Firefly scenelette
This was supposed to be part of an actual fic, and it just might, if I can figure out how to fix the major plot-hole. I might discuss it later.
So instead here´s a scene which doesn´t do very much and might not stand up as a short fic but I´m going to post in anyway. *breathes*
If you read this, please be kind. I can´t do dialogue and I can´t do angry.
And if you don´t know what´s going on, read character bios here.
Title: We´re all girls here
Characters: Jayne, River
Fandom: Firefly
Set: Sometime after "Objects in Space"
Disclaimer: Not mine, but Joss´s.
Summary: River sneaks into Jayne´s bunk
Words: 1145
“Ayā, girl, what the hell you doin’ here?” Jayne lowered his gun and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t you ever sleep?”
River shook her head and let go of the ladder with a gentle lift of the arms, like a bird stretching its wings. “I don’t sleep,” she said. “There’s always someone talking.”
Jayne eyed her carefully before putting Betty back on the wall. When he turned back around he saw River leaning against the wall of his bunk. She was stretching up against it so that her whole spine touched the metal. Jayne glanced back at the ladder, confused.
“I asked Serenity to knock for me,” she said. She stretched her right arm out against the wall, caressing it with the flesh of her thumb. “It’s proper ship etiquette.”
“No,” said Jayne, standing up and moving to the girl, “proper etiquette would be for you to get the hell outta my bunk.” He pointed to the ladder. “Now git.”
“One more won’t hurt,” she said, sliding away from him and the ladder.
“Shénme?”
She ignored him and walked around his bunk, reaching out to the walls and sparse furniture but not quite touching anything. Jayne stared at her warily, distinctly uncomfortable at being alone with the girl. Where the hell was her gorram brother? Weren’t he supposed to keep her under lock at nights?
When she wandered closer to his bed, poking his pillow for cryin’ aloud, Jayne sidled up to the foot of the bed. “Girl, if you don’t get gone-”
“There’s so many of us here,” she said.
“Huh?”
She reached out a hand and held it wavering over the guns. “Some were known, some were had…”
“Get your hands away from that.” He grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged it away, stepping forward to block the guns from her line of sight. She didn’t move back as much as he’d hoped. “Don’t you ever touch my guns.”
“Already touched your guns.”
“Yeah, and that got me a tongue-lashing I didn’t deserve,” he said. “Anyways, girls oughtn’t’a touch guns.”
“Zoë does,” insisted River.
“Zoë ain’t a girl,” said Jayne, gritting his teeth.
“But we are,” she said with a smile. “We’re all girls here.”
Jayne didn’t like what that sounded like at all. “Don’t you start on that,” he warned.
River’s smile faded instantly. “Names are words that give substance.”
“Well, just you wait,” said Jayne, pointing a finger at River, “till I give substance to these: Get outta my bunk.”
River stared at his finger like it held a secret within. “No finger-pointing.”
There’d be a hell of a lot more than finger-pointin’ if Mal ever got wind of this, thought Jayne. ‘Course, before Mal tried to pin the blame on him, Jayne’d be sure to see to it that that go se of a doctor saw some pointin’ too. Gorram moon-brain goin’ on ‘bout guns wouldn’t sit right with anyone.
“You ready to get gone now?” he said, trying to remember how it was that that brother of hers ever got her to do anything without makin’ her; it’d be the business-end of a barrel instead of finger if he laid hand on the little brat. He tried intimidating the girl away from his bunk instead, glaring down at her as he did to Badger (or Badger’s hat, because that man was small).
Gorram girl did move away from him, but she had the gall to smile, like this was some sorta game. “Blind man’s bluff,” she whispered. Her smile disappeared.
River turned her back to him and stretched out her arms, looking for all the world like a little girl playing. Jayne heard her mumbling to herself, catching only “forty-seven degrees”, as she took a few steps away from the bed. When she stopped, her fingers were a hair’s breath away from the wall.
Jayne watched, wondering what the hell had made her climb down into his bunk in the first place. Ignoring the fact that she shoulda been behind a sealed and bolted door (kinda like that wife Mal got himself did to the bridge), why’d she have’ta come ‘round poking at his things?
“A robin redbreast in a cage,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She twirled around, eyes still closed, and curtsied. At Jayne’s frustrated “Tāshuō-?”, she pressed a finger against her temple. “Talking,” she explained.
That mind-readin’ habit just has got to go, thought Jayne.
She started walking towards the ladder. Jayne kept on glaring, almost wishing he didn’t have to look at her. It was real disquieting how she made her way across his bunk: she walked backwards, none too slow neither, and made her way straighter and without stumbling on any of his stuff that anyone should be able. Eyes on the back of that little head, he was sure of it.
Finally she was standing behind the ladder, one foot already on the rung, chin resting on another rung. Jayne had kept up with her retreat, hands itching to push her out faster.
River jerked her head towards his bed. “Năge shì wŏde?”
Jayne didn’t have to turn around to know what she meant. “Not a one. We’d all have’ta be as ruttin’ crazy as you afore handin’ you your own piece.”
River pressed her forehead harder against the steel rung. She locked eyes with Jayne and suddenly she seemed perfectly sane, dangerously focused. “Why’d you do it?”
“Gŭnkāi!” Jayne swatted at the ladder but the girl was already climbing fast.
He heard her giggle at the top of the ladder before stepping into the hall. Jayne craned his neck up, barely making out her footsteps as she walked away. He waited a moment longer, just to be safe. That look she’d given him from the ladder had disturbed him more than a little. He sighed and stepped towards the control panel, wanted nothing more than to sleep for a few good hours. A few short hours, he corrected, reading the time off the panel.
“Wăn’ān,” said River, hanging her head into his bunk.
“I said git!” Jayne leapt towards the ladder and started climbing. Somewhere in the hall, the little brat gorram giggled.
When he was halfway up, the door to his bunk closed. Jayne climbed up another rung before realizing what River had done. He glanced over his shoulder: the panel light was blinking. Good, he thought, he wasn’t locked in by that bunch o’ crazy.
He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge, waiting. He kept glancing at the ladder, expecting the door to open any time. He hadn’t bothered locking it: weren’t no use. Eventually he lay down and pulled his blanket over himself, turning on his side to eye his guns. There wasn’t a one he would part with, he thought. Not a one.
translations:
Ayā:: interjection for surprise or regret (e.g. Damn!, Oh my!, Ah!)
Shénme: What? I´m sorry?
Tāshuō: (Tāshuō shénme?) What did you say?
Gŭnkāi: Get lost!
Năge shì wŏde: Which one´s mine?
Wăn’ān: Goodnight.
A/N: Obviously the "Why´d you do it?" comment is part of the above-mentioned plot-hole.
So instead here´s a scene which doesn´t do very much and might not stand up as a short fic but I´m going to post in anyway. *breathes*
If you read this, please be kind. I can´t do dialogue and I can´t do angry.
And if you don´t know what´s going on, read character bios here.
Title: We´re all girls here
Characters: Jayne, River
Fandom: Firefly
Set: Sometime after "Objects in Space"
Disclaimer: Not mine, but Joss´s.
Summary: River sneaks into Jayne´s bunk
Words: 1145
“Ayā, girl, what the hell you doin’ here?” Jayne lowered his gun and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Don’t you ever sleep?”
River shook her head and let go of the ladder with a gentle lift of the arms, like a bird stretching its wings. “I don’t sleep,” she said. “There’s always someone talking.”
Jayne eyed her carefully before putting Betty back on the wall. When he turned back around he saw River leaning against the wall of his bunk. She was stretching up against it so that her whole spine touched the metal. Jayne glanced back at the ladder, confused.
“I asked Serenity to knock for me,” she said. She stretched her right arm out against the wall, caressing it with the flesh of her thumb. “It’s proper ship etiquette.”
“No,” said Jayne, standing up and moving to the girl, “proper etiquette would be for you to get the hell outta my bunk.” He pointed to the ladder. “Now git.”
“One more won’t hurt,” she said, sliding away from him and the ladder.
“Shénme?”
She ignored him and walked around his bunk, reaching out to the walls and sparse furniture but not quite touching anything. Jayne stared at her warily, distinctly uncomfortable at being alone with the girl. Where the hell was her gorram brother? Weren’t he supposed to keep her under lock at nights?
When she wandered closer to his bed, poking his pillow for cryin’ aloud, Jayne sidled up to the foot of the bed. “Girl, if you don’t get gone-”
“There’s so many of us here,” she said.
“Huh?”
She reached out a hand and held it wavering over the guns. “Some were known, some were had…”
“Get your hands away from that.” He grabbed hold of her wrist and tugged it away, stepping forward to block the guns from her line of sight. She didn’t move back as much as he’d hoped. “Don’t you ever touch my guns.”
“Already touched your guns.”
“Yeah, and that got me a tongue-lashing I didn’t deserve,” he said. “Anyways, girls oughtn’t’a touch guns.”
“Zoë does,” insisted River.
“Zoë ain’t a girl,” said Jayne, gritting his teeth.
“But we are,” she said with a smile. “We’re all girls here.”
Jayne didn’t like what that sounded like at all. “Don’t you start on that,” he warned.
River’s smile faded instantly. “Names are words that give substance.”
“Well, just you wait,” said Jayne, pointing a finger at River, “till I give substance to these: Get outta my bunk.”
River stared at his finger like it held a secret within. “No finger-pointing.”
There’d be a hell of a lot more than finger-pointin’ if Mal ever got wind of this, thought Jayne. ‘Course, before Mal tried to pin the blame on him, Jayne’d be sure to see to it that that go se of a doctor saw some pointin’ too. Gorram moon-brain goin’ on ‘bout guns wouldn’t sit right with anyone.
“You ready to get gone now?” he said, trying to remember how it was that that brother of hers ever got her to do anything without makin’ her; it’d be the business-end of a barrel instead of finger if he laid hand on the little brat. He tried intimidating the girl away from his bunk instead, glaring down at her as he did to Badger (or Badger’s hat, because that man was small).
Gorram girl did move away from him, but she had the gall to smile, like this was some sorta game. “Blind man’s bluff,” she whispered. Her smile disappeared.
River turned her back to him and stretched out her arms, looking for all the world like a little girl playing. Jayne heard her mumbling to herself, catching only “forty-seven degrees”, as she took a few steps away from the bed. When she stopped, her fingers were a hair’s breath away from the wall.
Jayne watched, wondering what the hell had made her climb down into his bunk in the first place. Ignoring the fact that she shoulda been behind a sealed and bolted door (kinda like that wife Mal got himself did to the bridge), why’d she have’ta come ‘round poking at his things?
“A robin redbreast in a cage,” she said, tilting her head to the side. She twirled around, eyes still closed, and curtsied. At Jayne’s frustrated “Tāshuō-?”, she pressed a finger against her temple. “Talking,” she explained.
That mind-readin’ habit just has got to go, thought Jayne.
She started walking towards the ladder. Jayne kept on glaring, almost wishing he didn’t have to look at her. It was real disquieting how she made her way across his bunk: she walked backwards, none too slow neither, and made her way straighter and without stumbling on any of his stuff that anyone should be able. Eyes on the back of that little head, he was sure of it.
Finally she was standing behind the ladder, one foot already on the rung, chin resting on another rung. Jayne had kept up with her retreat, hands itching to push her out faster.
River jerked her head towards his bed. “Năge shì wŏde?”
Jayne didn’t have to turn around to know what she meant. “Not a one. We’d all have’ta be as ruttin’ crazy as you afore handin’ you your own piece.”
River pressed her forehead harder against the steel rung. She locked eyes with Jayne and suddenly she seemed perfectly sane, dangerously focused. “Why’d you do it?”
“Gŭnkāi!” Jayne swatted at the ladder but the girl was already climbing fast.
He heard her giggle at the top of the ladder before stepping into the hall. Jayne craned his neck up, barely making out her footsteps as she walked away. He waited a moment longer, just to be safe. That look she’d given him from the ladder had disturbed him more than a little. He sighed and stepped towards the control panel, wanted nothing more than to sleep for a few good hours. A few short hours, he corrected, reading the time off the panel.
“Wăn’ān,” said River, hanging her head into his bunk.
“I said git!” Jayne leapt towards the ladder and started climbing. Somewhere in the hall, the little brat gorram giggled.
When he was halfway up, the door to his bunk closed. Jayne climbed up another rung before realizing what River had done. He glanced over his shoulder: the panel light was blinking. Good, he thought, he wasn’t locked in by that bunch o’ crazy.
He walked back to his bed and sat on the edge, waiting. He kept glancing at the ladder, expecting the door to open any time. He hadn’t bothered locking it: weren’t no use. Eventually he lay down and pulled his blanket over himself, turning on his side to eye his guns. There wasn’t a one he would part with, he thought. Not a one.
translations:
Ayā:: interjection for surprise or regret (e.g. Damn!, Oh my!, Ah!)
Shénme: What? I´m sorry?
Tāshuō: (Tāshuō shénme?) What did you say?
Gŭnkāi: Get lost!
Năge shì wŏde: Which one´s mine?
Wăn’ān: Goodnight.
A/N: Obviously the "Why´d you do it?" comment is part of the above-mentioned plot-hole.