BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

LADYKNIGHT

Untitled - Chapter 2
Sunday, April 2, 2006

At least...the prodical chapter returns in it's completed form. Enjoy.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2261    RATING: 8    SERIES: FIREFLY

The loud rap on the bedroom door could only be one person. Jayne immediately leapt out of bed, scattering his octi-centi dicks and candy wrappers everywhere as he threw the large, upper quilt to the floor and raced to his door. His legs had gotten awkwardly longer which caused him to be unsure of his steps as he hurried across the room. Tripping over his own feet, the twelve-year-old boy barley caught the handle of the door as he went down. It gave way, and, to his horror, the door swung open leaving his father with an all too clear view of the fact that he’d just fallen flat on his face.

Humiliated, Jayne started to pull himself to his feet, looking up. “Pa!” he greeted, trying to keep his embarrassment out of his voice. He mostly succeeded. “When’d you get back?” Until, of course, his voice cracked on the word get. Gorram G sound.

“Just today.” The gruff voice responded as his father extended a hand to help him up. Jayne didn’t take it, choosing instead to push himself up. “Your mother showed me your report card.”

“Wo cao, Zhu tou, Gou shi…” Jayne rattled off the Chinese swear words with ease he would never have using such strong language in English.

“Jayne!” His father snapped, but there was no hiding the laugh behind his voice. “Do you even know what those words mean?”

“I know they’re cuss words.” Jayne replied simply. “And if you saw my report card then I got cause to cuss.”

“You do.” His father admitted, taking a seat on the bed halfway across the room. Jayne took a chair somewhat closer to the door in hopes of a quick getaway if things went south. Which he knew they would soon as letters started getting said. “’course, I don’t see what a slur for sex, a pig’s head and dog droppings have to do with your predicament, kid.” Jayne looked down. His father was the sort of man that, no matter where he went or what he was doing, demanded respect. He cussed like any man, but shot words and phrases you’d used back at you and made ‘em sound all manner of stupid. Once he got started, it was best to begin pretending your feet had suddenly got awful interestin’. “Out of curiosity, how exactly does one go about failing PE?”

“Not showin’ up.” Jayne answered without hesitation. His father raised him to always tell the truth, no matter how awkward it might be after. Pa was always throwin’ out little nuggets of wisdom that he knew would be with him always. May as well be all the way honest now that he’d gotten started. “I hate school, pa. Hell, half the kids are dumber ‘n me, and I know I ain’t bright by no means.”

“Now don’t you talk like that, boy.” Pa snapped, pointing. “You’re damn bright, which is why I’m so disappointed in these grades. Now, I read your essay on Wild Island, and it was damn near brilliant. Care to explain how you got a C minus on it?”

“Didn’t get it typed out in time.” Jayne grumbled. “Teacher didn’t give me any extra…”

“Do you want to drop out?”

The interruption was so unexpected it shocked Jayne into a moments silence. His pa put real value on education, went to collage on the core even. Jayne always thought he had hopes of his son following his footsteps that far at least, maybe takin’ a more fanciable path from there. Now…well, this came right out of the blue. ‘course, Jayne wasn’t one to miss opportunity when and where ever it knocked. “Yes sir.” He responded, formally, to show that what little education he’d had had paid off enough to make it in the real world.

“Well, alright. Now, I’ll tell you what. There’s a factory over on Prometheus, takin’ in workers. Got a delivery position for a boy about your age wide open. So far no one’s held it more ‘n a month. If you can keep it a good six months, I’ll count you educated and damn close to manhood.” With that, his father rose, and started for the door. Without so much as a glance over his shoulder, he added “just get that gorram voice to behave and you’ll be all grown up ‘fore you know it.”

The door slammed, practically in his face as he’d started to stand. Staring at it for a long moment, Jayne found himself whispering “No I won’t pa.” before finally shaking himself out of it and turning away.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shed out back held plenty memories. Everything from hiding poor, defenseless kittens from them as would torture and kill ‘em while laughing and snacking on all manner of junk to makin’ pacts with the inner circle of friends he’d been part of nearly since birth. So, when Jayne felt himself come to, he was only slightly surprised to find himself there. It’d been quite some time since he’d blacked out in anger. Use to happen almost regular. Last he remembered was the night he found out some Chou wang ba dan had stood his sister up for senior prom. ‘course, that was back when he got mad at every little thing, almost killed some folk, more ‘n once. Blacking out was a safety net his brain created after accidentally hittin’ Fred ‘cross the mouth when she was four. Scared him half to death, and since then, he had a safe, dark place to go when he got mad that let him just walk away. Wound up here more often then not when that happened.

A soft knock on the rusted door rattled the whole building. A good wind could bring it down easy. Thankfully, a little one floor shed like this was well protected by the skyscrapers around it and would stay up for a long time. The sound of rattling walls, accompanied by a small, quiet knock, brought back memories he’d thought he left behind a long time ago. Almost instinctively, Jayne responded by hurrying to the door and placing his hand over the bolt so as to stop an intruder if they answered wrong. “Thirty-two.” He whispered through the centimeters wide crack.

“Ten short.” Fred’s familiar voice whispered in return, a giggle in her voice at the use of positively ancient pass codes reminiscent of Jayne’s brief obsession with Earth-that-was novels. Then, seriously “Let me in, gege.” Jayne pulled the bolt back, and pushed the door open; Fred took hold of the side of the thin sheet that nearly anyone could break down, but held it carefully and, as she slipped through as small an opening as she could fit, began “Are you O.K.?”

“Am now.” Jayne responded, pushing the door shut behind his sister. “Blacked out.”

“I thought so.” Fred responded, leaning up against the door. Jayne kept his hand over her shoulder, pressing nearly a fourth of his weight into the flimsy excuse for a doorframe. It creaked under that. “Jayne, mother never meant for you to find out like that. She and Torrin were kissing, weren’t they?”

Jayne’s world spun. “Torrin?” He hissed, reeling back against the crates. “Torrin Gorden?” Several crates got knocked over as Jayne tried to find the back wall to stable himself. “What the was Mom doing with that gan ni niang for? He’s…”

“You know him?” Fred asked, startled.

“Know of!” Jayne retorted, then, he advanced at her, protesting. “He’s a gorram slave trader, Fred!” Jayne reached out toward his sister, unsure what he had to do; just knowing he needed to convince her that this was bad news. Fred recoiled away from him, and Jayne froze, realizing how it must seem to her, him having just blacked out and all. “Fred I…I’m sorry, it’s just…Does mother know he’s a slave trader?”

Fred laughed. “Jayne! Where’d you hear that?” Jayne imminently tightened his lip and stiffened, unwilling to inform her where he’d gotten his information. Fred may no longer be the 4-year-old that told Aunt Marla all about his plans to sell stolen gum and got him in deep when he was twelve, his first job that ever went south, but he still didn’t trust her to keep her mouth shut. Loved her more n’ anything alive, but didn’t trust her. “’cause it ain’t true. He’s not a slave trader…I mean…I know you hate the alliance for some reason. Wasn’t like you were in the war, but…Alliance don’t run slaves, Jayne.”

Jayne looked at her, somewhat sadly. “You ain’t seen what I have, mei-mei. You’re still too innocent, and I love ya for it. But I don’t trust the Alliance none, and I sure as anythin’ don’t trust Torrin Gorden.”

“You don’t even know him!” Fred protested. “And you ain’t got proof he’s anythin’ other ‘n a good workin’ man just like yourself.”

Jayne winced. How was he expected to explain he was supposed to find proof of just that? ‘course, running and hiding and avoiding him wasn’t gonna establish that relationship he was gettin’ paid for. What could only be a big ball of guilt built in his stomach, made him feel near to puking. “Well…I guess you’re right on that…wouldn’t trust a man like me neither, mei-mei, but…I guess I’ll go see ‘em. Make sure he’s right for ma. They ain’t anythin’ serious, are they?”

Fred paused, seeming slightly frightened. “Jayne…they got married last month.” *****

Conversation was akward ‘till Jayne got back. He mumbled something like an apology, which Marla expertly brushed over by announcing dinner was ready, and inviting them all to share. Jayne was sent to set the table, and, surprisingly, he did an almost perfect job of it.

Dinner was set on the table, dishes were passed, and a comfortable mealtime mood fell. “Jayne, I oughta have you set the table more often on ship.” Mal commented “Didn’t know you could get anythin’ to resemble fancible.”

“Jayne only sets the table to get out of dishes.” Fred interjected suddenly. “We switched chores when I was eight.”

Jayne grinned a bit. “Fred yelled at me real good when she first got dishpan hands after we switched.”

Just the memory seemed to annoy the young woman. “He hadn’t washed dishes in a weak. I didn’t know when I took over that he had a big pile up he’d passed onto me. I had my hands underwater for the better part of an hour. My sponsor wanted to kill me for letting my hands go like that.” By the end of the tale, she was laughing.

In interest of explaining, Marla added “Fred is a very talented ice skater. She won the silver metal in the ’07 Olympics for ladies ice dance.”

“Aunt Marla!” Fred protested, her cheeks flushing.

“I think I saw that.” Zoë commented. “Your song was Sweet Riches, wasn’t it?”

Fred nodded, embarrassed. “I don’t know what the judges were thinking, really. I couldn’t even begin to say how badly I messed up that spin…”

“The quadruple?” Zoë asked. Fred nodded. “That was really impressive. I know I couldn’t go that long without something solid under my feet.”

Jayne grinned, and Fred studied her plate, shyly poking at the meat with her fork. “Yep, I wasn’t kiddin’, Mal, when I called Fred the prettiest gal in the ‘verse. Coupla years there I had a full time job keepin’ the fan boys away.”

“Ge ge…” Fred protested shyly.

The atmosphere stayed light. Except for moments when Jayne and Torrin made eye contact, but even that was broken quickly enough to not ruin anything. The next several hours were nice, and comfortable. When Mal finally decided it was time to leave, goodbyes were said warmly, promises to return as they’d be working on Eka for some time, hugs for Jayne and handshakes for Mal and Zoë, and with departure, came a sudden change in mood.

“Jayne?”

“Yeah Mal?” This was gonna be bad.

“You know this complicates things some, don’tcha?”

“Yeah Mal.” Jayne responded. “Makes the relationship bit a mite easier.” He justified quickly.

“More ‘n a mite.” Mal responded. “How…um…how involved you conjure your step-daddy’s with them slaves he’s goin’ after?”

“Don’t know.” Jayne responded, then, startled “You weren’t planin’ on sendin’ me, were you?”

Mal’s look answered that question. He voiced the response anyway. “Wasn’t planin’ on sending anyone.” There was a long pause before Mal commented “Now, I can’t exactly send the doc…”

“Might take ‘em down a peg or two.” Jayne offered in an effort to be helpful.

“Not so far as he could act that low. Doc couldn’t act less ‘n formal if his little sister’s life depended on it, speakin’ of whom, we’d get saddled with were anythin’ to happen.”

Jayne grunted a bit, then, without thought, suggested “Kaylee?” The look on Mal’s face not only vetoed that suggestion, but made him feel deeply guilty for even suggesting sending Kaylee into a situation like this was bound to become.

“Cap’n, all due respect, but you send my husband into that sort of situation and I’ll be plenty irrational if he comes back with so much as a scratch.” Zoë interjected suddenly.

“Wasn’t even thinkin’ on it.” Mal responded quickly. “I need him on Prometheus sellin’ goods.” With a look at Jayne, he added “Kaylee too.”

Jayne thought a moment, ticked off those yet to met his step-father in his mind, and came up with two options. “Well…that ain’t gonna be easy then.” He commented. “You gonna send the preacher or the whore?”

For a long moment, Mal didn’t respond.

***

“Hey Preacher?”

COMMENTS

Sunday, April 2, 2006 7:08 PM

BLUEEYEDBRIGADIER


Not really surprised they went with Book....Inara might be able to charm circles around Jayne's stepdad, but Mal ain't gonna risk her life unless you have a situation like the one during the last half the the BDM.

Anyway...good chapter, if a bit dodgy in how the timeline laid out (i.e. transitions were a bit rough). Maybe a bit more editing can help...

BEB

Thursday, April 6, 2006 3:37 PM

AZECRYX


I LOVE the ending. That. Was. Excellent.

Nice reference to the Hitchhiker's Guide, btw. 42 - 10 = 32. XP

Thursday, April 6, 2006 7:04 PM

TONYAHUQT03


Lol I got an F in PE in middle school too cause I didn't dress out and my mom had the same response as Jayne's dad. Good chapter, looking forward to more.
Wacky fun!

Friday, April 7, 2006 2:18 AM

BURNANDBOIL


I too loved the PE bit!! I laughed out loud :P I love little Jayne, so cute yet scarily already like his older self!!
(Thanks for the reminder, I keep missing all the fics I want to read!! :D)

Wednesday, May 24, 2006 3:54 PM

MORDSITH


Good writing and good chatacter voice.


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