joss100 Challenge Ficlet: Blood
Title: Part of the Job
Author: cornfields
Rating: PG
Character(s): Jayne, River
Prompt: Blood
Word Count: 760
Spoilers: None that I can see.
Author's Note: Unbeta'd, but I think I kept better track of my tenses this time. :)
"You're covered in red," she whimpered. Her cold, dirty fingers skittered over the blood-soaked makeshift bandage wrapped round his middle.
"Ain't nuttin," he said in a gravelly whisper. "S' a clean shot, barely a graze. Not even bleedin' that much. Now rest your head, girl, try to get some sleep."
He caught her fluttering hand in his own, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. It was a damn clumsy gesture; he knew he needed a lesson or two in the "reassuring crazy girls" department.
"No," She shook her head, trying to pull her hand away in a panic. "They come when my eyes are shuttered, they need the dark to travel--"
"Shhh," he interrupted. He threaded his fingers through hers, pulled her down to curl against him. "They ain't gonna get their paws on you, crazy girl, s' long as I can hold a gun. Why you think the Captain sent you away with me?"
The moonlight that filtered down into their hiding place cast an eerie silvered glow over her features. He couldn't read the expression in her shadowed eyes, but his words seemed to calm her enough that she fit herself against his uninjured side and lay her head on his chest. He reached up and ran his hand through the silky fall of her hair.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she wondered out loud, her voice bitter. "The personality profiles do not match, you're not as advertised. It doesn't compute."
He chuckled, wrapping his other arm around her and resting his hand firmly on her hip. "C'mon, now, girl. You know I'm just doin' my job."
She lifted up her head and turned to face him until they were almost nose-to-nose. "Your job is to be her shield, her weapon. Being nice is not compulsory."
"You're right, it's not." He shrugged slightly, beginning to get a might uncomfortable. "Seems to me being nice to you ain't so bad; seems to make you cooperative-like. The more cooperative you are, the easier it is to do my job, dong ma?"
She turned away at last and laid her head back down on his chest. "You're a liar." she said in a sulky tone. "You're a fake."
"What now?" He tried to sit up, but the weight of Moonbrain and the pain in his side kept him pinned to the ground. He raised his voice. "That's a downright ugly thing to say to the man who just took a gorram bullet for you."
"That was a lie, too," she scoffed. "All part of the job."
"What in the name of all that's holy do you want from me, girl?" he demanded. "I'll have you know that bullet hurt like a sumbitch."
"You're her shield," she repeated, darkly. "A piece of meat to bleed for her, to take her bruises."
He stared up at the stars, hurt beyond all reason, and beginning to feel helpless at her fit of pique. He wasn't quite sure what he'd said to make her so gorram mad, but he figured it had something to do with him taking that bullet for her. "I just can't figure what you want from me, girl." he said at last, shaking his head.
She was quiet for a long while, her breathing so slow and even that he assumed she'd fallen asleep. Without knowing quite what possessed him, he pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. If he hadn't been aching, bruised and bleeding in about forty different places -- or on the run for their lives -- he figured he'd almost appreciate the feel of her in his arms, draped over his chest, tucked against his side. With that altogether disturbing thought, he began to drift into sleep.
"What I want is inconsequential." she spoke suddenly, her voice soft.
He started, cursing. "I thought you were asleep! You scared the bejesus outta me!" he groused, giving her a stern squeeze.
"Sorry, Jayne." she said meekly.
"Well, show me you're sorry by going to sleep like a good little crazy girl." he said in an irritated tone of voice.
She yawned. "She will go to sleep now."
"Promise?"
"She promises."
"'Night, then."
Without warning she lifted her head, turned, and gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. She then re-settled herself and draped her arm over his middle, careful of his injury. "Goodnight, Jayne."
It was a very long time before his thoughts calmed enough for sleep to claim him.
==
Chinese:
Dong ma = Understand
Author: cornfields
Rating: PG
Character(s): Jayne, River
Prompt: Blood
Word Count: 760
Spoilers: None that I can see.
Author's Note: Unbeta'd, but I think I kept better track of my tenses this time. :)
"You're covered in red," she whimpered. Her cold, dirty fingers skittered over the blood-soaked makeshift bandage wrapped round his middle.
"Ain't nuttin," he said in a gravelly whisper. "S' a clean shot, barely a graze. Not even bleedin' that much. Now rest your head, girl, try to get some sleep."
He caught her fluttering hand in his own, giving it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze. It was a damn clumsy gesture; he knew he needed a lesson or two in the "reassuring crazy girls" department.
"No," She shook her head, trying to pull her hand away in a panic. "They come when my eyes are shuttered, they need the dark to travel--"
"Shhh," he interrupted. He threaded his fingers through hers, pulled her down to curl against him. "They ain't gonna get their paws on you, crazy girl, s' long as I can hold a gun. Why you think the Captain sent you away with me?"
The moonlight that filtered down into their hiding place cast an eerie silvered glow over her features. He couldn't read the expression in her shadowed eyes, but his words seemed to calm her enough that she fit herself against his uninjured side and lay her head on his chest. He reached up and ran his hand through the silky fall of her hair.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" she wondered out loud, her voice bitter. "The personality profiles do not match, you're not as advertised. It doesn't compute."
He chuckled, wrapping his other arm around her and resting his hand firmly on her hip. "C'mon, now, girl. You know I'm just doin' my job."
She lifted up her head and turned to face him until they were almost nose-to-nose. "Your job is to be her shield, her weapon. Being nice is not compulsory."
"You're right, it's not." He shrugged slightly, beginning to get a might uncomfortable. "Seems to me being nice to you ain't so bad; seems to make you cooperative-like. The more cooperative you are, the easier it is to do my job, dong ma?"
She turned away at last and laid her head back down on his chest. "You're a liar." she said in a sulky tone. "You're a fake."
"What now?" He tried to sit up, but the weight of Moonbrain and the pain in his side kept him pinned to the ground. He raised his voice. "That's a downright ugly thing to say to the man who just took a gorram bullet for you."
"That was a lie, too," she scoffed. "All part of the job."
"What in the name of all that's holy do you want from me, girl?" he demanded. "I'll have you know that bullet hurt like a sumbitch."
"You're her shield," she repeated, darkly. "A piece of meat to bleed for her, to take her bruises."
He stared up at the stars, hurt beyond all reason, and beginning to feel helpless at her fit of pique. He wasn't quite sure what he'd said to make her so gorram mad, but he figured it had something to do with him taking that bullet for her. "I just can't figure what you want from me, girl." he said at last, shaking his head.
She was quiet for a long while, her breathing so slow and even that he assumed she'd fallen asleep. Without knowing quite what possessed him, he pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head and breathed in the scent of her hair. If he hadn't been aching, bruised and bleeding in about forty different places -- or on the run for their lives -- he figured he'd almost appreciate the feel of her in his arms, draped over his chest, tucked against his side. With that altogether disturbing thought, he began to drift into sleep.
"What I want is inconsequential." she spoke suddenly, her voice soft.
He started, cursing. "I thought you were asleep! You scared the bejesus outta me!" he groused, giving her a stern squeeze.
"Sorry, Jayne." she said meekly.
"Well, show me you're sorry by going to sleep like a good little crazy girl." he said in an irritated tone of voice.
She yawned. "She will go to sleep now."
"Promise?"
"She promises."
"'Night, then."
Without warning she lifted her head, turned, and gave him a quick, chaste kiss on the lips. She then re-settled herself and draped her arm over his middle, careful of his injury. "Goodnight, Jayne."
It was a very long time before his thoughts calmed enough for sleep to claim him.
==
Chinese:
Dong ma = Understand