Author's Note: A little more talking, a little more peeling away at the layers.

The first thing I really noticed ‘bout it was that it didn’t hurt. After the whole thing with Simon, after fightin’ uselessly just to convince myself that it was worth a couple’a tears to be with the man I’d pursued for so long, it seemed almost unnatural that it was so easy to be with the man I’d never considered to be much more than my big brother. How easy it was to stop thinkin’ of him as my ge ge. “You’re a bad girl, Kaylee girl,” he’d tease. “Can’t believe the things you’re talkin’ bout doin’ with your ge ge.” Not that you wanted to hear that, but that’s what he said. That’s what he always said.

“You’re so bad, Kaylee,” he whispered, pressing his tongue against the hollow of her throat. “Such a bad girl.” He grinned down at her. “I love it, though.” She ran her hands across his chest, exploring the patches of hair and the scars. “Do you love me?” “Mmm.” “Say it.” “Love you.” “Love who?” “Love you, Kaylee doll.” She melted, and had to close her eyes and lean heavily against him to support her weight. “Love you, Jayne.” He grinned down at her again, bit her earlobe, and started pulling her toward the bunk.

We’d been married for six months when we found out. We never discussed babies before that. That was the one hard part ‘bout the whole thing—babies. I knew well ‘n good that he didn’t want any, but I always wanted a baby. A real human baby to hold an’ rock an’ feed an’ teach ‘bout engines. I’d half-resigned myself ta Serenity bein’ my only baby, then Simon showed us those test results. He’d never admit it, but he was so excited ‘bout the whole thing. Always bringin’ me presents back from jobs, talkin’ bout the future…he’d get so animated. He could lay his head on my tummy for hours an’ just talk. Weren’t somethin’ either of us’d tell the rest o’the crew, but it’s somethin’ I think you deserve to take with ya.

“Are ya mad?” she asked tentatively, touching his shoulder. “Nah.” But he didn’t look up from the gun he was polishing obsessively. “Jayne.” She willed herself not to whine. “I ain’t mad, Kaylee girl.” He set down the rag and looked up at her, matching her eyes with his and offering his best smile. “Just a li’l surprised is all.” “So’m I.” She sat down on the bed and crossed her legs. “Are ya?” he picked up another gun. “Are ya really?” Her eyes widened in horror. “Jayne, you think I…you think I planned it?” “Doc said birth control’s usually ‘least 90 percent accurate.” “So we’re in the ten percent.” Her eyes flashed, and she took the gun from him. “I don’t want this any more than you do, Jayne.” And then she started to cry. Now, most people thought Jayne was pretty cold. Maybe he was. But if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was watching his wife cry. He dropped the gun-cleaning rag and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry, bao bei,” he whispered into her hair, over and over, until she stopped crying. “I know it ain’t your fault. I’m sorry for doubtin’ you. It’ll be okay. I’m sorry.” That was one of the most surprising things about Jayne, at least from Kaylee’s perspective—his heart. He never showed it, but he could be sweet and apologetic and loving, and it took her breath away. She could—would—spend her whole life with this man, this quirky and wonderful man. It made her tingly in a way she hadn’t felt since Simon. She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “Don’ leave me, Jayne.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Who said I was leavin’?” She kissed his chin. “No one.” He smiled. “I ain’t leavin’ for a long time yet. I got things to take care of.” He leaned down and kissed her tummy. “Don’t leave tomorrow,” she pleaded. “We been through this.” “I don’t want you to leave.” She was close to tears again. “Don’ cry, baby, don’ cry. I’ll be back in the afternoon an’ cap’n says we can spend the whole weekend together.” He didn’t come back from that job. I’ve spent the last 2 months waitin’ for that weekend.