Mal/Jayne, Bedevil: Chapter 1
Bedevil Organizational Post
As he sat at the table watching the others, Jayne couldn’t help but think that something was terribly wrong with the ‘verse. Drinking, laughing and carrying on as they was, no one else would ever think that.
But see, that was part of the problem.
Earlier in the week their job on Paquin had gone off without a hitch; the buyers hadn’t tried to swindle them, nor even haggle down the price. Just handed over the pay in exchange for the cargo and whistled as they walked away. Made Jayne’s fingers itch, it did, but he knew he could count on the Twins to try and start something by claiming more than their fair share.
Only they didn’t.
Fanty took the bag, counted out thirty percent and Mingo made arrangements for Serenity’s crew to handle another job, this one for Badger. Seems they had something of Badger’s, something that Patience wanted, and they needed Serenity’s crew to take it to her.
A cake-walk job which also went clockwork.
Watching that exchange made Jayne’s eye twitch; after all, if he couldn’t count on that crotchety old broad to shoot Mal, who could he? So, during the trek to Persephone he worked off his frustration on his weight bench and counted down the hours till the limey hun dan tried to pull a fast one on the Captain; Jayne figured that if he did, Mal would finally let him pop the guy in his smart little mouth.
Except, the middle man was disgustingly gracious.
He took an even smaller than normal percentage for the job and invited both Jayne and Mal to dinner. A dinner where no one got stabbed with a fork, spit on, or even insulted.
The whole situation was starting to damage his calm.
Right now they were all in this bar, celebrating for no good reason. Simon hadn’t said anything remotely boob-ish in more than a day, River wasn’t being loud or creepifying, Inara and Zoe actually laughed at his lewd comment, and Kaylee promised him a whole batch of her engine-shine.
And to top it all off, Mal had given him a raise.
No, it wasn’t much-only another two percent, and only for this last job. But still, Jayne was worried. And worrying kept him off his game, letting whore after whore pass him by without giving a-one so much as a double take. Slowly, one by one, each of the crew left to pursue their own agendas--whatever they might be--until only Mal remained with him at the table, his hands wrapped around his empty glass.
Finally, Mal turned to him and asked, “You want another? I’m buying.”
As he sat at the table watching the others, Jayne couldn’t help but think that something was terribly wrong with the ‘verse. Drinking, laughing and carrying on as they was, no one else would ever think that.
But see, that was part of the problem.
Earlier in the week their job on Paquin had gone off without a hitch; the buyers hadn’t tried to swindle them, nor even haggle down the price. Just handed over the pay in exchange for the cargo and whistled as they walked away. Made Jayne’s fingers itch, it did, but he knew he could count on the Twins to try and start something by claiming more than their fair share.
Only they didn’t.
Fanty took the bag, counted out thirty percent and Mingo made arrangements for Serenity’s crew to handle another job, this one for Badger. Seems they had something of Badger’s, something that Patience wanted, and they needed Serenity’s crew to take it to her.
A cake-walk job which also went clockwork.
Watching that exchange made Jayne’s eye twitch; after all, if he couldn’t count on that crotchety old broad to shoot Mal, who could he? So, during the trek to Persephone he worked off his frustration on his weight bench and counted down the hours till the limey hun dan tried to pull a fast one on the Captain; Jayne figured that if he did, Mal would finally let him pop the guy in his smart little mouth.
Except, the middle man was disgustingly gracious.
He took an even smaller than normal percentage for the job and invited both Jayne and Mal to dinner. A dinner where no one got stabbed with a fork, spit on, or even insulted.
The whole situation was starting to damage his calm.
Right now they were all in this bar, celebrating for no good reason. Simon hadn’t said anything remotely boob-ish in more than a day, River wasn’t being loud or creepifying, Inara and Zoe actually laughed at his lewd comment, and Kaylee promised him a whole batch of her engine-shine.
And to top it all off, Mal had given him a raise.
No, it wasn’t much-only another two percent, and only for this last job. But still, Jayne was worried. And worrying kept him off his game, letting whore after whore pass him by without giving a-one so much as a double take. Slowly, one by one, each of the crew left to pursue their own agendas--whatever they might be--until only Mal remained with him at the table, his hands wrapped around his empty glass.
Finally, Mal turned to him and asked, “You want another? I’m buying.”