Twenty Hours: by Tyloric

Beta read by the lovely youroctober. Important Note: As a reviewer so graciously pointed out, the name of the moon in Jaynestown is Higgins. I had forgotten this while writing and to be completely honest am just too lazy to change it. Just consider this an AU if it really bothers you.

Part Two: Recollections

[A few days ago]

“Higgens?” Jayne sputtered, “What the hell kind’a name is Higgens?”

Mal was giving him a look that was a cross between annoyance and amusement. “That’s just the name of the moon, Jayne. I ain’t never heard of it ‘fore now.”

The mercenary barked a laugh. “Well with a name like Higgens, I ain’t surprised. Hey, where you from? I’m from Higgens!” He tittered at his own joke.

Mal rolled his eyes, but he was smiling all the same. Clasping the mug that sat in front of him, he took another long, slow draw of coffee. It was bitter, as they’d run out of sweetener, and it stung the back of his throat a bit on its way down, but damned if it didn’t wake him up something proper. Straight up black coffee, one of the only ways he stayed on his feet after a night with no sleep.

Jayne’s partly to blame for him not sleeping; the man had the libido of teenager. Of course, last night had been their first real night of proper sexin’, as Jayne had just been given a bill of clean health by the doc the day prior, and Jayne had literally jumped at the chance to get his rocks off in a way that didn’t exclusively include hands and rubbing against one another.

It hadn’t stopped Jayne from working out, however. In the week and a half Jayne had been confined to his, and Mal’s by extension, bunk, Jayne hadn’t been able to stay completely bedridden, despite both his and Simon’s constant warnings of reopening the bullet wounds. Naturally, he had graciously ignored them both, waiting until Mal was forced to leave on a job before doing his pushups, sit ups, and squats, forcing himself through the pain that any other man would have found excruciating. After a while he had started ignoring medical advice completely and moved on to his weight set, only to open up the gun wound in his bicep. Needless to say, that hadn’t been a very fun day.

However, regardless of the fact that he was pushing himself, he had gotten the doc (more like threatened, really) to give him the okay to go out on a job. Simon had begrudgingly agreed.

Jayne, on the other hand, was bouncing up and down in his seat, ready to get off the ship after weeks of confinement.

“So what are we delivering to Higgens?” Jayne couldn’t help but over-pronounce the name; to him it was one of the funniest things he’d heard in a while. Mind you, it didn’t take much to amuse Jayne.

“Illegal weapons!” Mal said, cheerily, “Donated very graciously by the alliance.” Jayne snorted at the donated part.

“Don’t s’pose we--” he began.

“No, Jayne. We ain’t keepin’ any of ‘em,” Mal finished for him, propping his feet up on the table in the galley, cradling his mug tenderly.

“Aw, c’mon, Mal. They ain’t gonna miss one or two… or seven.” Mal actually enjoyed it when Jayne got this way, all pouty. It was, dare he say, cute, and a bit sexy. But mostly cute…. and sexy.

“Buyers requested thirty G286 Semi-automatic rifles, and they’re gonna get thirty G286 Semi-automatic rifles.”

Jayne was looking at him, awestruck. “Semi-auto… semi-automatic… Rifles?! Aw, c’mon, Mal! Just one!” He was drooling a bit at the mouth, his eyes wide with interest like a kid on Christmas morning.

‘Okay, maybe it’s a bit more than cute’, Mal thought, ‘it’s kind’a funny.’

“Sorry, àirén.” Jayne’s eyes always softened when Mal called him that. “They want thirty. Thirty’s all we got.” And Jayne frowned, genuinely disappointed.

But then a smile spread over his face again. “Heh, Higgens.”

Mal groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

River chose that moment to step into the galley, bare feet treading lightly across the cool chrome floor.

Mal regarded her. “Hey there, Albatross. We on course?”

“One hour until arrival, Captain,” she said smoothly, turning on the faucet to fill a cup of water.

Jayne turned to look at her. “Hey, Moonbrain.”

She met his gaze.

“Higgens.”

River’s lips tugged up into a smile while Mal just covered his face with his hand.

***

“You can stop rubbing it in, you know,” Mal sighed, clutching an arm across his chest in pain.

“All I’m saying,” Jayne continued relentlessly, “that a moon bein’ named Higgens should’a been our first clue.”

“So this is my fault, now?”

Realizing his mistake, Jayne backed off a bit. “No, it’s those húndàns fault for thinking they could double cross us and get away wid’it.” Jayne tried to bite his tongue, but it slipped out before he could stop it, “But you did jinx us again.”

Between the pain in his chest and Jayne’s constant nagging, Mal snapped, “Tiān xiăodé! Don’t get to startin’ that gŏushĭ again!” he spat angrily, a strained look on his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, irritated with himself. Before he and Mal had ‘hooked up’, he would have had no reservations spitting out all sort of criticisms at the crippled man. After all, he was currently bed-bound and in a fair amount of pain, which meant he couldn’t do much to stop him. But that was before they were… ‘sweethearts.’ Now Jayne actually cared about what Mal thought about him, but years of training himself not to care about the opinion of others was hard to forget.

“Want me to get the doc?” Jayne suggested, finally realising how much discomfort Mal was in. They were still in the infirmary, as it had only been a few days after surgery. Mal was going stir crazy, and he was also in constant pain, which was proving not to be a very ideal mix.

“No,” he said, though he’d be yelling if he was able to inflate his lungs that far, “what I want is out of this gorram infirmary and into my bunk. Damn bed is harder than your skull and the lights are too bright.” In an act of uncharacteristic wisdom, Jayne let that skull comment slide.

“At least now you understand why I couldn’t stay in ‘ere whenever I got all banged up.” The bigger man nodded, forcing emphasis on his point.

This gave Mal reason to pause, thinking back on those couple of weeks. Good lord, if Jayne hadn’t been able to stand two weeks, how was he going to stand two months?

“Shit,” he cursed quietly.

Jayne grinned. “But don’tcha worry, I’ll be right here!” He snickered, and Mal didn’t take much comfort in that.

“Wo de ma, two months bedridden with a man who had the sex drive of a twenty year old.”

Jayne’s smile met his eyes. “You know you want it.”

Mal didn’t have the energy to argue the point.

***

The first couple of weeks weren’t as bad as Mal anticipated they would be. After the first few days, he had gotten the okay from Simon (albeit threateningly) to go into one of the passenger dorms. It was a bit of an adjustment from Mal’s bunk; the bed was much smaller and there wasn’t a lot of room for his things. The latter didn’t bother him as much, as he realized he was only in the room temporarily.

Jayne was, surprisingly, fairly patient with him. He got through Mal’s moans of pain, which the captain has begun to suppress. Mal knew from experience with Jayne that complaining about every little thing would just wear on everyone’s nerves quicker, so he only spoke up when he desperately needed something.

Kaylee, Simon, and occasionally River helped him when Zoë and Jayne were out on jobs. It irritated and, to a point, scared Mal that those two were out there without him, and he half-expected Jayne to be a bloody mess when he returned after the few times he left.

On the third week, he was able to walk around, within reason. He couldn’t leave bed without someone assisting him, as the muscles in his abdomen and back just weren’t strong enough to support his torso entirely. He’d started physical therapy by this point, and Mal would admit that it was a fairly excruciating ordeal, but this wasn’t the first time he was being gunned down within an inch of his life; that had happened more than once during the war, so he was not totally unfamiliar with the recovery process.

The routine consisted of various stretches and strengthening exercises. The stretches were easy enough, but when it came to actually using his muscles, Mal found that he usually had to force it.

Jayne helped him when he could, generally sticking around for moral support more than anything else. He helped with the stretches when Mal got stiff, and stuck close by whenever the currently-crippled captain found himself in a position he couldn’t get out of under his own power.

Silently, Mal was grateful for the assistance. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn’t want to be going through this sort of pain alone, and the fact that Jayne stuck by at all meant a lot to him. Maybe there was something to this whole relationship business after all.

It was the boredom that Mal was having trouble combating, and Kaylee’s romance novels could only sate that for a very, very short period of time. He had torn stitches more than once over-exercising because that was the only thing available to him. That and masturbating, and a fella’s hand could only keep him entertained for so long.

“Bored,” he moaned.

“ ‘m sorry,” Jayne would say.

These two phrases became nightly rituals.

And all that free time got a man to thinking.

[3 months ago]

Mal groaned, his head throbbing violently at him. He felt like a train had run him down. Sitting up groggily, he rubbed his forehead with his hand, and then stood up.

Only to find he was naked. Mal didn’t sleep naked.

It was then that he was able to tune into the light snoring. Turning around cautiously, he noted the sleeping figure he hadn’t noticed before, as the man was pressed back up against the wall. His lower section was still covered by the thin sheets, his hairy chest rising and falling as he slept. When the realization that this body was, in fact, Jayne, he panicked.

“Liú kŏushŭi de biăozi hé hóuzi de bèn érzi.” It was at that moment that Jayne decided to open his eyes to regard him.

“Mornin’,” he said simply.

Taking a deep breath, Mal tried to steady his nerves,.“Jayne, wanna explain why you’re sleepin’ in my bunk… with me?”

“Ya invited me.” The mercenary had rolled over to face Mal, propping himself up with an elbow.

Mal’s lip twitched. “I invited you?”

“Ya invited me.”

The captain just stood there, dumbly, trying to process this sudden turn of events. His thoughts of the previous night were foggy; he couldn’t recall anything.

Jayne was frowning at Mal’s silence. “You okay?”

“Fucking shiny,” he said, irritated. No, not irritated. Distraught.

Slept with a member of his crew. The captain slept with a member of his crew. This went against so many of his morals and rules. And with Jayne, no less.

“How did this happen?” The question itself was rhetorical, though Jayne took the liberty of answering it anyway.

“Well, you and I went out ’fer a drink yesternight. You got buzzed pretty quick there and got to talkin’ about how y’ ain’t had a thrust in a while. Once thing led to another…” The man-ape gone wrong was grinning like an idiot as he recalled the evening.

“You took advantage of me?” Mal asked seriously, wondering why he sounded like such a prissy-core raised boy.

“Maybe If I hadn’t been as drunk as you was, you could call it that.” He snickered, laying himself out on the bed so that Mal could see everything.

Everything.

Mal suddenly found it very hard to breathe.

“Plus, don’t look like yer’ regrettin’ anythin’ from where I’m sittin’,” he quipped, gesturing towards Mal’s lower extremities.

The captain looked down and was, in fact, deathly aroused. He shouldn’t be. He should kick Jayne out. Throw him off his boat.

At that moment, though, his brain wasn’t in… total control of his actions.

“Screw it,” he said sharply, moving to press his lips firmly against Jayne’s.