Namesake - A Firefly fic - Ch 12
Title: Namesake
Rating: T
Fandom: Firefly
Summary: Jayne put extreme sentimental value on his favorite gun, but revisiting the past reveals there is more to Vera than just a name.
Fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7722746/12/Namesake
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11
12
"I don't have to be no 'reader' to get that. I can put two and two together," Mal said, crossing his arms.
"Can he?" Simon gestured, his eyes sliding from the captain and through the glass window into the infirmary.
Jayne stood solemnly next to Vera, watching her try to keep all of her emotion bottled up as she looked over her son laid out on the examination chair. Victor was deathly still. The rise and fall of his chest was hardly noticeable, and if it weren't for the persistent beeping of some machine, Jayne would've sworn the kid was dead. He averted his eyes - all the wires and tubes stuffed into that unmoving body made him feel restless. Watching the kid sleep wasn't going to wake him up any faster -if at all- but that didn't seem to matter to Vera, who had let a rogue tear slip down her cheek.
Mal and Simon peered though the window, almost in awe as Jayne reluctantly raised his arm and stiffly wrapped it around Vera's shoulders. The gesture -as awkward as it was- was too much for the stoic little woman to bear, and she finally broke down, burrowing her face into Jayne's chest to muffle her cries.
"You wanna broach the subject with him?" Mal asked wryly.
Simon went pale at the thought. "You know, it's really none of my business."
"Wise decision," Mal smirked. "Though I have to admit, if that math is addin' up right, Jayne is bein' mighty big about it. Would've thought he'd be runnin' right about now."
Patting Vera on the back, Jayne slipped out of her sobbing clutch, leaving her to wipe her eyes on her sleeve as he stepped from the room. Closing the infirmary door behind him, he grimaced down at the tear-soaked wet patches on his shirt.
"So when are we gettin' off this gorram rock?"
Mal raised his brow and shifted his eyes toward Simon to meet the doctor's gaping expression.
Catching the silent exchange, Jayne sneered. "What you all lookin' at me like that for? We didn't sign up for none of this."
Mal paused, pursing his lips as he thought. "He's right..."
"You can't be serious," Simon gasped, unable to comprehend the captain's sudden apathy.
"We came to make a trade. Unfortunately, that little show down interrupted the transaction before I could get my hands on our share. But we held up our end of the deal...sure as hell gonna get paid for it and there's nothing more to it than that."
"Damn straight!" cheered Jayne, happy to hear Mal was taking his side for once.
"But what about..." Simon trailed, looking off towards Victor's comatose body.
Mal bit his cheek. "You said the kid will be stable enough to move in the morning, right?"
"Leng xue za zhong! If he even makes it through the night!" Simon objected with outrage.
"Let's be optimistic, Doctor...surly don't suit you. We'll get our affairs in order, fuel up, then break atmo before the day's end."
Jayne tipped his chin with a quick glance towards the infirmary, catching himself abruptly and turning away with a heavy plod down the hall. "Sounds like good enough a plan to me. The sooner we're back in the black, the better.
oOo
Mikas aimed his shotgun into the air, pulling the trigger steadily at the pause between breaths. The bang echoed through the mountains and the old spaniel sniffing around his heels, sped off through the trees, slipping on its hind legs as it shuffled up the leaf-ridden ridge.
"I think you got it!" Jayne called to him, lowering his gun and looking off into the distance.
"Well, don't just stand there! Hurry up and go on after it!" Vera prodded her brother excitedly. "That dumb mutt is likely to run off a cliff before retrievin' the damn thing!"
Throwing his gun over his shoulder, Mikas hustled after the dog, treading backwards a few paces as he looked at his sister smugly. "Told you I'd get the first quail of the season!"
"You ain't got it yet!" she teased, watching him disappear through the foliage.
Jayne pulled his shotgun sling over his head and leaned the firearm snugly in course grooves of a crooked, old tree. With anxious fingers, he rummaged through his hunting satchel, curling his lip with dismay as he counted his shells. "Grabbed the wrong box...only got four shot left...rest are double-aughts. Might have to go for some bigger game…wait...nah, a ratshot won't do me no good..."
Vera set her gun down next to his, paying little attention to his grumbling as she watched him attempt to dig deeper into his canvas bag. Studying his face, she noticed that the purple bruises under his eye had started to fade and stitches on his cheek had scabbed over into a tight red arc. Despite his best efforts not to scratch at it, his hand often found it's way up to his face, brushing his knuckle against the mark.
"Don't pick at it. It'll scar."
"Doc said it's gonna leave a scar anyway," he muttered, still occupied by the ammunition rattling around in the satchel.
"Well, you want it to heal up right, don't ya?" she scolded him, prying his fingers away from the wound.
Meeting her eyes, he felt her hand linger on his. Nervously, she pulled away, biting her lip and quickly dropping her gaze to the ground. "I don't think I ever thanked you for stickin' up for me. No one's ever done anything like that before..."
Jayne raised his brow, befuddled by the tunneling anticipation between them as Vera lifted her eyes to his again and reached up on her tippy-toes to place a sweet, longing kiss on his lips. His body tensed as a flush of conflicting emotion muddled together in his head, in his stomach, in his veins- leaving him uneasy and wooden. And as they parted, Vera's smile faded with the sobering sting of rejection. He willed himself to speak, but instead just wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as she turned, defeated, with a quivering breath.
"You ain't ugly," he finally managed to stammer from behind, catching a glimpse of the glower from over her shoulder. "What Coop said...he said you were ugly. You ain't. Far from it."
Slowly, her expression warmed.
"Just, I know women get sore 'bout those things..."
Twisting her lips into a coy smirk, she threw her hands on her hips. "Well, ain't you just the perfect gentleman..."
"Not so sure about that," he said, pulling her close with a rough jerk of her arm, holding her tight against his chest as he craned his neck down to finally reciprocate her kiss. Running his hand through her hair, he raised her up in his arms as she pecked at his face lustfully with her soft, honeyed lips. Their mouths wet, he gnawed with a great thirst, gasping for air with warm, short breaths.
The approaching bark of the dog startled them and Vera hopped down in panic, distancing herself from Jayne, and quickly adjusting her dress so as not to look in disarray- though her cheeks were still flushed and her hair slightly mussed. Mikas appeared through the thick of trees, he raising his kill in the air and showing off the quail with a confident smile.
"What do you say t' that?" Mikas gloated, completely oblivious to the bashful restraint settling in the air.
"You sure bagged that bird," Vera replied, sending Jayne a sultry wink as she scooped her shotgun back into her arms and turned her back as though nothing had happened between them. But Jayne could still taste her on his lips and feel her in his loins as he watched her run her hands along the forend of her weapon. She was a challenge- a siren fitted with a long gun and paddock boots- and he'd never encountered anyone who could make him feel so strong, yet so small all at once.
"Clydesdale, you comin'?"
Mikas' voice broke Jayne's stare and he realized they had marched a good twenty paces ahead of him, leaving him lumbering alone in the clearing.
"Uh...yeah," he stumbled, urging them on as he grabbed his gun from against the tree and discreetly slid his satchel forward to hang covertly down his front.
Rating: T
Fandom: Firefly
Summary: Jayne put extreme sentimental value on his favorite gun, but revisiting the past reveals there is more to Vera than just a name.
Fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/7722746/12/Namesake
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11
12
"I don't have to be no 'reader' to get that. I can put two and two together," Mal said, crossing his arms.
"Can he?" Simon gestured, his eyes sliding from the captain and through the glass window into the infirmary.
Jayne stood solemnly next to Vera, watching her try to keep all of her emotion bottled up as she looked over her son laid out on the examination chair. Victor was deathly still. The rise and fall of his chest was hardly noticeable, and if it weren't for the persistent beeping of some machine, Jayne would've sworn the kid was dead. He averted his eyes - all the wires and tubes stuffed into that unmoving body made him feel restless. Watching the kid sleep wasn't going to wake him up any faster -if at all- but that didn't seem to matter to Vera, who had let a rogue tear slip down her cheek.
Mal and Simon peered though the window, almost in awe as Jayne reluctantly raised his arm and stiffly wrapped it around Vera's shoulders. The gesture -as awkward as it was- was too much for the stoic little woman to bear, and she finally broke down, burrowing her face into Jayne's chest to muffle her cries.
"You wanna broach the subject with him?" Mal asked wryly.
Simon went pale at the thought. "You know, it's really none of my business."
"Wise decision," Mal smirked. "Though I have to admit, if that math is addin' up right, Jayne is bein' mighty big about it. Would've thought he'd be runnin' right about now."
Patting Vera on the back, Jayne slipped out of her sobbing clutch, leaving her to wipe her eyes on her sleeve as he stepped from the room. Closing the infirmary door behind him, he grimaced down at the tear-soaked wet patches on his shirt.
"So when are we gettin' off this gorram rock?"
Mal raised his brow and shifted his eyes toward Simon to meet the doctor's gaping expression.
Catching the silent exchange, Jayne sneered. "What you all lookin' at me like that for? We didn't sign up for none of this."
Mal paused, pursing his lips as he thought. "He's right..."
"You can't be serious," Simon gasped, unable to comprehend the captain's sudden apathy.
"We came to make a trade. Unfortunately, that little show down interrupted the transaction before I could get my hands on our share. But we held up our end of the deal...sure as hell gonna get paid for it and there's nothing more to it than that."
"Damn straight!" cheered Jayne, happy to hear Mal was taking his side for once.
"But what about..." Simon trailed, looking off towards Victor's comatose body.
Mal bit his cheek. "You said the kid will be stable enough to move in the morning, right?"
"Leng xue za zhong! If he even makes it through the night!" Simon objected with outrage.
"Let's be optimistic, Doctor...surly don't suit you. We'll get our affairs in order, fuel up, then break atmo before the day's end."
Jayne tipped his chin with a quick glance towards the infirmary, catching himself abruptly and turning away with a heavy plod down the hall. "Sounds like good enough a plan to me. The sooner we're back in the black, the better.
oOo
Mikas aimed his shotgun into the air, pulling the trigger steadily at the pause between breaths. The bang echoed through the mountains and the old spaniel sniffing around his heels, sped off through the trees, slipping on its hind legs as it shuffled up the leaf-ridden ridge.
"I think you got it!" Jayne called to him, lowering his gun and looking off into the distance.
"Well, don't just stand there! Hurry up and go on after it!" Vera prodded her brother excitedly. "That dumb mutt is likely to run off a cliff before retrievin' the damn thing!"
Throwing his gun over his shoulder, Mikas hustled after the dog, treading backwards a few paces as he looked at his sister smugly. "Told you I'd get the first quail of the season!"
"You ain't got it yet!" she teased, watching him disappear through the foliage.
Jayne pulled his shotgun sling over his head and leaned the firearm snugly in course grooves of a crooked, old tree. With anxious fingers, he rummaged through his hunting satchel, curling his lip with dismay as he counted his shells. "Grabbed the wrong box...only got four shot left...rest are double-aughts. Might have to go for some bigger game…wait...nah, a ratshot won't do me no good..."
Vera set her gun down next to his, paying little attention to his grumbling as she watched him attempt to dig deeper into his canvas bag. Studying his face, she noticed that the purple bruises under his eye had started to fade and stitches on his cheek had scabbed over into a tight red arc. Despite his best efforts not to scratch at it, his hand often found it's way up to his face, brushing his knuckle against the mark.
"Don't pick at it. It'll scar."
"Doc said it's gonna leave a scar anyway," he muttered, still occupied by the ammunition rattling around in the satchel.
"Well, you want it to heal up right, don't ya?" she scolded him, prying his fingers away from the wound.
Meeting her eyes, he felt her hand linger on his. Nervously, she pulled away, biting her lip and quickly dropping her gaze to the ground. "I don't think I ever thanked you for stickin' up for me. No one's ever done anything like that before..."
Jayne raised his brow, befuddled by the tunneling anticipation between them as Vera lifted her eyes to his again and reached up on her tippy-toes to place a sweet, longing kiss on his lips. His body tensed as a flush of conflicting emotion muddled together in his head, in his stomach, in his veins- leaving him uneasy and wooden. And as they parted, Vera's smile faded with the sobering sting of rejection. He willed himself to speak, but instead just wiped his mouth on the back of his hand as she turned, defeated, with a quivering breath.
"You ain't ugly," he finally managed to stammer from behind, catching a glimpse of the glower from over her shoulder. "What Coop said...he said you were ugly. You ain't. Far from it."
Slowly, her expression warmed.
"Just, I know women get sore 'bout those things..."
Twisting her lips into a coy smirk, she threw her hands on her hips. "Well, ain't you just the perfect gentleman..."
"Not so sure about that," he said, pulling her close with a rough jerk of her arm, holding her tight against his chest as he craned his neck down to finally reciprocate her kiss. Running his hand through her hair, he raised her up in his arms as she pecked at his face lustfully with her soft, honeyed lips. Their mouths wet, he gnawed with a great thirst, gasping for air with warm, short breaths.
The approaching bark of the dog startled them and Vera hopped down in panic, distancing herself from Jayne, and quickly adjusting her dress so as not to look in disarray- though her cheeks were still flushed and her hair slightly mussed. Mikas appeared through the thick of trees, he raising his kill in the air and showing off the quail with a confident smile.
"What do you say t' that?" Mikas gloated, completely oblivious to the bashful restraint settling in the air.
"You sure bagged that bird," Vera replied, sending Jayne a sultry wink as she scooped her shotgun back into her arms and turned her back as though nothing had happened between them. But Jayne could still taste her on his lips and feel her in his loins as he watched her run her hands along the forend of her weapon. She was a challenge- a siren fitted with a long gun and paddock boots- and he'd never encountered anyone who could make him feel so strong, yet so small all at once.
"Clydesdale, you comin'?"
Mikas' voice broke Jayne's stare and he realized they had marched a good twenty paces ahead of him, leaving him lumbering alone in the clearing.
"Uh...yeah," he stumbled, urging them on as he grabbed his gun from against the tree and discreetly slid his satchel forward to hang covertly down his front.