Serenity, Nevada: 10/18
Wow, it's been a while since I posted, or posted this. I re-found all of this with the edits just now, and decided to add it to the previous parts of Serenity, Nevada.
Mostly due to Perri, who helped me talk through exactly what happens in this section. Yargh, but I do hate action sequences. As usual, all comments welcomed welcomed welcomed.
When last we left our heroes: Mal had just freaked out Simon, Jayne, and Wash by having them help him and Zoe stake a rising vampire in the morgue. River and Oz had met up in the graveyard, where Oz explained Slayers and River explained the weirdness in the desert. At the end of that part, River & Oz were headed to the bar where Jayne was drinking his troubles away.
And now, back to our story. :>
Serenity, Nevada (10/18?)
by CLK
copyright 2005
Vampires. God damned vampires.
He wasn't nearly drunk enough to deal with this crap.
Jayne took another pull off his MGD and ignored the fight brewing two tables away. Helen Wheels' was jumping, with a buncha outta-town cowboys firing up the jukebox and hittin' on the women. But he had enough problems without babysitting the tourists lookin' for a fight. Another beer or so, and he might start knockin' heads just for something to *do*, damnit. 'Til then, he had to do some thinkin', which left him all resentful and shit.
Why in the Hell had Mal brought him in and told him the truth? He really hadn't wanted to know. Jayne figured it was just Mal's way of makin' sure Jayne didn't end up a brain-eatin' zombie one of these nights. Mostly so's Mal wouldn't have to be shootin' Jayne's brains out.
There were just some things a man wanted to be left in ignorance on. Knowing where his weapons were, and knowing where other people's weapons in Serenity were, Jayne figured his chances were better in town than hellin' off into the sunrise. Didn't mean he had to stay sober to think
about it. Somebody else could be deputy for a night.
Six beers in -- he blamed that later for the double take -- the customer gettin' a beer from Helen didn't seem to even be there in the mirror. He blinked, and figured six beers would make things go just that fuzzy.
Wait a minute.
Jayne's well-used sense of self-preservation contradicted the alcohol.
That man don't have a reflection. Which makes him the same as that thing in the morgue. And that's just all kinds of wrong.
Therefore, as soon as the fella looked away from the mirror, Jayne punched him out. The tourist fell back on his keister, momentarily stunned--
Then sneered up at him, face full of pointy teeth, glowy eyes, and bug-ugly bumps pushin' to the front. And not much hurt, neither.
"Aw, hellfire. Helen? Duck!"
Helen, smart ol' gal that she was, took cover as Jayne picked up a barstool and crashed it down on the tourist's noggin, letting the vamp have it. Sorta. Any other fella woulda been down for the count, damnit, but this one was gettin' back up.
The fight already being started, hell decided it was time to break loose-- in the form of the other seven tourists with the sharp-toothed yellow-eyed thing goin' on. Screamin' and yellin' and general mayhem commenced.
The slinky redhead he'd been eyein' by the jukebox earlier was kickin' one of the truckers like she was one of them ninjas, snarlin' through her fangs, and the brunette chica she'd been talking to before the fight chomped on the neck of the cowboy buyin' her beers. In between trading punches, Jayne saw she had blood dribblin' outta her mouth, and it damn well gave him the shivers.
Helen was deployin' her shotgun into the chests of two of the things comin' at her over the bar now, but they were shaking it off like they were softball throws. Just disturbin', it was, with them ugly faces and the hissin', and Jayne started lookin' for a way to get over there and
help her.
Round about then, though, he found himself in a situation with the barstool feller-- turned out he had a friend. And he believed in hittin' people in the back. Jayne found that damn unfair when applied to himself.
"OW! Damnit. Sonuva--"
"Why won't you just fall down?" Jayne demanded. "I hit you three times already!"
"Well, why don't *you* fall down?" the guy snapped back. "Goddamn ape."
"'Cause I'm the deputy of this here town, and no bloodsuckin' yahoos from beyond the grave are gonna disturb the peace when I'm on duty to bust heads! And besides, you messed up my drinkin' time, and that makes me sore!"
Jayne's stool got broken into kindling at this point, so he picked up some beer bottles, smashed the necks, and started slashin' at his opponents with them. Even that wasn't doin' much; the glass would sink in, makin' the vamps snarl, but then the cuts would just seal up. Frustratin'.
"Hell, if that ain't gonna do it, what's it gonna take?"
"More than you've got," the shorter of the two vamps smirked, circling him while his buddy tried to kick Jayne's legs out from under him.
Which was when a cross-bow bolt whizzed by and buried itself in the chest of the smart-ass in front of him. He had time for a surprised look and a gasp of "Well, shit," before he dissolved into a cloud of dust.
"Well okay then!" Jayne chortled, gettin' an idea. Grabbing the remains of the barstool, he started using the pieces as nunchuks and makeshift daggers, stabbing the one feller in the stomach. The vamp wasn't best pleased about that, but it still wasn't stoppin' him.
"Like *this*," said a small condescending voice.
*POOF*
The vampire disappeared in a puff as the careful hand on Jayne's corrected his downstroke.
Jayne staggered, then got back his balance and his breath when he saw who it was. "Thank you! And Jesus, what're you doin' here? Mal's gonna kill you, me, then me again, damnit!"
"Returning this."
The doc's crazy sister smiled that know-it-all nutso smile, and used Jayne's lighter (that's where it got to, he thought) to set fire to the shirt-tail of the vamp still standing. "Here," she said, tossing it to him as the vamp started screamin' and meltin' away. Outta the corner of his eye, Jayne could see a skinny little guy with multi-colored hair take out
another vamp up against the wall, driving a wooden stake home, then falling down coughing from the dust explosion.
People were stampedin' out the door, now that some of the bloodsuckers were down, all of the customers groanin', bleedin' and cryin'. And River, hell, she was doin' some stab-happy ballet on speed, twirlin' and spinnin' and hittin' whatever vamps were stupid enough to get in range.
Jayne was just poundin' in the head of one of the last vampires on the bar-- with Helen pourin' beer over him, then strikin' a match-- when he saw that skinny guy who came in with River get grabbed by the two she-devils he'd seen before.
"You! You did this, you little creep!" the brunette accused him, shaking the guy and then slamming him against the wall with her hand around his throat.
"Mostly just helping," wheezed the shrimp.
River stopped beating on one of the sorry-ass cowboy vamps, who crawled under a table to get away from her, and stalked over to the fang-faced women.
"Put him down," she said, her voice cold.
The redhead grimaced and tightened her hold on the guy. "Make us, baby bitch!"
Crazygirl shrugged. "Okay." One stake thrown, and poof, no more redhead. A cartwheel and a spin, with the brunette gapin' at her, then River yelled "Down!" and the shrimp ducked. Then River slammed that pointy stick into the brunette's cleavage, leavin' one last big pile of dust.
"And that's when y'all showed up!" Jayne said, holding a bar cloth to the cut on his head, sounding aggrieved.
Mal stared at him in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Hand to God, Mal, I ain't makin' it up--"
"Right." Mal scrubbed at his face, then slammed the patrol car door, locking River inside. "Get in the front. We'll sort this out at the station." He shook his head. "Least I can tell Simon I found his sister."
In the back of the car, River patted at the row of bruises around Oz's throat, and threw Mal and Zoe reproachful looks as the car pulled away from Helen Wheel's parking lot.
~!~
Mostly due to Perri, who helped me talk through exactly what happens in this section. Yargh, but I do hate action sequences. As usual, all comments welcomed welcomed welcomed.
When last we left our heroes: Mal had just freaked out Simon, Jayne, and Wash by having them help him and Zoe stake a rising vampire in the morgue. River and Oz had met up in the graveyard, where Oz explained Slayers and River explained the weirdness in the desert. At the end of that part, River & Oz were headed to the bar where Jayne was drinking his troubles away.
And now, back to our story. :>
Serenity, Nevada (10/18?)
by CLK
copyright 2005
Vampires. God damned vampires.
He wasn't nearly drunk enough to deal with this crap.
Jayne took another pull off his MGD and ignored the fight brewing two tables away. Helen Wheels' was jumping, with a buncha outta-town cowboys firing up the jukebox and hittin' on the women. But he had enough problems without babysitting the tourists lookin' for a fight. Another beer or so, and he might start knockin' heads just for something to *do*, damnit. 'Til then, he had to do some thinkin', which left him all resentful and shit.
Why in the Hell had Mal brought him in and told him the truth? He really hadn't wanted to know. Jayne figured it was just Mal's way of makin' sure Jayne didn't end up a brain-eatin' zombie one of these nights. Mostly so's Mal wouldn't have to be shootin' Jayne's brains out.
There were just some things a man wanted to be left in ignorance on. Knowing where his weapons were, and knowing where other people's weapons in Serenity were, Jayne figured his chances were better in town than hellin' off into the sunrise. Didn't mean he had to stay sober to think
about it. Somebody else could be deputy for a night.
Six beers in -- he blamed that later for the double take -- the customer gettin' a beer from Helen didn't seem to even be there in the mirror. He blinked, and figured six beers would make things go just that fuzzy.
Wait a minute.
Jayne's well-used sense of self-preservation contradicted the alcohol.
That man don't have a reflection. Which makes him the same as that thing in the morgue. And that's just all kinds of wrong.
Therefore, as soon as the fella looked away from the mirror, Jayne punched him out. The tourist fell back on his keister, momentarily stunned--
Then sneered up at him, face full of pointy teeth, glowy eyes, and bug-ugly bumps pushin' to the front. And not much hurt, neither.
"Aw, hellfire. Helen? Duck!"
Helen, smart ol' gal that she was, took cover as Jayne picked up a barstool and crashed it down on the tourist's noggin, letting the vamp have it. Sorta. Any other fella woulda been down for the count, damnit, but this one was gettin' back up.
The fight already being started, hell decided it was time to break loose-- in the form of the other seven tourists with the sharp-toothed yellow-eyed thing goin' on. Screamin' and yellin' and general mayhem commenced.
The slinky redhead he'd been eyein' by the jukebox earlier was kickin' one of the truckers like she was one of them ninjas, snarlin' through her fangs, and the brunette chica she'd been talking to before the fight chomped on the neck of the cowboy buyin' her beers. In between trading punches, Jayne saw she had blood dribblin' outta her mouth, and it damn well gave him the shivers.
Helen was deployin' her shotgun into the chests of two of the things comin' at her over the bar now, but they were shaking it off like they were softball throws. Just disturbin', it was, with them ugly faces and the hissin', and Jayne started lookin' for a way to get over there and
help her.
Round about then, though, he found himself in a situation with the barstool feller-- turned out he had a friend. And he believed in hittin' people in the back. Jayne found that damn unfair when applied to himself.
"OW! Damnit. Sonuva--"
"Why won't you just fall down?" Jayne demanded. "I hit you three times already!"
"Well, why don't *you* fall down?" the guy snapped back. "Goddamn ape."
"'Cause I'm the deputy of this here town, and no bloodsuckin' yahoos from beyond the grave are gonna disturb the peace when I'm on duty to bust heads! And besides, you messed up my drinkin' time, and that makes me sore!"
Jayne's stool got broken into kindling at this point, so he picked up some beer bottles, smashed the necks, and started slashin' at his opponents with them. Even that wasn't doin' much; the glass would sink in, makin' the vamps snarl, but then the cuts would just seal up. Frustratin'.
"Hell, if that ain't gonna do it, what's it gonna take?"
"More than you've got," the shorter of the two vamps smirked, circling him while his buddy tried to kick Jayne's legs out from under him.
Which was when a cross-bow bolt whizzed by and buried itself in the chest of the smart-ass in front of him. He had time for a surprised look and a gasp of "Well, shit," before he dissolved into a cloud of dust.
"Well okay then!" Jayne chortled, gettin' an idea. Grabbing the remains of the barstool, he started using the pieces as nunchuks and makeshift daggers, stabbing the one feller in the stomach. The vamp wasn't best pleased about that, but it still wasn't stoppin' him.
"Like *this*," said a small condescending voice.
*POOF*
The vampire disappeared in a puff as the careful hand on Jayne's corrected his downstroke.
Jayne staggered, then got back his balance and his breath when he saw who it was. "Thank you! And Jesus, what're you doin' here? Mal's gonna kill you, me, then me again, damnit!"
"Returning this."
The doc's crazy sister smiled that know-it-all nutso smile, and used Jayne's lighter (that's where it got to, he thought) to set fire to the shirt-tail of the vamp still standing. "Here," she said, tossing it to him as the vamp started screamin' and meltin' away. Outta the corner of his eye, Jayne could see a skinny little guy with multi-colored hair take out
another vamp up against the wall, driving a wooden stake home, then falling down coughing from the dust explosion.
People were stampedin' out the door, now that some of the bloodsuckers were down, all of the customers groanin', bleedin' and cryin'. And River, hell, she was doin' some stab-happy ballet on speed, twirlin' and spinnin' and hittin' whatever vamps were stupid enough to get in range.
Jayne was just poundin' in the head of one of the last vampires on the bar-- with Helen pourin' beer over him, then strikin' a match-- when he saw that skinny guy who came in with River get grabbed by the two she-devils he'd seen before.
"You! You did this, you little creep!" the brunette accused him, shaking the guy and then slamming him against the wall with her hand around his throat.
"Mostly just helping," wheezed the shrimp.
River stopped beating on one of the sorry-ass cowboy vamps, who crawled under a table to get away from her, and stalked over to the fang-faced women.
"Put him down," she said, her voice cold.
The redhead grimaced and tightened her hold on the guy. "Make us, baby bitch!"
Crazygirl shrugged. "Okay." One stake thrown, and poof, no more redhead. A cartwheel and a spin, with the brunette gapin' at her, then River yelled "Down!" and the shrimp ducked. Then River slammed that pointy stick into the brunette's cleavage, leavin' one last big pile of dust.
"And that's when y'all showed up!" Jayne said, holding a bar cloth to the cut on his head, sounding aggrieved.
Mal stared at him in disbelief. "You've gotta be kidding me."
"Hand to God, Mal, I ain't makin' it up--"
"Right." Mal scrubbed at his face, then slammed the patrol car door, locking River inside. "Get in the front. We'll sort this out at the station." He shook his head. "Least I can tell Simon I found his sister."
In the back of the car, River patted at the row of bruises around Oz's throat, and threw Mal and Zoe reproachful looks as the car pulled away from Helen Wheel's parking lot.
~!~