Firefly Fic: One Time, That's All (Or Not), (Jayne/Simon, PG)
Title: One Time, That's All (Or Not)
Pairing: Jayne/Simon
Rating: PG
Words: About 4200
Summary: He never did like Simon Tam.
Notes: Serenity Santa gift for _beetle_. Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoy this. Post-movie.
1 -
Jayne never did like Simon Tam. Didn't want to like him, and turned out there weren't no reason to, even if having a doctor around came in handy. Like he told Wash once, back in the early days - "Ain't here to make friends."
He still remembers the way Wash had looked back at him, smile kind of crooked, "That's really endearing, Jayne. Remind me to be sure to invite you a special 'Welcome Aboard, Thanks for Not Shooting Us' party in your honour tonight."
Never was such a party, unless you call a meal with actual food you didn't have to fight over a party. Jayne maybe did, even if he didn't say so at the time.
Maybe he came to like Wash, Kaylee, the Preacher, and maybe even Zoe and Mal. But that don't mean he had to like Simon Tam and the world of trouble he kept bringing down on them. "Didn't sign on to get chased on account of somethin' I didn't do!" he yelled at Mal once, when things started to get real heated.
Didn't make a gorram difference, of course. Not that he'd expected it to.
* * *
"Boredom. That's all I'm sayin'. It'll kill a man as a good a bullet. So. We good?"
Simon don't quite look at him, but that ain't exactly unusual, 'specially when he's messing around with new medical shiny. "Good in what way, Jayne?"
"With the deal. Like I was just explainin'."
Now Simon looks up, and he's frowning. "I'm afraid I wasn't listening. I'm a little preoccupied at the moment and -"
"I'm bored. So much time out in the Black, and can't shoot guns on board. Can only throw knives and lift weights for so long. Ain't like there's any whores around, and -" Preacher ain't here to talk to, he ain't got Wash to be bugging on, but there ain't no way he's telling Simon rutting Tam that, "-I'm lookin' fer somethin' to kill the time."
"Without the actual killing."
"Yeah."
"And?"
For top three percent, the guy can be a real idiot. "Teach me the doctorin'."
There's a quiet spell for a space. Maybe Simon's getting back into looking at the medical shiny.
"'Doctoring'. You. Jayne Cobb."
See, he'd been expecting that kind of reaction, flat voice and all. He's already got an argument worked out. It's a good one, even. "One - Bored. Two - Sometimes I get cut up good, and you ain't there, what with the hidin' back where it's safe." Though that hiding part ain't exactly true these days, not that he'd admit it. "Three - second set of hands and all. That's always useful, except in knife fight in a cramped-up space. Four -"
"Technically Zoe is my second set of hands, and also," Simon frowns, "is this a serious request? You want me to -"
"Share them doctorin' skills around, yeah. The basics. On account of how I maybe need to sew myself up or somethin', if we ever get into a firefight again. Which ain't an unlikely prospect."
"And you're bored."
"Kinda." The way Simon's looking at him, Jayne can tell plain as day that it were a gorram stupid mistake to go asking this. This is why his ma always said boredom got a body into trouble.
But Simon don't say no. Maybe he's starting to get bored some days too. Instead, he rubs at his eyes like maybe he's been reading doctorly writings too long, and says, real firm. "You'd need to wash your hands. At least."
"I can do that." Though he ain't promising he will.
2 -
One thing he has to admit is that Simon never tried to plead his gorram case, beyond the once. Didn't try to get Jayne on his side, or bribe him or nothing. He just accepted the way things were, kept doing what he had to do, and acted like maybe he believed - deep down inside, somewhere he weren't showing no one - like it was all going to work out maybe almost okay in the end.
Maybe that's how it happened. Just a night - after another job that went real sour, not long after the Miranda situation went down - when Jayne was tired of accepting the way things were going for them.
"We'll get through this like everything else," Simon had said.
"Ain't lookin' for reassurances," he'd said, already a quarter way through a bottle, and trying not to think on what the Preacher might have said in this situation.
"I never said you were," Simon had said, sitting down at the table like maybe he couldn't stand up no more. "Could I -"
Yeah. He could. Jayne weren't ever real fond of drinking alone, truth be told. "She'll live?" he'd asked as he poured.
"She will."
"Sometimes wonder if maybe she don't want to, on account of losing Wash and all." That thought had been coming up more'n'more. "Thought she'd die under my hands, right in the middle of that craphole of a town."
"She'll be fine."
Right. At least body-wise.
He ain't entirely sure, to this day, exactly how it went from there. Maybe it was the drink, and the fact that they'd near on had another body on their hands, plus the truth that Simon, for all his irritating ways, weren't hard to look at.
Never did figure what it was Simon had been thinking at the time.
He can't say he remembers a lot of the detail - mostly he remembers both of them stumbling to Simon's bunk, and then things getting messy, and heat under his hands, and the taste of the drink and sweat mixed together. It had been fast but good, and after, Simon hadn't avoided looking at him, not even the next day.
* * *
First lesson in, after Jayne's had breakfast, cleaned two guns, lifted weights, had a second breakfast, and almost tripped over little sister lying on the floor for no good reason, he figures Simon must see him as the most backberth merc in the 'verse.
"I get it. Clean is good."
"Yes." Simon's speaking real slow. "Because if the wound and immediate area aren't sterilized, any stitches or skin-sealing you do may get infected, which means -"
"The arm or leg or whatever will get all gunked up and fall off."
"…I suppose that argument could be made, although 'falling off' isn't generally something a limb does -"
"Except when it's shot off or bombed up or somethin'."
Simon rubs at his eyes for what's got to be the fifth time in as many minutes. Don't seem a real clean habit. " - because generally it's more a case of amputation if things get that bad. Controlled amputation, naturally, although amputation is never the ideal scenario."
Ain't that the truth. "Had a merc friend - well, not so much a friend as a guy whose money I stole after a card game once - got his leg amputated for some reason. Who's gonna hire a one-legged merc? No one, that's who. Mal'd have my ass out the door 'fore I could ask if anyone wanted to buy an extra shoe."
"I'm sure that's not the case -"
Jayne shrugs. "Whatever. Move on. Step One: get it clean."
"And make sure your hands are clean. Sterile gloves would be better."
"I got gloves. Best grip on firing gloves a merc could want."
Simon rubs at his eyes again, and Jayne figures maybe that's the end of the lesson for the day.
It takes a while to get back to the lessons though, on account of how Mal finally decides to land the ship and land a job. Ain't much of a job - escorting some kind of vegetation from one town to the next - but it's pay, and there's extra vegetation in it for them. Kaylee makes all kinds of noises about it being good for soup.
"With protein dumplings," River mutters, giving the piles of stuff the stink eye. For once, Jayne agrees with her on something - the stuff looks about as appetizing as straw mixed up in dung.
"Full of nutrients," she adds, but she don't exactly sound convinced.
"She wasn't wrong," Simon says later, as he injects something into Jayne's arm. "Technically, the herbs were full of nutrients. Unfortunately, you had an allergic reaction. Do you have other allergies?"
His mouth still feels swollen and like maybe his lips ain't entirely connected to the rest of his body. He shakes his head.
"Interesting." Simon turns away. "I expect it's something in the soil that reacts with the herb to create a powerful allergen. It's possible this particular moon has a high rate of anaphylaxis-related deaths, not that I expect anyone keeps records. It could be fascinating to ask -"
Lying back on the bed, Jayne stops listening. Maybe learning some of this doctoring stuff helps keep the boredom away on long trips, but it don't mean he has to listen to the babble that goes with it.
3 -
One time between them, that's all, when things were tensed up and getting sweaty together seemed like a good way as any to deal with it. Jayne hasn't thought about it much since, and it's gorram stupid to be thinking on it now.
"You'll live," Simon is saying, looking down at him. Least, that's what Jayne thinks he's saying, based on how his lips are moving. He can't hear the words right - ears ringing like he's in some kind of damn bellhouse - but he's fair-to-certain that's what Simon's said.
He tries to shrug, but he ain't sure if his body works the way he wants it to.
"You'll live," Simon says again, though he don't look so healthy himself. His eyes are focused down on Jayne's chest, hands pressing in tight, hard. "Trust me."
Jayne never did want to believe one word out of Simon's mouth, but right now he almost believes he can.
* * *
Thing is, it never did seem like a good idea to go and start trusting folk. Almost trusting Mal might have worked out good for a space, but it came back and bit Jayne in the ass more than once. He'd count the number of times on his fingers, if he weren't under orders to quit trying to move.
Never did take orders so well, but this time, he's heard enough whispering from the crew to almost worry about the consequences if he don't do as he's told.
"…not entirely irreparable damage…" he'd heard once, Simon muttering on at Mal.
"…hospital ship?" That'd been Inara, and if he could've got up and walked out at that idea, he would've.
"…a risk, and I'm not sure that we can't afford not to…"
He'd wanted to hear the rest of that, but then Kaylee's face had appeared above him, and, "You hurtin' right now, Jayne?" had drowned out the chattering of others.
He hadn't been hurting at all, which maybe were more worrying than anything.
4 -
When lesson two does come around, turns out it's way out of order. Jayne don't complain, on account of how the situation ain't boring at all, and also, he's busy shooting with one hand while holding Simon's skin closed with another. That don't leave much time for formulating complaints.
"Son of bitch," Simon says, not for the first time, though his voice is shakier this time.
"My hand's getting real bloody," Jayne yells, shooting twice and watching one guy go down.
"Right," Simon mutters, sounding faint. "My bag."
Gotta drop the gun to get the bag. Jayne shoots a couple more times before he ducks down behind their cover and goes for the bag. "Step One," he mutters, "get the wound clean." Ain't so easy, what with all the blood, but he does his best, at least getting the sand gone.
"Technically, in this situation, the first step is getting the bleeding under control -"
"Shut up. What's Step Two?
"…check to see if the bullet went right through."
Jayne checks. "Yep."
"Stop the bleeding. Apply pressure."
The shooting is starting up again, and where the good gorram are Mal and Zoe? "Step Three and half, shoot the bastards who're shooting at you before you do anything else." His hand's slippery with Simon's blood, but he's held a gun through worse, and the locals are getting cocky and sloppy. He takes out another one.
"Jayne…"
Yeah. Doc's shirt is soaked with blood, from the shoulder on down. "Right. Apply pressure."
"Cut off circulation to the area. Use your belt."
He knows that, done it on himself once or twice. "Done."
"Sterile bandages. Wrap the wound."
"I got to clean 'em first?"
Maybe that's almost a quirk of a smile on Simon's face, just for a second. "They come clean."
Handy.
* * *
Problem with starting to trust folk - even a little - is it makes a man go and do things outside his usual actions. Lying in the infirmary, Jayne has plenty of time to ponder this truth, and ponder the exact actions that got him here in the first gorram place.
Ain't so much a sequence of events that he remembers as it is weird feelings. Things like his hands being sticky from Simon's blood, and noticing that holding a gun with hands like that weren't exactly easy. Or the way Simon made little hitching sounds each time Jayne dragged him a step closer to the ship, and how his own throat maybe started to itch on account of how hard he was yelling for Mal and Zoe.
He don't even remember getting shot, not really. More a sensation of something hot where it don't belong, of dropping his hold on Simon and reaching down to find his hand getting all sticky again. Then there was the smell - real bad. Worse than anything that's come with getting shot before, worse even than the smell of the Reavers when they were surrounded down on that little moon.
Dust. It tickled his nose as he tried to drag in air. And there was yelling from somewhere. Yelling, and more shots being fired, but not by his own hand.
He remembers hearing Mal call, "Zoe!" and thinking that it was about gorram time.
Lying on his back, staring up at the infirmary ceiling, he's got nothing to do but think on the whole situation, and remember that it's only when a man starts to trust - and maybe even like - the folk around him that he's apt to find himself in this kind of mess.
5 -
"Good morning," Simon says, looking down at him. His upper arm's bulky due to the bandages, but he's still as buttoned up and tidy as usual. Don't seem right. "How do you feel?"
Jayne's got all kinds of answers for that. His guts ache. Lying here's worse than any kind of boredom he's ever faced. The worried look on Kaylee's face when she comes and chatters to him is starting to give him headaches. Toes feel numb. There are kinds of things he could say about how he's feeling. Instead, he asks,
"Little Kaylee still takin' you out for a ride?" Mostly, the words come out clear, which makes him want to grin. He does grin with Simon chokes a little.
"What?"
"You know what I'm askin'. And I'm tryin' to be mannerful in the way I'm askin' it."
There's a real long pause - long enough Simon can inject him with something - before Simon says, "No."
Yeah, he already knew that. Knew it for a good long time, though asking Simon was worth it for the reaction.
"I suppose - sometimes things just aren't meant to be." Simon sounds regretful.
Jayne tries to smirk - he thinks it works, even if his mouth still feels funny sometimes. "I heard it's on account of how you just weren't no good at satisfyin' her."
Watching Simon choke up again is what he would consider real satisfying. "Wouldn't worry on it. Didn't have any problems that way with you myself, that one night."
"I think," Simon says after a minute, his cheeks a little red around the edges, and maybe almost smiling a little, "that your condition is improving. Perhaps we can move to a bit of solid food in a few more days. Now, wiggle your toes for me."
Jayne does.
* * *
"Ain't easy," Jayne says to Mal, days later, when he's finally back in his own bunk, lumpy mattress and all.
Mal nods. "Recovery's a bitch. Saw you breathing hard just getting here."
He looks around his room - his guns, and the girl pics, and his clothes. Maybe it smells a little stale down here, but he don't mind so much. "About that -"
Mal shoves away from the wall. "Get some rest," he says, already halfway up the ladder. "Can't have a merc who can't walk ten paces without wheezing."
Gorram -
"'Besides," Mal yells down, "if you don't get as good as before, I'll have a doctor sulking about not doing his gorram job right. You ever seen the man sulk? Even worse, you ever seen what his sister gets up to while he's sulking? Don't got time for any of that on this ship."
Pulling up the covers, Jayne figures that at least he knows where he stands.
6 -
"It looks like everything's healing nicely," Simon tells him, after what feels like a real long spell. Jayne gave up counting the days. "Any residual problems with the solid food?"
"Nope." Not now, anyway.
"How's your stamina?"
Jayne frowns, "I ain't exactly had the chance to test it, unless you count my hand, but if you want to test it out, I ain't exactly busy right now -"
"Your physical stamina, Jayne. Walking around. Doing the exercises I told you to do. Your general energy level." He sounds a little prissy, but he also looks like he's trying hard not to laugh a little.
Right. "I was gettin' to that. It's better."
Simon nods. "Good. I still don't want you going out on jobs, but I'm happy with your progress. Keep up the exercises, and we'll add to them over time. Don't push yourself too far. If you're bored, we could get back to teaching you basic emergency first aid - temporary stitches, for example, or -"
"Nah." Truth is, he's had enough of medicine and the infirmary for a good long spell.
Simon nods. "Also, I don't believe I ever really thanked you. For saving my life back on that planet. And I'm sorry for not thanking you before this." Simon maybe almost smiles. "Thanks for getting me back here."
Jayne shrugs, and it barely hurts at all - a twinge more than anything. "Got blood on my newest favourite shirt doing it." Mostly his own gorram blood, and then there's the hole in it. Still, it's worth mentioning.
Simon's eyes roll up, almost like it's automatic. "I suppose I'll owe you."
"You do that," Jayne replies, but he's grinning.
* * *
Seems like he's real careful for a long time - weeks on end when he sits out during jobs, then only works the easy angles, sometimes with someone else hovering over him, like he's some kind of delicate lady.
Seems like it's never going to end, being left behind with nothing to do but bug on Kaylee, or clean his guns again, or do the exercises Simon tells him he's got to do.
Then there's a day when a job goes bad. He ain't expecting it - never is - but one minute he's sitting in the hold, waiting for Mal and Zoe to get back, and the next, River's yelling at him, chattering nonsense, and dragging him out, telling him to move.
He moves. Doesn't even think about, just pulls out his gun and runs after her. Turns out it ain't real necessary - by the time he catches up, she's breathing hard, and three men are lying around her, maybe not breathing at all. Still, he got there, and his legs ain't even shaking, and he's ready - could do whatever needed to be done.
"Huh," Mal says, when he and Zoe wriggle out of their hidey-hole. "Guess maybe the doctor won't be sulking after all. I think you owe me 50 credits, Zoe."
"The bet was unfair," River says, her eyes not quite back to being focused and almost-sane. "Simon is very skilled."
There're scars across Jayne's belly these days, red and angry looking. Ain't nothing to dwell on, but they're there, a reminder that he ain't dead even after getting gut-shot with a real nasty rifle.
Maybe Zoe would bet against Simon's skills, but Jayne sure as hell wouldn't.
7 -
"Stamina," Jayne says later, after they're back up in the Black and things are real quiet. Folk are scattered, and Simon's holed up in the lounge.
Simon looks up from his book, something thick and probably more boring than a whore on laundry day. "Excuse me?"
"Went out today."
"I know. I was there when you came back."
He had been, medical kit ready and everything. "Ran after yer crazy sister, no questions asked. Weren't even winded, everything worked fine. Weren't shaky or nothin'."
Simon smiles up at him, leaning back against his chair. "That's excellent news. I'd say you're almost back to normal. Tomorrow we should do a few more tests, see your -
"Thing is," Jayne says, cutting off the flow of doctor-babble that he knows is coming, "I ain't entirely sure. About the stamina."
"Well, there are some tests we can run, but if you're telling the truth about feeling all right today, then -"
"No." Jayne sits down. "I ain't talkin' about that. I'm talking about stamina."
It takes a moment, but Simon gets it, his eyes widening briefly. "I see. And?"
"And I'm lookin' for someone to test it out with me. Someone who I can trust, and who ain't too irritatin'."
"Are you asking me to talk to Mal about finding you a whore on medical grounds? Because 1 - I don't think he'd be convinced, and 2 - No."
"That ain't what I'm sayin'." Core folk - sometimes they need everything spelled out for them. "I'm sayin' that maybe you were irritatin' once. For a real long time. But - you ain't too irritatin' now." That's all he's saying. "And mostly I figure I can trust you, and not just when yer being my doctor."
Simon's fingers stroke across the cover his book, real slow, one-two-three. Jayne can't help but watch.
"You really know how to charm, don't you?"
He shrugs. "Ain't my forte. Least, that's what Inara said once."
Simon ain't smiling now, but there's something about the way his eyes watch Jayne that makes it seem like maybe he is. "Perceptive."
"Fancy." He shoves away from the chair, and his guts don't even twinge a little bit. "Might interest you to know I washed."
Carefully, Simon sets his book down on the table. "You're serious."
"As a rash."
The grin he gets is wide, almost a little wild around the edges. He's seen it before - just the once, the night of drinking and talking and ending up in Simon's bunk.
Simon's standing up, and Jayne's pretty sure that seals the deal.
"Poor choice of wording aside -"
He reaches out and pulls Simon close. "You gonna chatter all night?"
"I suppose not."
That's real good. Better than good.
* * *
Next morning, he wakes up alone. Still, he don't wake up on the floor, or even in his own bunk, and he figures that's a good sign. A gorram great sign is that he feels kind of sore in all the right ways.
Pulling on his clothes, he looks around the room. It's tidy and a little dull, but it ain't like Simon's got much in the way of gear. Ain't as homey as Jayne's bunk, but then again, the mattress ain't as lumpy.
He figures Simon's either in the kitchen or the infirmary. Infirmary's closer, and as he walks towards it, he hears voices loud enough that he can stand a few paces away and listen in.
"…yesterday's run he says he didn't feel shaky or winded. I want to do a few tests this morning, but -"
"But you think he's back to normal."
"Almost. You'd still need to pace him at first."
"But his stamina's good."
Maybe Simon chokes a little, but he covers it up with a cough. "I'd say so, yes."
Jayne smirks.
"He's ready for more active work, but as I said, try not to push him too far right away."
"I'll do my best. Good work, doctor."
"Thank you."
"Jayne," Mal says a little louder. "I know you're out there. Quit lurking and get in here for those tests. Then get geared up for a job. We're landing in two hours."
Never could get much past Mal.
"And," Mal adds, once Jayne walks through the door, "I don't want to hear that you bribed the doctor here to get you cleared early."
Simon coughs again. "Honestly, Captain, I can't think of anything he has that could be used as a bribe." Simon don't look at Jayne when he says it, but Jayne ain't blind. He can see the way Simon's mouth is twitching at the corners.
"Good point. Two hours, Jayne," Mal repeats, leaving the room.
Two hours, Jayne figures, is plenty of time for all kinds of interesting tests.
End
Pairing: Jayne/Simon
Rating: PG
Words: About 4200
Summary: He never did like Simon Tam.
Notes: Serenity Santa gift for _beetle_. Happy Holidays! I hope you enjoy this. Post-movie.
1 -
Jayne never did like Simon Tam. Didn't want to like him, and turned out there weren't no reason to, even if having a doctor around came in handy. Like he told Wash once, back in the early days - "Ain't here to make friends."
He still remembers the way Wash had looked back at him, smile kind of crooked, "That's really endearing, Jayne. Remind me to be sure to invite you a special 'Welcome Aboard, Thanks for Not Shooting Us' party in your honour tonight."
Never was such a party, unless you call a meal with actual food you didn't have to fight over a party. Jayne maybe did, even if he didn't say so at the time.
Maybe he came to like Wash, Kaylee, the Preacher, and maybe even Zoe and Mal. But that don't mean he had to like Simon Tam and the world of trouble he kept bringing down on them. "Didn't sign on to get chased on account of somethin' I didn't do!" he yelled at Mal once, when things started to get real heated.
Didn't make a gorram difference, of course. Not that he'd expected it to.
* * *
"Boredom. That's all I'm sayin'. It'll kill a man as a good a bullet. So. We good?"
Simon don't quite look at him, but that ain't exactly unusual, 'specially when he's messing around with new medical shiny. "Good in what way, Jayne?"
"With the deal. Like I was just explainin'."
Now Simon looks up, and he's frowning. "I'm afraid I wasn't listening. I'm a little preoccupied at the moment and -"
"I'm bored. So much time out in the Black, and can't shoot guns on board. Can only throw knives and lift weights for so long. Ain't like there's any whores around, and -" Preacher ain't here to talk to, he ain't got Wash to be bugging on, but there ain't no way he's telling Simon rutting Tam that, "-I'm lookin' fer somethin' to kill the time."
"Without the actual killing."
"Yeah."
"And?"
For top three percent, the guy can be a real idiot. "Teach me the doctorin'."
There's a quiet spell for a space. Maybe Simon's getting back into looking at the medical shiny.
"'Doctoring'. You. Jayne Cobb."
See, he'd been expecting that kind of reaction, flat voice and all. He's already got an argument worked out. It's a good one, even. "One - Bored. Two - Sometimes I get cut up good, and you ain't there, what with the hidin' back where it's safe." Though that hiding part ain't exactly true these days, not that he'd admit it. "Three - second set of hands and all. That's always useful, except in knife fight in a cramped-up space. Four -"
"Technically Zoe is my second set of hands, and also," Simon frowns, "is this a serious request? You want me to -"
"Share them doctorin' skills around, yeah. The basics. On account of how I maybe need to sew myself up or somethin', if we ever get into a firefight again. Which ain't an unlikely prospect."
"And you're bored."
"Kinda." The way Simon's looking at him, Jayne can tell plain as day that it were a gorram stupid mistake to go asking this. This is why his ma always said boredom got a body into trouble.
But Simon don't say no. Maybe he's starting to get bored some days too. Instead, he rubs at his eyes like maybe he's been reading doctorly writings too long, and says, real firm. "You'd need to wash your hands. At least."
"I can do that." Though he ain't promising he will.
2 -
One thing he has to admit is that Simon never tried to plead his gorram case, beyond the once. Didn't try to get Jayne on his side, or bribe him or nothing. He just accepted the way things were, kept doing what he had to do, and acted like maybe he believed - deep down inside, somewhere he weren't showing no one - like it was all going to work out maybe almost okay in the end.
Maybe that's how it happened. Just a night - after another job that went real sour, not long after the Miranda situation went down - when Jayne was tired of accepting the way things were going for them.
"We'll get through this like everything else," Simon had said.
"Ain't lookin' for reassurances," he'd said, already a quarter way through a bottle, and trying not to think on what the Preacher might have said in this situation.
"I never said you were," Simon had said, sitting down at the table like maybe he couldn't stand up no more. "Could I -"
Yeah. He could. Jayne weren't ever real fond of drinking alone, truth be told. "She'll live?" he'd asked as he poured.
"She will."
"Sometimes wonder if maybe she don't want to, on account of losing Wash and all." That thought had been coming up more'n'more. "Thought she'd die under my hands, right in the middle of that craphole of a town."
"She'll be fine."
Right. At least body-wise.
He ain't entirely sure, to this day, exactly how it went from there. Maybe it was the drink, and the fact that they'd near on had another body on their hands, plus the truth that Simon, for all his irritating ways, weren't hard to look at.
Never did figure what it was Simon had been thinking at the time.
He can't say he remembers a lot of the detail - mostly he remembers both of them stumbling to Simon's bunk, and then things getting messy, and heat under his hands, and the taste of the drink and sweat mixed together. It had been fast but good, and after, Simon hadn't avoided looking at him, not even the next day.
* * *
First lesson in, after Jayne's had breakfast, cleaned two guns, lifted weights, had a second breakfast, and almost tripped over little sister lying on the floor for no good reason, he figures Simon must see him as the most backberth merc in the 'verse.
"I get it. Clean is good."
"Yes." Simon's speaking real slow. "Because if the wound and immediate area aren't sterilized, any stitches or skin-sealing you do may get infected, which means -"
"The arm or leg or whatever will get all gunked up and fall off."
"…I suppose that argument could be made, although 'falling off' isn't generally something a limb does -"
"Except when it's shot off or bombed up or somethin'."
Simon rubs at his eyes for what's got to be the fifth time in as many minutes. Don't seem a real clean habit. " - because generally it's more a case of amputation if things get that bad. Controlled amputation, naturally, although amputation is never the ideal scenario."
Ain't that the truth. "Had a merc friend - well, not so much a friend as a guy whose money I stole after a card game once - got his leg amputated for some reason. Who's gonna hire a one-legged merc? No one, that's who. Mal'd have my ass out the door 'fore I could ask if anyone wanted to buy an extra shoe."
"I'm sure that's not the case -"
Jayne shrugs. "Whatever. Move on. Step One: get it clean."
"And make sure your hands are clean. Sterile gloves would be better."
"I got gloves. Best grip on firing gloves a merc could want."
Simon rubs at his eyes again, and Jayne figures maybe that's the end of the lesson for the day.
It takes a while to get back to the lessons though, on account of how Mal finally decides to land the ship and land a job. Ain't much of a job - escorting some kind of vegetation from one town to the next - but it's pay, and there's extra vegetation in it for them. Kaylee makes all kinds of noises about it being good for soup.
"With protein dumplings," River mutters, giving the piles of stuff the stink eye. For once, Jayne agrees with her on something - the stuff looks about as appetizing as straw mixed up in dung.
"Full of nutrients," she adds, but she don't exactly sound convinced.
"She wasn't wrong," Simon says later, as he injects something into Jayne's arm. "Technically, the herbs were full of nutrients. Unfortunately, you had an allergic reaction. Do you have other allergies?"
His mouth still feels swollen and like maybe his lips ain't entirely connected to the rest of his body. He shakes his head.
"Interesting." Simon turns away. "I expect it's something in the soil that reacts with the herb to create a powerful allergen. It's possible this particular moon has a high rate of anaphylaxis-related deaths, not that I expect anyone keeps records. It could be fascinating to ask -"
Lying back on the bed, Jayne stops listening. Maybe learning some of this doctoring stuff helps keep the boredom away on long trips, but it don't mean he has to listen to the babble that goes with it.
3 -
One time between them, that's all, when things were tensed up and getting sweaty together seemed like a good way as any to deal with it. Jayne hasn't thought about it much since, and it's gorram stupid to be thinking on it now.
"You'll live," Simon is saying, looking down at him. Least, that's what Jayne thinks he's saying, based on how his lips are moving. He can't hear the words right - ears ringing like he's in some kind of damn bellhouse - but he's fair-to-certain that's what Simon's said.
He tries to shrug, but he ain't sure if his body works the way he wants it to.
"You'll live," Simon says again, though he don't look so healthy himself. His eyes are focused down on Jayne's chest, hands pressing in tight, hard. "Trust me."
Jayne never did want to believe one word out of Simon's mouth, but right now he almost believes he can.
* * *
Thing is, it never did seem like a good idea to go and start trusting folk. Almost trusting Mal might have worked out good for a space, but it came back and bit Jayne in the ass more than once. He'd count the number of times on his fingers, if he weren't under orders to quit trying to move.
Never did take orders so well, but this time, he's heard enough whispering from the crew to almost worry about the consequences if he don't do as he's told.
"…not entirely irreparable damage…" he'd heard once, Simon muttering on at Mal.
"…hospital ship?" That'd been Inara, and if he could've got up and walked out at that idea, he would've.
"…a risk, and I'm not sure that we can't afford not to…"
He'd wanted to hear the rest of that, but then Kaylee's face had appeared above him, and, "You hurtin' right now, Jayne?" had drowned out the chattering of others.
He hadn't been hurting at all, which maybe were more worrying than anything.
4 -
When lesson two does come around, turns out it's way out of order. Jayne don't complain, on account of how the situation ain't boring at all, and also, he's busy shooting with one hand while holding Simon's skin closed with another. That don't leave much time for formulating complaints.
"Son of bitch," Simon says, not for the first time, though his voice is shakier this time.
"My hand's getting real bloody," Jayne yells, shooting twice and watching one guy go down.
"Right," Simon mutters, sounding faint. "My bag."
Gotta drop the gun to get the bag. Jayne shoots a couple more times before he ducks down behind their cover and goes for the bag. "Step One," he mutters, "get the wound clean." Ain't so easy, what with all the blood, but he does his best, at least getting the sand gone.
"Technically, in this situation, the first step is getting the bleeding under control -"
"Shut up. What's Step Two?
"…check to see if the bullet went right through."
Jayne checks. "Yep."
"Stop the bleeding. Apply pressure."
The shooting is starting up again, and where the good gorram are Mal and Zoe? "Step Three and half, shoot the bastards who're shooting at you before you do anything else." His hand's slippery with Simon's blood, but he's held a gun through worse, and the locals are getting cocky and sloppy. He takes out another one.
"Jayne…"
Yeah. Doc's shirt is soaked with blood, from the shoulder on down. "Right. Apply pressure."
"Cut off circulation to the area. Use your belt."
He knows that, done it on himself once or twice. "Done."
"Sterile bandages. Wrap the wound."
"I got to clean 'em first?"
Maybe that's almost a quirk of a smile on Simon's face, just for a second. "They come clean."
Handy.
* * *
Problem with starting to trust folk - even a little - is it makes a man go and do things outside his usual actions. Lying in the infirmary, Jayne has plenty of time to ponder this truth, and ponder the exact actions that got him here in the first gorram place.
Ain't so much a sequence of events that he remembers as it is weird feelings. Things like his hands being sticky from Simon's blood, and noticing that holding a gun with hands like that weren't exactly easy. Or the way Simon made little hitching sounds each time Jayne dragged him a step closer to the ship, and how his own throat maybe started to itch on account of how hard he was yelling for Mal and Zoe.
He don't even remember getting shot, not really. More a sensation of something hot where it don't belong, of dropping his hold on Simon and reaching down to find his hand getting all sticky again. Then there was the smell - real bad. Worse than anything that's come with getting shot before, worse even than the smell of the Reavers when they were surrounded down on that little moon.
Dust. It tickled his nose as he tried to drag in air. And there was yelling from somewhere. Yelling, and more shots being fired, but not by his own hand.
He remembers hearing Mal call, "Zoe!" and thinking that it was about gorram time.
Lying on his back, staring up at the infirmary ceiling, he's got nothing to do but think on the whole situation, and remember that it's only when a man starts to trust - and maybe even like - the folk around him that he's apt to find himself in this kind of mess.
5 -
"Good morning," Simon says, looking down at him. His upper arm's bulky due to the bandages, but he's still as buttoned up and tidy as usual. Don't seem right. "How do you feel?"
Jayne's got all kinds of answers for that. His guts ache. Lying here's worse than any kind of boredom he's ever faced. The worried look on Kaylee's face when she comes and chatters to him is starting to give him headaches. Toes feel numb. There are kinds of things he could say about how he's feeling. Instead, he asks,
"Little Kaylee still takin' you out for a ride?" Mostly, the words come out clear, which makes him want to grin. He does grin with Simon chokes a little.
"What?"
"You know what I'm askin'. And I'm tryin' to be mannerful in the way I'm askin' it."
There's a real long pause - long enough Simon can inject him with something - before Simon says, "No."
Yeah, he already knew that. Knew it for a good long time, though asking Simon was worth it for the reaction.
"I suppose - sometimes things just aren't meant to be." Simon sounds regretful.
Jayne tries to smirk - he thinks it works, even if his mouth still feels funny sometimes. "I heard it's on account of how you just weren't no good at satisfyin' her."
Watching Simon choke up again is what he would consider real satisfying. "Wouldn't worry on it. Didn't have any problems that way with you myself, that one night."
"I think," Simon says after a minute, his cheeks a little red around the edges, and maybe almost smiling a little, "that your condition is improving. Perhaps we can move to a bit of solid food in a few more days. Now, wiggle your toes for me."
Jayne does.
* * *
"Ain't easy," Jayne says to Mal, days later, when he's finally back in his own bunk, lumpy mattress and all.
Mal nods. "Recovery's a bitch. Saw you breathing hard just getting here."
He looks around his room - his guns, and the girl pics, and his clothes. Maybe it smells a little stale down here, but he don't mind so much. "About that -"
Mal shoves away from the wall. "Get some rest," he says, already halfway up the ladder. "Can't have a merc who can't walk ten paces without wheezing."
Gorram -
"'Besides," Mal yells down, "if you don't get as good as before, I'll have a doctor sulking about not doing his gorram job right. You ever seen the man sulk? Even worse, you ever seen what his sister gets up to while he's sulking? Don't got time for any of that on this ship."
Pulling up the covers, Jayne figures that at least he knows where he stands.
6 -
"It looks like everything's healing nicely," Simon tells him, after what feels like a real long spell. Jayne gave up counting the days. "Any residual problems with the solid food?"
"Nope." Not now, anyway.
"How's your stamina?"
Jayne frowns, "I ain't exactly had the chance to test it, unless you count my hand, but if you want to test it out, I ain't exactly busy right now -"
"Your physical stamina, Jayne. Walking around. Doing the exercises I told you to do. Your general energy level." He sounds a little prissy, but he also looks like he's trying hard not to laugh a little.
Right. "I was gettin' to that. It's better."
Simon nods. "Good. I still don't want you going out on jobs, but I'm happy with your progress. Keep up the exercises, and we'll add to them over time. Don't push yourself too far. If you're bored, we could get back to teaching you basic emergency first aid - temporary stitches, for example, or -"
"Nah." Truth is, he's had enough of medicine and the infirmary for a good long spell.
Simon nods. "Also, I don't believe I ever really thanked you. For saving my life back on that planet. And I'm sorry for not thanking you before this." Simon maybe almost smiles. "Thanks for getting me back here."
Jayne shrugs, and it barely hurts at all - a twinge more than anything. "Got blood on my newest favourite shirt doing it." Mostly his own gorram blood, and then there's the hole in it. Still, it's worth mentioning.
Simon's eyes roll up, almost like it's automatic. "I suppose I'll owe you."
"You do that," Jayne replies, but he's grinning.
* * *
Seems like he's real careful for a long time - weeks on end when he sits out during jobs, then only works the easy angles, sometimes with someone else hovering over him, like he's some kind of delicate lady.
Seems like it's never going to end, being left behind with nothing to do but bug on Kaylee, or clean his guns again, or do the exercises Simon tells him he's got to do.
Then there's a day when a job goes bad. He ain't expecting it - never is - but one minute he's sitting in the hold, waiting for Mal and Zoe to get back, and the next, River's yelling at him, chattering nonsense, and dragging him out, telling him to move.
He moves. Doesn't even think about, just pulls out his gun and runs after her. Turns out it ain't real necessary - by the time he catches up, she's breathing hard, and three men are lying around her, maybe not breathing at all. Still, he got there, and his legs ain't even shaking, and he's ready - could do whatever needed to be done.
"Huh," Mal says, when he and Zoe wriggle out of their hidey-hole. "Guess maybe the doctor won't be sulking after all. I think you owe me 50 credits, Zoe."
"The bet was unfair," River says, her eyes not quite back to being focused and almost-sane. "Simon is very skilled."
There're scars across Jayne's belly these days, red and angry looking. Ain't nothing to dwell on, but they're there, a reminder that he ain't dead even after getting gut-shot with a real nasty rifle.
Maybe Zoe would bet against Simon's skills, but Jayne sure as hell wouldn't.
7 -
"Stamina," Jayne says later, after they're back up in the Black and things are real quiet. Folk are scattered, and Simon's holed up in the lounge.
Simon looks up from his book, something thick and probably more boring than a whore on laundry day. "Excuse me?"
"Went out today."
"I know. I was there when you came back."
He had been, medical kit ready and everything. "Ran after yer crazy sister, no questions asked. Weren't even winded, everything worked fine. Weren't shaky or nothin'."
Simon smiles up at him, leaning back against his chair. "That's excellent news. I'd say you're almost back to normal. Tomorrow we should do a few more tests, see your -
"Thing is," Jayne says, cutting off the flow of doctor-babble that he knows is coming, "I ain't entirely sure. About the stamina."
"Well, there are some tests we can run, but if you're telling the truth about feeling all right today, then -"
"No." Jayne sits down. "I ain't talkin' about that. I'm talking about stamina."
It takes a moment, but Simon gets it, his eyes widening briefly. "I see. And?"
"And I'm lookin' for someone to test it out with me. Someone who I can trust, and who ain't too irritatin'."
"Are you asking me to talk to Mal about finding you a whore on medical grounds? Because 1 - I don't think he'd be convinced, and 2 - No."
"That ain't what I'm sayin'." Core folk - sometimes they need everything spelled out for them. "I'm sayin' that maybe you were irritatin' once. For a real long time. But - you ain't too irritatin' now." That's all he's saying. "And mostly I figure I can trust you, and not just when yer being my doctor."
Simon's fingers stroke across the cover his book, real slow, one-two-three. Jayne can't help but watch.
"You really know how to charm, don't you?"
He shrugs. "Ain't my forte. Least, that's what Inara said once."
Simon ain't smiling now, but there's something about the way his eyes watch Jayne that makes it seem like maybe he is. "Perceptive."
"Fancy." He shoves away from the chair, and his guts don't even twinge a little bit. "Might interest you to know I washed."
Carefully, Simon sets his book down on the table. "You're serious."
"As a rash."
The grin he gets is wide, almost a little wild around the edges. He's seen it before - just the once, the night of drinking and talking and ending up in Simon's bunk.
Simon's standing up, and Jayne's pretty sure that seals the deal.
"Poor choice of wording aside -"
He reaches out and pulls Simon close. "You gonna chatter all night?"
"I suppose not."
That's real good. Better than good.
* * *
Next morning, he wakes up alone. Still, he don't wake up on the floor, or even in his own bunk, and he figures that's a good sign. A gorram great sign is that he feels kind of sore in all the right ways.
Pulling on his clothes, he looks around the room. It's tidy and a little dull, but it ain't like Simon's got much in the way of gear. Ain't as homey as Jayne's bunk, but then again, the mattress ain't as lumpy.
He figures Simon's either in the kitchen or the infirmary. Infirmary's closer, and as he walks towards it, he hears voices loud enough that he can stand a few paces away and listen in.
"…yesterday's run he says he didn't feel shaky or winded. I want to do a few tests this morning, but -"
"But you think he's back to normal."
"Almost. You'd still need to pace him at first."
"But his stamina's good."
Maybe Simon chokes a little, but he covers it up with a cough. "I'd say so, yes."
Jayne smirks.
"He's ready for more active work, but as I said, try not to push him too far right away."
"I'll do my best. Good work, doctor."
"Thank you."
"Jayne," Mal says a little louder. "I know you're out there. Quit lurking and get in here for those tests. Then get geared up for a job. We're landing in two hours."
Never could get much past Mal.
"And," Mal adds, once Jayne walks through the door, "I don't want to hear that you bribed the doctor here to get you cleared early."
Simon coughs again. "Honestly, Captain, I can't think of anything he has that could be used as a bribe." Simon don't look at Jayne when he says it, but Jayne ain't blind. He can see the way Simon's mouth is twitching at the corners.
"Good point. Two hours, Jayne," Mal repeats, leaving the room.
Two hours, Jayne figures, is plenty of time for all kinds of interesting tests.
End