(no subject)

Dec 26, 2005 08:25

Title: Breaking All The Rules
Pairing: Mal/Jayne, tiny Simon/Jayne ref
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: T'weren't me that created 'em.
Summary: Mal's looking for the man they call Jayne for
some help.
Notes: Written for cathybites who wanted
Mal/Jayne in a high-school-AU set in
present-time/place Firefly.

*

Step around a dark shadow in this place - that is, if
you can even find a gorram dark space in the
angelically lit hallways, like it’s s’posed to be some
version of heaven and not the hell that really is high
school - and you’ll find him. He’s a legend and Mal’s
looking for someone legendary. Supposedly, he once
took on a gang of six from the outer planets and lived
to tell the tale. Mal supposes there ain’t much truth
to those myths, after all, he’s a living, breathing,
strapping nineteen year old male pumping full of manly
testosterone and apparently, he’s killed two Reavers
in his time. Funny ol’ worlds and how they work.

“Everyone says you’re the man to talk to.”

He finds the man they call Jayne smoking behind the
entrance, bathed in shadows and keeping an eye out,
but Mal’s learned to be sneaky. Gets him out of class
and gets him away from Kaylee when she’s having a
rather emotional day of it.

“You didn’t see me here, dong ma?” Jayne growls and
puts out his cigarette. “Last time I got caught for
smoking, there was a week of payin’ for it.”

Jayne likes to bend the rules, that’s fact. Makes Mal
like the man. A good rule-bender could be a good ally.

“Hear you deal in trades,” Mal starts casually,
leaning against the wall like they’re two buddies
having a good ol’ discussion ‘bout the state of
affairs. “I’m looking for something.
Something…particular.”

Jayne grins, lets out a good laugh like he knows how
to enjoy life. “You’re Mal, ain’t ya? I heard about
you. Hear you’re a real ladies man,” he says, glancing
around. The next class won’t start for a while and
while Mal’s got a slim book tucked under his arm,
Jayne’s got nothing. Then again, probably explained by
the fact that Jayne’s been in this high school two
years longer than the oldest senior. Bellerophon High,
home of two thousand students trying to get away.

“That’d be me, who’s been talking?”

“Inara, she spreads some vile rumors ‘bout you,” Jayne
says with a sort of morbid glee. “The genius girl, the
young ‘un, River. She just rambles on ‘bout how you’re
bad. And stories go that Zoe calls you ‘Sir’.” The
grin turns into a leer and Mal has a good mind to
smack it off Jayne’s face. “Is that an open offer,
Sir?” Jayne tries it and Mal shoots him a look that
might kill Alliance, were there any nearby - though
word has it that the teachers are Alliance-paid.

Mal smiles, gives Jayne a nice sense of false-calm
before he turns and presses him to the wall hard,
elbow pressing up against Jayne’s windpipe. He’s still
smiling as Jayne starts to choke and protest, body
slipping against the wall, and the beard on his face -
boy trying to look like a man - rubs against Mal’s arm
while Mal -- who is also a year older than the oldest
senior - stares him in the eyes.

“I need something,” he says quietly, all the gravitas
of a man doing business in his voice. “And you’re
gonna get it for me.”

Jayne nods fervently. “Yeah, okay…” he wheezes. “Mal!”
he protests. “Lemme go. Anything!”

Mal eases away just enough so that Jayne can talk. “I
need a weapon.” Jayne seems to get a sort of
calculating look in his eyes and it’s a little bit
painful, trying to watch that man calculate - story
goes he’s failed math more times than Inara’s taken on
‘clients’, busy girl she is.

“What about my prices?”

“They’re high. Unfair. You’re robbing the population
and while I’d generally approve, I don’t when I’m a
part of that population,” Mal says evenly, easing away
and slowly pushing his long browncoat to the side to
reveal a gun. “Now she…she is a beauty,” he says
lovingly as Jayne collapses, bent over at the knees to
catch his breath - it only takes him a second and he’s
back up again. “But she’s not disposable enough for
the job I have in mind. Don’t want to kill, just need
to stun.”

“What’re you planning?” Jayne asks, his voice hoarse.

Mal’s whole face lights up. “I’m passing exams this
year,” he announces, a man on a mission. “No matter
what.”

Jayne opens his mouth and Mal rolls his eyes, ‘my
prices’ probably still on Jayne’s tongue, but Mal
leans in and shoves Jayne against the wall again --
one hand groping roughly against Jayne’s crotch -- and
lunges in for a fierce kiss. It shuts him up and makes
him whimper nice and quiet-like and Mal eases away,
smirking because God knows he’s got his talents in the
field of kissing.

Jayne’s eyes are wide and Mal leans in once more to
seal the deal, kiss him and rock his hips against
Jayne’s with enough force to cause friction and to
make those twenty seconds as memorable as can gorram
be.

“Your prices aren’t reasonable,” Mal says evenly,
brushing his thumb over his lip. “But tell you what.
Get me what I want and I’ll give you a little more of
that.” And what willing, strapping young man would
refuse a good roll in the bunk, no matter the giver.
Mal ain’t gonna lose any coin over this one and Jayne
wouldn’t say a peep for reputation’s sake. And the
stories go that Jayne definitely likes a go in the
bunk, stories say that’s why he failed the first time
around - too distracted by all the pretty folk to
properly pay attention to his studies, rumors swirled
about an affair with the Doc before he’d graduated
like the little genius he was, three years early.

Fair’s fair and all, and the way Jayne’s pretty
breathless, seems like Mal’s payment is more than
fair. Which is good, because Mal really would have
hated to start doing some shooting.

And maybe, just maybe, Mal will share the answer-key
with Jayne when he gets his hands on it.
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