Disclaimer: all things Firefly/Serenity are the property Whedon et al. I'm not making any money off this, just playing with the toys.
A/N: there are some graphic scenes and not pretty language. You've been warned.

Chapter Four

The building looked to need a new coat of paint and pretty much everything new. Windows were cracked, the veranda was tilted with nails popping out and the door squeaked far more than was necessary. In all, the place was a dump.

It was with past-remembrance eyes that Jayne was able to ignore the disrepair and bound up the three steps, push open the door and smile with ferocity. He almost felt like he was home, here in the whorehouse and lookin’ for the woman of his dreams. Dirty little dreams.

“Jeanine!” he called, casting a glance into the parlour to right. “Hey, you gals seen Jeanine?”

A pretty brunette shook her head and Jayne looked left into the music room. Empty. Frowning, he headed to the kitchen in the back and grinned again. “Hey now darlin’,” he said.

“Jayne Cobb,” Jeanine said slowly, “I’ve not seen hide nor hair of you for almost a year.” She set her hands to her hips and raised a fine eyebrow.

“Reckon it’s more than time then.” He stood above her and nipped at her ear. “Waved ya I was comin’, so ya ready?”

Unwilling to withstand the charms of the man she helped build, Jeanine grabbed his hands and pulled him to the back stairs. “You have the front, Clara,” she called to the other pretty brunette. “I’m going to be occupied for...” She looked to Jayne and saw the glint. “A very long time.”

Jayne was now pulling her up the staircase and to the oft-used room. Taking the time to re-acquaint themselves, he learned a couple of new tricks and grinned his pleasure. “Ain’t never been a time when ya don’t fail t’surprise a man, Jeannie.” He caressed her side, the curve of her waist as soft as ever.

“A woman’s got to take pride in her work,” she replied, her own hands finding something to fondle. “Need to keep learning if you’re to do it properly.” She removed his belt, looped her fingers and tugged his pants off. He sat her on the bed and stood close. His eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets with the moves she was providing and was thanking every deity he could dream of for her pride of work.

“Ai ya!” he was barely able to spit. “Woman, yer a wonder.” He gripped her head then shoulders and pushed her onto her back, his own fingers looping her camisole off and exposing her breasts. He dug in.

And was promptly interrupted by a loud and continuous banging on the wood door. “Miss Jeanine! Miss Jeanine!”

She rolled her eyes and huffed loudly. No interruptions, she kept telling the girls. No one was to be disturbed during her work. Rule number two. She smirked. Rule number one had gone out the window after Jayne’s second visit.

“Miss Jeanine!” The rise at the end was terrifying. The girl was scared out of her mind. Something was seriously wrong.

Pushing Jayne off, she went to the door, not bothering to cover herself. “Rose, this had better be damned important or you’re going to be one sorry-” She stopped in mid-tirade at seeing the tear and mascara run face before her. “What is it?” Her voice now serious.

“They’s coming, Miss Jeanine! They’s gonna be here. Whadda we gonna do?” The girl was shaking.

“Who, Rose? Who’s got you so agitated?”

Jayne sat on the bed with his arms crossed, right fingers tapping on his left bicep and eyed the girl through slits. He needed sexin’ now and this girl was interferrin’.

Rose jumped at the deep boom, a yell escaping her. She fell into Jeanine’s arms. “We’re gonna die. Oh God!” She sobbed and shook. Jeanine looked to the crying mess with a strange curiosity and a little frustration. Her girls were supposed to be stronger than this. She had no more thought the comment when hall doors opened and another young woman finished climbing the stairs.

“Miss Jeanine, we have to get to the basement,” Clara called. “Reavers are coming.” Her eyes were terrified, but her resolve showed in her body language. People were now rushing into the hall and making dashes to perceived safety. “Hurry.”

“Ain’t no such thing,” Jayne called from the bed, irritation in his voice. “Only stories t’scare youngun’s too dumb t’know the bogeyman ain’t real.”

“Rose, come on, honey, get it together.” Jeanine held the woman in front by the arms. “Be strong, girl. Go with Clara to the basement. We’ll be along. You do that, hear?”

When the girl only quivered, Jeanine gave her a small shake. “Rose! You hear?” The woman swallowed, but nodded. “Now go!” She turned and pushed the woman to Clara and watched them leave the hallway. “Jayne, you got any guns with you?”

“Helluva stupid question.” Another boom sounded and bits of dust fell from the ceiling. He looked up wonderin’ what was happenin’ then reckoned he oughta get clothed.

“Best get them, love.” She now had her camisole on and was wrapping a shawl around as well. Opening the hidden drawer under the bed, she withdrew a substantial looking eight-shooter and a sawed off shotgun.

“You plannin’ on doin’ some killin’?” he asked as they went downstairs, a smile forming. Been a while since he’d done his own.

“Hope not, not any men leastways.” She grabbed some spare bullets while another boom shook the whole house like an earthquake.

He saw Jeanine’s hand begin to shake. “Easy, woman. I’ll protect ya. No cause-”

The scream made even Jayne jump. He whipped his head to the kitchen window to find out where it was coming from and saw the most disgusting creature in his entire life lift its head with blood dripping from its lips. The thing went for more and another scream came.

The door was blown open to the whorehouse and two creatures barged in, spying Jayne and Jeanine in the kitchen. They hobbled over at surprising speed, mouths spewing guttural grunts. Two blasts from the shotgun slowed them and Jayne’s firing into their skulls ended them. Without further thought, both dashed into the basement and locked the steel door, a door Jayne noted was new and not squeaky.

Finding his way down in the dark basement, Jayne could hear the quiet crying and panted breaths of maybe a dozen people. Jeanine guided him to the corner and whispered, “Save two bullets, Jayne. One for me and one for yourself they come through that door.” He heard the fear in her voice and felt it from the others.

“What the hell’re those things?”

“Reavers. Now keep quiet.”

The pounding and screeching continued for what felt like days. When it finally stopped, the group remained silent, cautious that it was a trick and the Reavers would be outside to grab them. Two hours after the silence began, Jeanine rose and went to the door. She listened intently, but heard nothing. She pulled her pistol and heard Jayne come up behind her. She unlocked the door and he opened it.

The Reavers were gone. Their remnants remained and nearly sickened Jayne. He just couldn’t understand how it had happened, much less why. Bodies were everywhere in the town, pieces all over. He knelt at one, the smell overwhelming him. Skin was gone, organs were gone and clothing was torn to shreds. Ta ma duh, were those teeth marks?

“You ought to go now, Jayne,” Jeanine’s quiet voice broke in. He stood and saw her proffered hand with money. “Didn’t fulfill my end of the deal,” she said simply.

He stared down at her. “I don’t get it.” He went for the money.

“There’s nothing to get,” she answered. “Just take-”

A wild scream broke their conversation and both looked left at a man shrieking and writhing. One of Jeanine’s girls had gone to him and at her touch, he let loose. He kicked her knee out and was about to lunge when Jayne shot him in the chest. It slowed the man-thing, but now he turned to Jayne. The thing was quick and was on top of Jayne in a flash, blood oozing and spittle dropping onto Jayne’s face. He could smell the foul breath and felt the thing’s hands clamp around his neck. It cried and screeched and showed teeth filed into points. Skin torn across his cheek exposed the bone and was held together with only a thick metal pin.

The yelling went on, savage and wild, until it fell on top of Jayne and was still. Scrambling, Jayne kicked it off him and backed away on hands and feet, his heart pounding in his ears. He looked up to see Jeanine holding her shotgun. He looked back to the creature, his eyes still wide.

Jayne Cobb had seen plenty of hard things in his life, experienced a beating or four and knew what death looked like. But this was new. New sight, new sounds, new smells and new emotions.

Never in his life had Jayne been bone deep afraid.

Later... “Have you ever been afraid?”

The memory jolted River awake from her light sleep in the co-pilot’s chair, a memory that she knew was Jayne’s. He was dreaming again and it wasn’t pleasant. His recollection of what had been done to him had resulted in terrible dreams and little sleep for either.

Finding comfort at the controls of Serenity, River had opted for the bridge to spend her nights. She could block out Jayne by focussing on cortex calls, encyclopaedic readings and just listening to the ship. Tonight, she had dozed, let her guard down, and felt the explosion of Jayne’s nightmare.

“Shh,” she soothed, caressing the controls. “Sleep now and let your mind be still.” Feeling Jayne recede back into a void, River closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. “Know you hurt. Won’t last. Nothing does.” Her whispers were soft and clear.

“River?”

She slowly opened her eyes to see Zoe standing next to her. She smiled.

“Was someone else up here?”

River shook her head. “Not someone.” She rose lithely and faced the first mate. “You understand. War. Pain.”

Zoe nodded. “More than most, I suppose.”

“Jayne’s a soldier now, like you.”

“No,” Zoe shook her head, “he’s a survivor. Not quite the same thing.”

River tilted her head as though listening to a conversation that only she could hear. “She doesn’t see a difference. Both call out in the middle of the night. Both remember suffering.”

Zoe straightened. “I chose to be a soldier and all the bad that came with it. Jayne didn’t.” Neither did Wash.

The way River stared at Zoe made the older woman wonder on the girl’s thoughts. “Chose to be fighters. Ship’s yours,” she suddenly said. “Take good care of my girl.” River darted down the steps, momentarily pausing at Jayne’s bunk. She felt the metal door. Jayne was once again in his bunk, but wasn’t home.

For probably the fifth time, Kaylee rolled her eyes at the Captain. “I’m fine, Cap’n, really. Simon said so.”

Mal’s brow furrowed as he sat across from his mechanic, the light casting awkward shadows. It had been three days since the incident with Jayne and he was unconvinced that li’l Kaylee was as good as she appeared. Girl had a habit of covering up her sadness with chipper. “Still, knock like that’s bound t’get ya mite startled. Just makin’ sure.”

“It’s not that bad, Captain,” Simon interjected. “It didn’t even require stitches.”

“See?” Kaylee pointed at Simon.

“Alright, mei-mei.” He slopped some porridge like substance into his bowl and nearly dropped it when River’s hand touched his shoulder. He shut his eyes, gritted his jaw and took a very deep breath. “Warnings, girl. Gotta warn when yer sneakin’ like that.”

River only smiled and grabbed a bowl for herself then sat opposite Simon. She smelled the breakfast then made a face. “First mate is not a cook.”

“Reckon she ain’t, but we don’t have many options at the moment.” Mal took his own bite and swallowed with difficulty. Bit dry. “Aim to be at Regina day after tomorrow, drop the shipment then take some time.”

“Thirty-two hours, fourteen minutes,” River said, looking curiously at her food. “Excluding any birthdays.” She lifted her spoon and examined the grey mass threatening to fall from it.

“Right, day after tomorrow,” Mal repeated. “Make sure whatever needs doing gets done.” He looked pointedly to his mechanic. “We get paid, you see what Serenity needs.”

Kaylee grinned then reached a hand to her lip, still tender. “Shiny, Cap’n.”

Mal shook his head, but said nothing more on his injured friend. Sighing, he took his dish to the washer then strode to the cargo hold. He tapped the crates and smiled a little. Half-way legal transport was always welcome and this had been the easiest they’d had for some time.

Shame he couldn’ta used his merc t’haul the cargo in and out. But then, wasn’t sure he wanted to. Bound and guarded, Jayne had come around from Kaylee’s anaesthetic and pitched a fit until Simon had doped him. After waking from that, the big man just lay there, barely moving, barely breathing. Mal’s hand hovered near his gun when Zoe removed the bonds, but other than rub his wrists, Jayne didn’t move. Didn’t stop Mal from locking the door, though.

When River gave the clear, in her own way, that he wasn’t a threat did Mal let him out. Jayne ambled to his bunk and hadn’t been out since. Probably for the best seein’ as Mal wasn’t anxious to have a repeat performance. Let the man sulk, pine, wallow or whatever for a spell then come up for air like he always did. This was Jayne, after all. Weren’t in him to just sit and mope. ‘Course, didn’t seem right for him to be alone that long, but neither was him going fong-luh.

Happens again, the merc’d be dumped for sure, promise of a job or not. Made that fact indisputable to the man.

Stepping over to the weight bench, he pulled off his suspenders and shirt and began his new regiment. He finally understood the appeal of the thing, what had drawn Jayne to it, even Book to some degree.

It was simple.

The gorram thing was the simplest thing in the world to do, just lift up and down. Didn’t require much thought, plus for Jayne, and got a body into a rhythm and reality all its own. No surprises, no demands. Just lift. Let the mind be free for a spell. Sorta spiritual, in a way, if Mal were t’start thinkin’ in such a way.

Before... When the story had been told to Zoe, in all its incarnations, she had been ready to kill the piece of go se. She’d never feared the man; Jayne did nothing to intimidate her and she only marginally respected him. She knew him to be fond of women and would under no circumstances do any harm to them by choice.

So when she saw Kaylee sitting in the engine room, her lip purple and swollen, she felt an anger rise into her that she’d felt only once before. No matter how much Jayne had done for the crew, no matter how much she had started thinking of him as family, he was going to feel her wrath for hurting Kaylee.

“No, Zoe,” the mechanic had asked. “Don’t do nothin’.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “You want to give me a good reason not to?”

“Weren’t him.”

Zoe’s expression did not change.

“I mean, it was Jayne, but it weren’t him at that time.” Kaylee slumped into her hammock. “Somethin’ happened to him and he remembered what they done.” She looked up. “Before you rescued him.”

Zoe remained in her spot, willing to hear the younger woman out.

“He was hurtin’ an’ sometimes people do things they wouldn’t normally.” She began to swing lightly. “Still hurtin’, I figure, seein’ as he ain’t come out yet. I think he’s punishin’ himself more’n you or I could.”

“It wasn’t right.”

Kaylee nodded. “That’s the truth, but it were understandable. Besides,” she tried to grin around her sensitive lip, “held my own against him.” Pride swelled from her heart. She had fought against an attacker and won. No more vulnerable little girls here.

“That you did.” Zoe folded her arms across her chest and thought on Kaylee’s words and to her own before agreeing to the rescue. The man was a bastard, no doubt, but he was their bastard. They’d gone more than out of their way to rescue him, something she had not been reluctant to do. She wasn’t about to waste that effort by killing him now. Still, she couldn’t let Jayne think that he’d gotten away with something, no matter how much pleading Kaylee gave.

The first mate even smiled. Kaylee had done good in using the sedative on Jayne. Showed clear thinking during stress. Maybe the woman’s thinking was still clear.

The boots landed first with a heavy thud then barefeet followed down the ladder. River moved from the entrance and smiled before pulling on the boots. That done, she strode amongst the mess to Jayne’s bed and sat, mindful of the knife.

Jayne stared at her and she stared back. How many times had he told her to keep outta his head and now he was beggin’ her to. Just open it up, reach around and yank out the bad so he wouldn’t have t’remember what he did. Please, girl, just do this one thing and give me a speck a peace.

She narrowed her eyes and lightly shook her head. “Can’t do that. Cheating.”

Jayne lowered his eyes, the right one half-way. He swallowed hard and thought about the image gapin’ back at him when he’d torn the bandage off. The merc had always known that he was appealin’ t’women, not just with his muscled arms an’ chest, but his face some, too. Women’d run their fingers across his cheeks and mouth, saying things like “swai” and “ruggedly handsome”. Even Jeanine when she thought he were sleepin’.

Things were different now. Body’d gone t’mush and the red line ‘cross his face made him all manner a ugly now. Weren’t Jayne no more.

“Not true,” River shook her head. “You’re still there. Inside.” She eyed his scarred chest and he lifted his chin. “Crude and mean. Disgusting jokes and horny. Protective of family.” Her eyes grew big. “Loved your mother.” She grinned and looked him in the eye. “Two times three.”

Jayne looked away, his mouth twitching.

River frowned and moved closer, nearer. “Two times three.” She grabbed his hand and guided it to his chest, laying it flat. Feeling his heart, the heat from his body, he blinked. What the gorram hell was she tryin’ t’prove.

The girl rolled her eyes and laughed. “See? You’re still there. Alive.” Her eyes focussed with complete clarity. “Two times three.”

Later.. Everyone was grateful for the landing at Regina. Core enough to have some nice things to gaze upon and rim enough to be able to blend amongst the criminals.

Strangely, the meeting with the Juarez contact went very well. Cargo was removed and coin changed hands. Mal actually smiled and gave the crew twenty-four hours of free time to spend as they pleased.

“Even you, Cap’n?” Kaylee asked as they stood on the ramp, the afternoon sun refreshing on their skins.

“Ah, now, don’t go frettin’ on me, li’l Kaylee,” he answered. “Go have yerself some fun.” On cue, Simon strode down the ramp and paused at Kaylee.

“Would you mind...perhaps we could have lunch...together?

“What about River?”

“Girl’s fine,” River answered from behind. She tugged on the mechanic’s arm. “Come on. Time for real food.”

With a smile to rival the sun, Kaylee followed her friend with Simon in tow, a smile on his own lips. Felt good to Mal having his crew back to near on normal, good enough that he might even partake in some libations.

“Zoe,” he called on the intercom, “interested in relivin’ some fine tales and finer memories?”

The pause made the Captain hesitate, but when she replied yes, he half grinned. Good day, he thought waiting on Zoe. Place was warm enough and he’d had some money in his pocket. Ship wasn’t fallin’ outta the sky and he managed to get his first mate out on the town some. Yep, good day.

He was about to turn at the sound of shuffled clomping and rubber-tipped crutch hitting the grating when he heard Zoe’s familiar footsteps and the clomp stopped. He ventured a looksy when there was creepifying silence and saw Zoe staring Jayne down, hard.

She had her soldier stance on, the one that every normal person knew not to fuck with. Hands on hips near her gun, feet shoulder width apart for quick kicking and an eye that could have melted steel into slag. She’d hurt you painfully slow if anything was tried. Even Mal took a step back.

Jayne knew the body language; he’d seen it plenty a times. Needin’ drinkin’ somethin’ bad, he was anxious to get out from under that glare, but she kept it up. When he finally acknowledged her, the message was immediate.

“You hurt her.” It wasn’t a statement. Try, just try it again, and you’ll be walking with the stars.

With a final narrowing of the eyes, Zoe heel-turned and smiled at the Captain. “Don’t know about you, but I could use a drink about now.” With confident strides, she walked down the ramp and into the smallish bustling of the crowd.

Mal eyed Jayne and flinched at the slice across his mercenary’s face. He knew it was there, had been hiding under the bandage, but wo de mah! He tried to cover his reaction when the big man caught him, but it had been enough. Forcing his collar higher and pulling his hat lower, the clomping resumed, moving far faster than Mal would have thought possible with the crutch.

He found the darkest, dankest bar in the God-forsaken town and went to the table in the corner, out of sight, out of light. The barkeep asked what he wanted and Jayne motioned to a trio of men at the table nearest the bar. A minute later, a coolish pint of beer was sloshed on the table. Jayne looked up when the barman hadn’t left and bared his teeth a little. He sneered when the man cringed and scurried back to the safety of the bar, without getting paid.

As Jayne gulped the beer, he surveyed the room. Nothin’ special, nothin’ beyond ordinary. Just like most two-bit holes he’d spent much of his life hidin’ out in. It stank and he would have wrinkled his nose ‘cept that his own odour had dulled that sense some.

He finished his drink and slammed it on the table and indicated another. Today, Jayne Cobb was going to get not just piss drink, he was gonna drink himself into a mindless stupor and hope that he killed enough brain cells t’make him forget.

God dammit, he needed t’forget the fear in their eyes as he clawed and attacked. The sound of his smack across soft skin, breakin’ a lip, made him shake and he washed the memory down with another swig of the freshly arrived brew.

“I only asked for one simple thing and your captain couldn’t see fit to give it to me.” The Ugly Man shook his head with a tisk. “Do you suppose he’ll give it to me if I break you?”

Little rivers of golden liquid spread across and off the table. Jayne hadn’t feel the glass cut into his hand as he smashed the half-filled container onto the table. Just another cut, just another rip and bit a blood. Nothin’ to it no more.

“You don’t know how awful this is for me. If you would just stop fighting it, you would feel so much better.” He took a drink then flicked a knife out and began toying with it, the harsh light glinting and blinding. “He’s not worth it, you understand. Your captain is no hero.”

He looked up through swollen eyes. “Is,” he rasped.

Ugly Man shook his head. “Would heroes let men like you exist? I know who you are, Jayne Cobb, and you are a very bad man.”

Some didn’t think so. Mattie. Ma. Kaylee.

Kaylee?

He spit towards the Ugly Man, but missed. “Not very nice, Jayne. Behaviour like that gets punished.”

Jayne wondered why he tasted blood then felt the throb of his tongue he’d bitten through.

“Oh, uh, here.” The barman was there, wiping the table and producing another pint. “Weak glass, musta been. Heh-heh.” He quickly left. A small cloth was left behind and Jayne quickly wrapped his hand with it. A scarlet patch came through with a small expansion. His unseeing eyes were fixed on it.

“Do you see this?”

Jayne forced his eye to open. The dagger was red.

“This is yours. How much more do you have to give?”

He screamed as the dagger drew again into his thigh, deeper than before.

His eyes fluttered.

Jayne emptied the third glass without pausing. He was about to leave when a form stepped next to him, curvy and endowed.

“You look like you need some relaxin’.” She traced her fingers up his arm. “All tense and that just doesn’t suit you.” She reached his shoulder then neck. “I can help you unwind, if you’ll let me.” Her voice purred. She grabbed and removed his hat. “Just let-” She gasped softly before she could stop herself.

Yanking the hat from her grasp, Jayne stood and barrelled his way past her and out the door, best as he could with the ruttin’ crutch slowin’ him. The sun and too-quick drinkin’ was makin’ his head a bit wavy. He stepped back to the door, lettin’ th’tiny awnin’ give some shade to his eyes. Tappin’ at his side pocket, he felt the hard flask. Blinding rotgut it was.

Later... Serenity had landed while the town was having its annual festival and the crew was able to partake in some of the festivities. Tonight, a staged show was performed with a motley of acts.

Mal smoothed out the blanket he was on to allow Inara a seat. The evening air was refreshing and smelled a little of lilacs. “Not quite yer crowd,” he commented.

Inara smiled lightly. “Not exactly, but not unwelcome either.” She bent her legs beneath her and straightened her dress around her. The light wind caught the loose tendrils and she raised a polished hand to retrieve the lost locks. With the campfire lights reflecting, she looked like a goddess. Mal caught a smile play across his own lips. Times like this, he was glad she’d come back. Made him forget all the fights and stupid arguments.

“Mal?”

“Mm?” He jerked. “Oh. What?”

She moved her head in the direction of Zoe and Mal lifted an eyebrow. His first mate was resting on an elbow, her long legs stretched out before and she was grinning at the slapstick team currently on stage. An honest to God grin was on her lips and a chuckle even escaped those same lips. “Huh.”

Inara rolled her eyes and her smile broadened. Mal’s diction astounded her sometimes. She roamed the open area and spotted Simon with River and Kaylee nearby. He was trying to keep River from jumping up and joining comedic show. Inara knew the world to be less than Alliance friendly, but one could never be too cautious.

The Companion smirked at seeing the telltale look in Kaylee’s eye as she flirted openly with any and all young men who gave the slightest hint of something more. There had been a time when she would have worried for her young friend, risking herself with strange men, but after the time at the Training House and the recent incident with Jayne, she knew Kaylee was capable. Add to that two former soldiers and the young woman was well-protected.

The only one missing (three, if she were to be honest with herself) was Jayne. Since returning to the ship from her last client, an argument still unresolved with Mal, and being invited to the evening’s entertainment, she hadn’t seen the mercenary. She hoped that he was keeping out of trouble, but that hope vanished with the arrival of the local law enforcement.

“You Reynolds?”

Mal’s hand automatically went to his sidearm. “Depends.” How many times I gotta have this conversation?

A badge was flashed. “Hear tell you came in on that Firefly at dock 3.”

Mal only eyed the man.

“Seems we got one a your crewmen. Thought you might want t’drag him home.”

The Captain stifled a sigh and looked to Inara. “He cause some ruckus or misbehavin’?” his eyes now back at the sheriff.

The man shook his head. “Not so much. Folks just don’t like seeing big drunk men scaring little children is all. Jails a block south a here.” He waved a thumb in the general direction. “You want him tonight, best get there before eleven. Otherwise, he spends the night in the drunk tank.” The sheriff rose, his knees cracking a little at the movement and left.

Hands clapped as the performance ended. An announcer gave the name of the next act, another applause and loud music was piped out.

Mal leaned back, resting his weight on his hands, arms straight, as he settled in to the music. He caught Inara’s head turn and the silent question of why he wasn’t gathering up his mercenary. Moving forward, Mal wiped his hands. “This gets t’be a habit with that man, I’m liable to just leave his sorry ass.”

Inara looked away. As much as she felt Mal’s frustration about Jayne, she knew that it was also related to himself. He’d picked this crew and felt responsible. He just would have liked for his crew to behave at least decently. Staring at her lap, she smiled as she saw him rise, muttering angrily, and stomped off to retrieve the lost crewman.

River stopped her sway to the music, looked behind her and watched the Captain walk towards the jail.

“River?” Simon inquired. “What’s wrong?”

After a moment, she spoke. “He’s losing.” She watched Mal enter the local jail. “Needs help or gone forever.”

To be continued...

A/N 2: see the words "Post a Comment"? Please do so. What do you think of this story? Specifics help, but a friendly "great job" is nice, too.