“How many knives ya got on ya Jayne?” Mal pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Three.”
“How many guns?”
Straight faced, Jayne answered, “Four an’ a half.”
A muscle twitched in Mal’s jaw. “What’sa half of—never mind. Listen…just…for the love of the verse don’t shoot or cut anybody, you libel to clip our contact and dead contacts ain’t good for tradin’. You get me?”
-- What I want...What I need - Part 2 by mercenarysong