see the slight adjustment he made while she slid
her hands over her hips. Men were such simple creatures... but any thoughts of
manipulating him shot out the window as his eyes met hers again. There was
madness in them, as well as that same hungering look... and it frightened her.

“Okay... first... who are you and what do you plan to do with us?” She
dropped the chemise over her head, pulling it down to cover her breasts as
quickly as she could, but took her time moving it around to belay going any
nearer to him.

“By us, I suppose you are referring to the other girls who came with you
on the train? Surely you know by now. You will be sold into slavery, solely for
the use and entertainment of men. Wealthy men, who will pay me good money for
illegal twang. You may call me General.”

That title made her pause, fingers restless on the garter as she shot her
dark eyes to his.

“Yes, Mert mentioned me. He also mentioned you to me, little Revelle. He
would like to keep you for himself. Come and put the garter on now, you’ll look
quite delicious once it’s on.”

She stepped forward, bolder now that she had some defense from his eyes
with the meager covering of the scant clothing. Placing her foot between his
parted legs, her toes brushing him, he did not move in the slightest, even when
she picked up her foot to put the garter around her ankle, and nudged his thigh
with her foot. Suddenly, he darted forward from his casual backward lean, and
his hands folded like vice grips around hers, at her ankle. She gave a squeak of
surprise and tried to pull away, but he held her mercilessly.

“If you think to do me injury, pet, think again. Life will go much easier
for you if you do not test me. Resign yourself, Revelle. This is your life now.
And you’ll soon find that the quicker you conform and adopt your new life, the
better you will have it.”

His hands softened, and slid with hers to guide the garter slowly up her
leg as he spoke, his voice lowering to a sensual rumble, his touch growing
gentler, teasing, the further past her knee it climbed.

“You see... I like you, Revelle. I see beautiful women every day, almost
every waking moment. Not many catch my eye. You’re lucky you did, or you would
have already been tossed to Mert and his boys for the damage you’ve caused. Both
to one of the boys, and to yourself. Now, because of the state of your pretty
face you’re losing me money. None will want to buy you, as damaged goods, nor
can I rent you.”

She trembled, both from his words, and the position of his hands. As much
as she was willing herself to keep her head, something about the fear and the
pure animal allure of this man was messing with her. He was a cretin, a foul
creature, something to be despised and spat at when he ventured out from under
his rock... but all the same, she couldn’t abide the sexual tension that flowed
off of him in waves. It was as if he possessed some magnetism she couldn’t
avoid... and as much as she hated him at that moment, with his hand sliding
slowly up the inside of her thigh, all she could focus her mind on was the silky
quality to his voice, and the teasingly slow tickle of his thumb creeping closer
and closer to that heated core, that part of her which responded to him, whether
she liked it or not, and ached for him to touch her.

“You understand my position, of course. It means a loss in profit to me.
But like any business man whose goods are wasted, I have only one option left to
me. Do you know what that is?”

He whispered, voice honey and wine as it rumbled softly, his handsome face
angled up toward her own. His thumb brushed the crux of her legs, and her knees
trembled mightily. His other hand was warm, splayed on her her hip, and it took
her a moment to clear her head enough to realize that he wanted a reply. She
could do nothing more than shake her head, and he slid his thumb back to that
spot, eliciting a gasp and a buckled knee from her. In an instant he shot up
from the couch, dropping her leg as his arms moved around her waist, one of them
curling up into her hair to pull her head back. His lips grazed her throat, and
she felt her breathing come harshly through her windpipe. For all of herself,
she was ashamed and equally furious, back in her mind, for her obvious and so
simply made state of arousal when she should have been fighting for her life.

“I shall have to take what remains of the spoiled goods for myself.”

The hand not buried in her hair slid along her hip to press her against
him, clamping almost painfully, before caressing softly up her bare side, under
the chemise. She sighed softly, a tremulous and shaky thing, and he moved his
lips along her throat again, moving around to scrape his teeth lightly against
the side of her neck in a light bite. She trembled against him, and he laughed
softly, the rumble of it echoing through his chest in a manner that she felt
through her own. Straightening, he broke away from her sharply to cross the
room. Arms folded across his chest, he levered a gaze upon her.

Separated from him, the distance felt as cold as the metal from her cell,
she dropped her head, eyes hidden from him, and instantly her thoughts moved to
Jayne. She was his girl, no one but he excited her, and she wanted no other.
Why, then, was she allowing this man to seduce her into captivity so willingly?
Survival, she told herself. If she gained the upper hand in any way by this man
liking her, perhaps she could find Inara and Kaylee, and hopefully get out of
this hell. That’s what she told herself, that the man simply reminded her of
Jayne with his powerful build, but in her heart she knew it was untrue. It was
pure and unrelenting physical attraction and fascination that drew her to the
General, and nothing more.

“You wear the mark of a man on your neck, pet. Whoever he was, forget
him.”

Her jaw clenched tightly, then she looked up to find him still watching
her. Something in her expression seemed to satisfy him, and he nodded.

“Yes, good. Now come along. I’m sure you’re hungry, and you can get some
rest.”

He moved toward the door that he’d entered through, and somehow it swung
open for him before he even touched it. It revealed yet another long, door
filled corridor, with a guard waiting. The General slid a hand along Revelle’s
shoulder, to trail his fingers along her neck beneath her hair.

“Take her to my chambers. See that the others feed her.”

And with that, the door closed, and she was hustled off down the hall with
the new guard, who refused to answer any of her questions, save one.

“Why are you doing this?!” She cried at her recent escort, struggling to
pull her arm from his rough fingered grasp. He merely bared his uneven and
yellowed teeth at her in what she supposed was supposed to be a smile, until he
brought her to an abrupt halt before another featureless door. This he unlocked
with a long digital key to reveal a brief entryway with another locked door.
Some quick combination changed the same key in his hand, and he opened the
second door with it as well. His fingers tightened briefly around her arm, and
he hauled her inside, saying finally as he did so,

“Cuz the Boss pays me good to do it,” looking past her, he grunted and
made a final remark before stepping back out through the door. “General says to
feed her. Welcome to your new life, slut.”

Alarmed, the instant she was released Revelle pulled her arms around
herself, and turned, blinking in astonishment, to who the guard spoke to.
Splayed out before her in a large, well furnished room, were half a dozen nude
or nearly nude woman close to her own age, seemingly as comfortable as cats. And
all watched her arrival with the same wary, appraising eyes, sizing up their
newest companion.

In relative shock, she stood dumbly in place with arms crossed awkwardly
over her chest, gawking openly at the display before her. From the back corner
of the room a curtain was swept aside as a petite blond stepped through, clad in
nothing but the air around her freckled skin. She seemed to be a little older
than the rest, closer to thirty something, and had an air of authority about her
as she glared at a thin, olive skinned girl who swiftly moved away. The blond
laid her eyes on Revelle, studying her for a long moment before sashaying over
in a careless manner. She laid her hands on her hips and simply looked Revelle
over, an odd expression on her face, green eyes slightly sad.

“Spoiled goods, eh? Welcome to the harem. Our General is far too fond of
sweeping up the scraps for himself.” The woman paused, with a soft sigh and a
shake of her head, then turned her cheek to call over her shoulder in a barking
tone that begged to be disobeyed. “Circe, get off your round rump and get over
here. You’re gonna show this new one around. I’ve got better things to do.”

The olive skinned girl who’d scuttled out of the woman’s path rose from
further in the room and joined the pair, her round face expressionless until the
blond woman had turned away, where she then pulled a horrible face and added a
few rude hand gestures in her general direction, turning to mutter
conspiratorially to Revelle as she moved a little closer to her.

“Marya, stupid old whore. She’s the General’s oldest girl, and thinks that
she deserves a medal or something. We all know she was a prostitute when He
picked her up, but she pretends she was a Companion. Bah.”

Revelle watched the girl’s expressionful face, spite filled and malicious
in no little bit, with a sort of dazed wonder.

“I’m Circe, obviously. You’ll get to know the other girls with time. I’ll
show you around a bit. I dunno know long we’re gonna stay here, but all the
quarters are pretty much the same. Once you seen one, you seen em all, really.
Okay, out here’s the main room, where we can sit around and look nice,
basically. Over there is the bath, this one’s actually got a few big tubs and an
open shower. Back through that curtain is the larder, and past there is the
girl’s bedroom. That door there is the General’s room and bath, sorta a
miniature copy of these. That's the only place you ever get any privacy around
here, and that's only if He doesn’t take more than one, which rarely happens.
He’s got quite an appetite, our General.”

Circe paused for air, having spoken animatedly and seemingly without
stopping to take a breathe. When she mentioned the General, Revelle noticed that
her bitter expression changed slightly, as did those of the girls laying about
close enough to be pretending not to listen. She couldn’t quite put her finger
on what it was. It was only after Circe had introduced her to almost all the
girls, and they were laying down to nap (Revelle still hadn’t eaten, Circe had
forgotten that part and Revelle wasn’t going to make mention of it) upon the
communal bed that the “bedroom” subsisted of, that Circe paused long enough to
ask Revelle’s name. It was then, as the dark skinned girl repeated it back as if
it tasted foreign upon her tongue, that a chatter arose from the main room.
Circe bolted upright, with a breathless cry, and flung herself off the bed to
sidle out into the commotion, and Revelle recognized the expression she and most
of the other girls shared. Hunger. Longing. Desire for attention, needy for
anything the General would give them.

The sounds of the girls’ voices continued in the main room, and Revelle
was startled by a low, mournful chuckle from the corner. She’d not even noticed
the pretty black girl curled upon the floor, but when she looked her direction,
Revelle caught the glint of eyeshine, and knew the girl was crying silently to
herself. Throaty and voluptuous even in words, the black girl stated dryly, her
tone crisp,

“General’s here. They’re all vying for His attention, hoping He’ll choose
them to bed tonight, even though they all know He won’t. He always takes the new
girl the first few nights, however long it takes them to give in to Him. They
all give in and can’t help themselves eventually, melting like chocolate in the
sun whenever He’s around. You can’t resist Him. Don’t try to fight it.” A long
pause, and Revelle thought she was done and was opening her mouth to form a
question, when the black girl gave a great gasping sob, her tone suddenly
querulous and pleading.

“Please, Revelle. Don’t keep Him all to yourself. You don’t understand how
much we need Him... please!”

The girl broke off and buried her face in her hands, turning away to the
wall once more and leaving Revelle staring in abject horror. What did this man
do to these girls?! It was then that a many voiced complaint rose briefly in the
air from the main room, cutting off sharply. The silence was what made her look
around, the fine hairs on her nape rising in that age old instinctual knowledge
of being watched.

He stood in the doorway, muscled arms braced on either jamb to lean
slightly upon his hands, those penetrating eyes trained upon her. She felt her
heart leap to her mouth, and instantly the trembling renewed. She was terribly
frightened of this man, her fear mingled with a sick sort of fascination at how
he could be so inordinately cruel and at the same time so compelling to have all
the girls mewling at his feet. She could see them behind him, watching him
intently, desperate for a morsel of his attention.

The black girl’s pathetic beseechment still lingered quite fresh in
Revelle’s mind, even as her undying stubbornness made her push away the flush
that rose in her cheeks from such close scrutiny, and she tried to return his
gaze disinterestedly, passively flicking her glance over his face, but avoiding
those eyes, lest they snag her own. Feigning indifference, she turned away and
forced herself to lie back down as if he didn’t stand there.

She closed her eyes, hoping to make him think she was really going to
sleep, and didn’t give a shit either way if he stood there or not, but opened
them again after a few moments, willing herself not to look and see if he’d
gone. She flinched, instead, because he stood quite near her, having entered the
carpeted room silently. He cast his gaze almost coldly upon her, then stooped to
take the black girl’s hands and lift her from the floor. She curled into his
arms instantly, and they left the room together.

With her heart still pounding, half of her fiercely joyous that she
irritated him by not being as eager as his other floozies, the other half
mournful and self pitying, wishing she’d used the opportunity to find out what
his plans were with her, and what had become of her friends; Circe and several
of the other girls stomped into the room and flung themselves on the bed.

“That Myzani. She’s the only one who can cry and He’ll actually take with
Him. Never works with anyone else, the stupid cunt. We all thought He’d take
you. He always takes the new girls in the beginning...”

This last was echoed by a few of the girls with a tone of utmost
jealously, the sentiment harbored by one sandy-haired girl with long legs. She
flicked some of her choppy bangs from her eyes, then laid back on the bed,
folding her hands below her barely clad breasts. After a few seconds of silence,
she turned her head to look at Revelle, fixing her with an intent brown eye.

“What did you say to Him, anyway? He looked really pissed, and you’re
lucky He took ‘Zani. He’ll make that mark on your cheek look like nothing.”

Revelle said nothing, merely matching the girl’s gaze, then each of the
others in turn, before turning her back to them and curling her legs up. A heavy
pang of loneliness and homesickness struck her, borne by a quiet rage that
seethed below the surface. She was infinitely angry that she should have been
stolen away from the happiness she’d found onboard Serenity, and last night’s
encounter seemed so far away. Jayne, and the safety she’d found in his arms, had
been thieved away, and she feared that she’d never get it back. It was only the
first night, but she discovered hot, sorrowful tears coursing into her hairline
anyway, and made no attempt to hide her sobs from the others. She didn’t care
what they thought, anyhow.


Serenity was anything but. The elation over a successful job had deflated
in the instant the mysterious disappearances became known, and each remaining
member of Serenity’s roster was sick with guilt and worry, each imagining the
worst. Everyone but River and Book placed most of the blame on Simon, who’d been
so wrapped up in his sister that he’d failed to keep watch on the other three,
and Book gritted his teeth with self loathing that he’d been so distracted
himself. The three remaining had searched the market in a panic, rushed back to
the ship in hopes they’d gone on ahead, just in time to meet the returning crew
triumphant from a completed job and pockets full of money. They’d all gone back
to the market to search and question the vendors, all of whom claimed ignorance.
Local authorities had been alerted, and Mal had an appointment with them the
following morning.

They were all taking it badly, upset to the point that no one seemed to
pay much attention to just how affected Jayne seemed to be. His temper was on
overdrive, flying off the handle at anything and everything, lashing out
violently. In the market he’d almost beaten a man senseless when he’d acted
flippantly about their search. None slept well, if at all, that night, with the
exception of River, who was sedated. The atmosphere onboard was grey and heavy,
gritty with blame and unease. When time came to rendezvous with the local
authorities, Jayne was the first in the mule, reasoning with the captain how he
should go in case there was trouble. Mal waved it off as due course, and took
Zoë along as well.

All three were made to wait outside a fairly new, and expensively shiny
building in the center of the nearest town, jurisdiction over the market. Two
heavily armed gunmen were stationed on either side of the door, and after nearly
an hour of being made to wait, one of them finally allowed the trio entry. Led
to an office and asked to take a seat, they didn’t have to wait long for the
second door to open and a tall, well built man in his late thirties entered,
garbed in neat Alliance uniform. His strong white teeth gleamed in a broad smile
as he took a seat behind the desk, leaning across to introduce himself.
“Thank you for your patience, Captain Reynolds. I’m General Teague, how
may I assist you folks?”


“Well now, that’s quite alarming, isn’t it? I shall have to put my men on
it. I can’t say that I’ve seen or heard of them, myself. To be frank, we haven’t
had any young women go missing in as long as I’ve been stationed here. Is it
possible they might have jumped ship and booked passage with another?”

The general’s teeth gleamed again, charming a smile in return from Zoë.
Jayne and Mal both disliked the hard little glint to the man’s dark eyes, the
hooded lids and full lips of his features making him appear moody and just a
little too... pretty. He was hiding something, they were sure. Jayne suppressed
a grunt of disbelief at the man’s words, and earned that aphotic, analytical
glance for himself.

“What were their names, again? And descriptions, please. We’ll do our best
to try and find these girls, Captain. Would you mind telling me their
relationships to you folks? The youngest is ship’s the mechanic, correct? And
one a Companion! Really, now... I understand your desire to have them found.
What about the third? Just a passenger? Well, one would think you’d be glad to
have that one clear off... no? No insult intended, I’m sure. Yes, yes, we’ll see
what we can do.”

The General smiled congenially, and ushered them from his office. Once the
door was closed, he turned his back, shaking his smooth head to himself. A wide
smirk pulled at his lips, and he chuckled softly, tearing the report he’d just
transcribed into pieces. It seemed he should have a little chat with his newest
acquisition and see if they would be worth milking a ransom out of. The
Companion would probably be worth plenty on her own accord, which had been the
plan in the first place. She’d never seen his face, and had been treated well.
She could certainly afford to pay for her own freedom, as well as that of the
little mechanic. Revelle, however, he intended to keep for himself. She wasn’t
worth it to the crew of the Serenity, anyhow. He could tell that by the quirk of
the first mate’s lips.

With a dry quirk of his own lips, he dropped the pieces of paper into the
bin, then stepped for the door. He had another appointment to keep.


The night had passed so slowly. Time seemed to drift by in endless eons,
unable to truly tell if it was day or night, and feeling completely useless
didn’t help. She was used to keeping busy, but she’d be damned if she was going
to cook or do anything for any of these other girls. Myzani had returned in the
early hours when the General rose and left, while most of the girls were
sleeping.

Now she hid herself in one of the bath’s stalls, feet drawn up to avoid
notice by the others. Each time the voices rose in some squabble or another, her
heart would stutter in her chest, fearing that he had returned and wished to
deal with her now. It wasn’t until many hours had passed that the volume and
vibration reached a pitch that she was sure it was because of he. She found
herself holding her breath, fingers digging into her thighs, waiting. Long
minutes drifted by, and she was just beginning to relax when the door to the
baths banged open and a girl’s haughty voice called out,

“You, new girl. Revelle, yeah. General wants you.”

She jumped, tensing up, but remained silent. The girl gave an exasperated
sigh, and Revelle heard the door swing shut. A minute passed, each second ticked
off by the slam of her heart in her breast, and the voice came again, sounding
rushed and irritated at being made to deliver messages.

“Last chance, girl. He don’t wait patient for anyone.”

Silence was the only reply, and the girl gave a dry chuckle. Revelle
squeezed her eyes shut, trembling knees grasped tightly against herself. Seconds
later hurried footsteps crossed the room, and she didn’t pay heed to the fact
that they were not the flat slaps of bare feet. A moment later the door to her
stall crashed open, startling her so badly she lost her balanced stance and
nearly toppled, only to be caught by a hard fist in her hair. He ignored the
choked cry of pain and protest that burst from her throat, as well as the
instinctually scrabbling fingers that flew to his wrist in an attempt to pry his
hand loose. Hauling her mercilessly aloft, he forced her head back and loomed
dangerously over her to hiss in her face,

“This is your first and only warning, bitch. Don’t ever make me come and
get you again, or you’ll sorely regret...”

He broke off, swallowing whatever would have followed, for she lashed out
violently. Twisting, heedless of his painful grip on her hair, her nails raked
down his arm, then lashed out with crooked fingers at his face, meaning to dig
out his eyes. His other hand caught one of hers and twisted it savagely around
behind her, turning her in the process and slamming her, hard enough to force
the air from her lungs, against the wall of the bath.

The metal seemed to reverberate from the blow, and left her gasping like a
fish, both from lack of air and the white-hot flare of pain in her shoulder,
scalp, and knee which banged first against the wall. Tears sprung to her eyes,
and he ripped her head back to look into her eyes, his own narrowed and rage
filled. He drug her quickly back from the wall, spun her around, and shoved her
with all his strength in a brutal push toward the door, one from which she had
no hope of recovering quick enough to keep from falling. Bare knees and palms
skidded painfully on the tile, and she crashed on her side. He was behind her in
an instant, and she pushed the shock and pain back to scramble up, fearing that
he would kick her.

Girls scattered like startled birds from around the doorway, and she
finally found her feet and stumbled out ahead of him, terror-rimmed eyes wide
and teary, breathing shallow and quick from fear. Trying to stay ahead of him
proved useless, for he caught her again, this time with his long fingered hand
around the back of her neck, curling in viselike grip that directed her toward
the door to his quarters. Sobs choked back, her breathing ragged as she quaked
under his hand, shaken by the degree and swiftness of his anger, she moved where
he steered her, and heard the door close behind them as he pushed her through
into darkness.

His fingers released her and she felt him move away from her in the dark.
Her legs quivered terribly, and she feared that she’d collapse, or pass out. The
lights came on suddenly, and she found herself standing by the door of a neatly
furnished bedroom. A desk sat along the far wall, a huge bed opposite it, and a
door leading to a smaller bath just beside.

The General stood by the desk, fingers working through the tie that
completed his Alliance uniform. He didn’t look at her, seemingly focused on the
task at hand and oblivious of the state of the girl by the door. Her chemise had
ripped, one shoulder strap had torn off when she’d fallen, and nothing but her
folded arms kept it upright. The garter was around her knee. He began
unbuttoning his dress shirt, gaze directed to the papers atop his desk until he
completed parting the fabric. He looked back toward her as he flexed his
powerful shoulders and dropped the shirt back from them to expose a muscled and
well toned chest and abdomen.

Even as much as she loathed the sight of him, she couldn’t deny his
beauty. Those smooth muscles had just contributed to the worst roughing up she’d
ever experienced, but still she couldn’t keep herself from noting and admiring
how beautiful he was.

A drop of fear shot coldly through her belly as he approached her, and the
flinch that shook her frame as he parted his arms was purely involuntary. It
still didn’t stop him from looking wounded for a moment, before he curled his
arms tenderly around her, folding her taut and trembling frame against his warm,
firm bulk. The hands that had been hard as stone moments earlier now slid ever
so gently along her skin, bundling her up against him as he lowered his mouth to
inches from her ear to croon in a velvet whisper,

“Don’t be scared, pet. You made me have to do that, you understand that,
don’t you? Just listen to me, and I’ll never have to hurt you again. Come with
me, I have a surprise for you.”

Numbly, for all the throbbing complaints of various parts of her body, her
mind seemed foggy and slow to understand. She looked at his muscled forearm
curled around her, dumbly for a moment, then allowed him to lead her across the
room into the bath. The light was off, but a sunken tub big enough to seat four
was filled to the brim with bubbly water, and two candles flickered eagerly from
the counter above. She blinked, confused, but moved where his arm guided her to
the edge.

In the back of her mind, she was reeling... but for the most part she was
finding silent compliance easier than she’d thought. It was amazingly effortless
to allow him to pull the ripped chemise from over her head and guide her into
the pleasantly warm water in just her panties and garter. She sank obediently
down into the suds, up to her neck. Closing her eyes she could almost imagine
that she was elsewhere, or that her companion was another, at least.

A splash made her open her eyes again, and they widened suddenly as she
realized he was getting in with her. He somehow anticipated her urge to bolt,
and caught her knee under the water with both his hands. They moved soothingly,
although his gaze never left her face, studying her. She returned it for a few
minutes, growing more and more uneasy the longer she did, as he slid the soaked
garter from her leg. As his fingers slid up the outer sides of her thighs to her
hips, pulling her ever closer to him, she closed her eyes again, unable to
maintain the contact.

His wide hands moved fluidly over her hipbones, trailing his palms over
her skin in a manner that she tried to block from her mind. Trying to think of
anything else but the physical contact as he hooked the panties and slid them
down her legs under the water. Another splash, and she twitched mightily as he
brushed a thumb along her cheek. He eyes fluttered open, denial and sorrow
meeting his hard, dark eyes. She found unrelenting possessiveness and desire in
his, and she knew he would take what he wanted from her, and the more she denied
or fought him, the harder he would try.

Torn, then, by that revelation of meek acquiescence or futile struggling,
she resisted for a moment as he tried to pull her toward him, unsure of what he
intended. His mouth firmed, her eyes fixed upon it, and he drug her off her side
of the tub. It took her a moment to realize he meant to turn her around, away
from him. She was grateful for that, so that she didn’t have to look at him.

His hands slid sensuously along her thighs, the outer of each resting
alongside the inner of his. Her heart pounded furiously in her breast, extremely
aware of the hard heat of him pressed to her ass and small of her back. One of
his hands left the water to move up her arm, along her shoulder to tilt her head
to the side and brush her hair from her nape. All of this was distracted from by
the slow creep of his other hand, which was easing ever so slowly over her
belly. He stroked intricate patterns with his fingertips, intently aware of the
response of her body, each shiver and tremble felt through his.

She hated herself.

Loathing herself for the soft but sudden intakes of air she kept taking as
his hand crept in excruciatingly teasing circles around her breasts, despising
herself for the heat that flared in her loins, the ache that began to throb and
made her body arch slightly with need. As his fingertips neared her aching
breast, and she mewled softly with need, she made a pact with herself. She would
retreat into her mind, allow her traitorous body what it wanted, and tell her
brain that it was Jayne eliciting this heat from her.

Jayne, it was Jayne. Jayne’s calloused but tender hand teasing her,
Jayne’s hot breath preceding suckling lips moving deliciously along the side and
back of her neck to send chills down her spine and hardening her nipples.
Jayne’s hand which finally found first one, then both, with the addition of his
other hand, and drew his teeth slowly along her flesh in tandem with a
simultaneous roll of that tender flesh.

Curling back into that dark place of her mind, she left her body to fend
for itself in a stranger’s hands, and was ashamed at how well it responded to
his artful touch. He was man who knew exactly how to work the wanton wench free
from a woman’s soul, and he performed the operation with such deft experience
that it left her reeling in the aftermath, her gasping mind trudging and
reluctant to keep up with the heady heights he sent her to. Dimly, she watched
herself melt in his hands, succumb to multiple dizzying orgasms before finally
being turned around and set to face him while he thrust within her until he
reached completion.

He held her weak, ragdoll’s body against him, a thin smirk of triumph on
his sensual mouth, and listened to the soft cadences of her uneven breathing.
He’d fucked her alright, this dark haired jewel, and fucked her well, he crowed
to himself. She’d not been the hardest to break, but the challenge had excited
him. He had no doubts that she’d put up no further fight. His fingers were
stroking along her trembling back, when realization dawned that she wasn’t
gasping for air because he’d fucked it out of her. She was crying. He pulled her
roughly back from his chest and saw in an instant that her face was closed, her
eyes dim and dark... and he knew he’d had nothing but a shell... the responses
nothing but animal automation from instincts.

He growled, fisted a hand at the back of her head as he held her away from
him, and shook her violently. He wanted a fight from her, wanted some spark to
smash out. Almost comically she jerked and flopped in his hand, too weak to
resist his strength, and a droplet of her tears flew to land upon his lower lip.
Tasting that salty sign of defeat upon his tongue, he grimaced and tightened his
hand in her hair, half considering pushing her under the water and simply
holding her there until she did fight - or stopped fighting altogether. The
thought brought a menacing smile to his lips, and he stopped shaking her to
bring her face against his, as he snarled in her ear.

“I’m not done with you yet.... pet! You will give me what I want,
eventually.”

She trembled, breath rasping through her taut windpipe, scalp stinging in
complaint of his hard fingers snared in her hair, and he pulled her back to look
down into her face. His handsome features held a contemptable sneer, hooded eyes
gazing down at her in an almost sultry fashion. She was beginning to garner a
better idea as to why the horde of females in the other room acted like they did
around him. He was darkly alluring, so powerful that he throbbed with a tidal,
saturnine pull like the draw of the moon to lesser beasts. Her half-shuttered
lids couldn’t protect her gaze from his, the darkness in his eyes filling her
with a smoky sort of haze, shrouding her mind from the danger he truly
possessed.

He chuckled softly, a low, magnetic sound that thrummed through her limbs,
and traced a light palm down her throat to curl his fingers around it, releasing
her hair with his other hand. She blinked sleepily, both terribly exhausted and
internally uneasy below the sodden weight of her clouded mind. His fingers
tightened slightly, pressing on her windpipe with a broad thumb. She did
nothing, caught in the obscurity of his gaze, trapped and pinned to await the
arrival of the spider. His sullen lips pulled into a tight smile as he observed
the tightening of his net.

“However, your mind cannot comprehend yet what exactly it is that I wish
from you. Shall I enlighten you?”

His grip squeezed a little firmer, and he saw the flicker of fear rekindle
in those dark, hazy eyes.

“Fear is good... a decent start. You should fear me. And hate me, for I
will force you to see the world through new eyes. There will be pain in your
future, pet, for pain in the only way to reach your path. Yet as you grow, the
pain will grow as well, and become not what it was. You will embrace it, and
embrace me. Your journey begins now. Your life before this moment is no longer.
The sooner you accept that and allow me in, the easier your road will be. Mind,
the road can be extremely difficult. Some don’t survive.”

He paused in this cryptic little diatribe to accent his words with a final
hard closing of his fist around her throat, completely shutting off her air
supply. He gave her the barest moment to widen her eyes and scrabble at his
fingers in panic, then plunged her backward under the sudsy surface of the
water. Her previously limp and supple body now flailed and writhed. His flaccid
length had, up until this point, remained inside of her, but slipped out at the
first wild buck of her hips. His teeth skinned back in a manical grin, tendons
and cords bulging in his neck and shoulders as he restrained her thrashing body
under the water.

When he lifted her, she choked and sobbed for air, gasping desperately as
her eyes rolled wide and wild in her head like a crazed animal’s. She was raking
her hooked fingers rather futilely against the thick wrist that held her throat,
and he chuckled again.

“You should stop that, pet. You’re getting me excited again.”


Inara held her chin high as she walked down the metal steps, two armed men
behind her ushering her into the skiff rumbling as it hovered next to the
platform. She swept a quick glance around the interior, then spun around to face
the two escorts.

“Where are the others? I paid for their release as well.” The two men
shared noncommittal looks but said nothing. Inara looked between them, her
tautly composed face containing the measure of her distress. “Excuse me! Did you
two fail to comprehend what I said? Answer me now!” She demanded, sternly. A
third man suddenly pushed through the two standing between she and the door,
shoving a bedraggled and barely clad Kaylee into the skiff before him. The girl
stumbled and clung to Inara, who staggered back under her weight.

“Kaylee! Are you alright, sweetie?” Inara crooned softly, smoothing
Kaylee’s hair back from her smudged, tear-streaked face.

“Yes, I-”

“Sorry to break up this little reunion, but you two have a trip to catch.”

The third man, evidently more in charge than the first two, waved his men back
and hauled on the door.

“Wait! Where’s Revelle?! I paid...!” Inara cried, taking a step toward the
exit, as the car of the skiff rocked as if in anticipation to be off.
The man paused with the door halfway slid on its track and grunted, “Yeah,
been a change in plans. That one’s not for sale. Thanks for the tip, though!”
And tugged the door closed on the pair of them in mid-complaint.


“Cap’n, we’ve got incoming transmission...” Wash spoke up suddenly,
bringing Mal rocking forward, hands on either side of the display to peer into
it.

“Location coordinates.” He announced, then looked over at Wash.

“I’m on it. Looks like the transmitter is coded, blocked out. I can’t tell
who’s sending em. The spot is along a rail-line, out in the middle of the scrub.
Do you think it could be them?”

“No use sitting here wondering about it, Wash. Hit it.”


The car was sitting dead on the tracks, hover disengaged on its own, with
the two young women huddled inside watching anxiously out the grimy windows as
Serenity settled down in a swirl of dust. A tearful, joyous reunion ensued. Mal
encircled Inara, Simon fussed over Kaylee, as Wash, Zoe, Book and River partook
in the proceedings as well. One lone form broke away from the pack, staggering
to the empty skiff and yanking the door open.

“Where is she?!” Jayne croaked hoarsely, then repeated louder, “Where’s
Revelle?!”

Inara turned to look at him, the dispair and fear written cleanly on his
face for all to see, and her own mask of composure crumbled. She sagged in Mal’s
arms, tears springing from her eyes as she choked out,

“She’s... I tried... they kept her...”

“What? Who? Where at?” A barrage of questions enveloped the captured pair,
eventually moving inside the ship to treat bruises and soothe with food while
the story was told, as much of it that both could recall, at least. Jayne
stalked back and forth around the group during all the talking, figity,
impatient and angry. Why could he never keep anything nice? It always got
sullied, or taken away from him, oe he found it was never really his to begin
with. Wash had Zoe. Simon had Kaylee, and his sister Mal had Inara, and even
Book had his God. Jayne had finally found something similar in the quiet, dark
haired Revelle, and now she’d been snatched away from him.

He wasn’t half so much straight up pissed off as he was genuinely scared
for her, and that was a sensation altogether new to him, so he attributed it to
anger. It built in him, the rage swelling until it felt his head would burst
with it. He had to do something! She could be hurt, tortured or even dead by
now, while the rest of ‘em sat around cryin’ about what they were gonna do. He
had the itch to simply do somethin’, and it was gettin’ pretty hard to not
scratch. He’d just about made up his mind to take the other shuttle and tear off
in search of her when the Cap’n intersected him.

“Jayne. I reckon we’re all upset about what’s happened, but what I can’t
seem to wrap my head around is the measure of anger with which you are taking
this. Is there anything you’d care to enlighten me on?” Mal asked, inserting
himself carefully between the pacing, uneasy fury Jayne seemed to barely
restrain as he shuffled restlessly to and fro upon the catwalk, his pale blue
eyes darting everywhere but Mal. The Captain gave him time to respond,
tolerating over a minute of Jayne’s fidgiting before prodding again, gently.

“Jayne...?”

Suddenly Mal didn’t need Jayne’s red-faced bluster to garner a reply. It
clicked, an instant before Jayne all but shouted into his face.

“Gorramit, Mal! What if she’s hurt?! I gotta find her! I told her I’d keep
her safe!”