Pre-series Jayne
Title: Part of the family
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Series
Characters: Jayne, crew
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: A snurched prompt from
ana_grrl's Back to Firefly Ficathon!... Describe Jayne's first night on Serenity.
Jayne Cobb threw his duffle on the bunk and took a good look around. Biggest bunk he had ever had all to himself. Wall next to the bunk looked to be perfect for hanging his girls. A sink and latrine opposite, no sharing with some wángbadàn, nope, just him and his girls. His lip curled in a feral grin.
Years of working for the low man on the totem pole had taught him how to survive on less than nothing, but this here boat was a step up. Captain Malcolm Reynolds was some sort a feng kuang Browncoat, First Mate a real fine lookin’ woman, deadly, but fine. He smiled broadly at that thought. This could turn into a real nice situation.
Free run of the galley, ten percent cut on jobs, his own room. Hell yeah he shot Marco in the leg. He knew a good deal when he saw one. His thoughts were interrupted by the Captain calling down to him, “Dinner in five minutes Cobb.”
He grunted assent, “Yeah, be right there.” Dinner, free! Gonna have to watch that he don’t become soft with that kind of free food.
The galley was half drab grey and half warm yellow with little painted flowers and vines curling up the walls. There was the Captain at the head of the table, First Mate to his right, a sweet lookin’ little girly thing next to her and a blond fella with a broad grin on his face opposite them.
“Jayne Cobb, you remember Zoë Alleyne here,” The Captain gestured to his right, “First Mate, next to her is our mechanic, Kaywinnit Lee Frye, Kaylee; and across there is Wash, our pilot. Folks this here is our new gunhand.”
“Nice ta meet ya.” Kaylee nearly bounced up to greet Jayne, her face bright with a big smile and twinkling eyes.
“Hey there little girl.” He replied, still getting a lay of the land. He took a chair next to the pilot who turned and reached out his hand to shake. Jayne looked at the proffered hand for a moment, face carefully blank, before accepting it.
“Hi, Hoban Washburne, Wash, at your service. Friendly getaway driver and good humor man!” Wash grinned broadly as they shook hands.
“Yeah, well, hi then.” Jayne replied, uncertain of how to relate to the obviously good natured man beside him. Weren’t right sure about the pilot’s brightly colored shirt neither. Good thing he didn’t go out on jobs Jayne figured- get up like that would get a man shot more often than not. On top of that a lip caterpillar just completed the ridiculous look.
“Captain, we got coordinates for the drop off tomorrow?” The First Mate, Zoë asked. She had barely nodded hello to the big mercenary before returning to her dinner and the question.
Everyone turned to the meal, mostly protein and few vegetables thrown into a stew. Jayne set to eating, tuning out the conversation around him. The air was warm, the food pretty tasty for being mostly rehydrated powder. The girl mechanic across from him chattered away about how shiny some new engine adjustment will be once the Captain buys some part she is begging for. Wasn’t every day he had met a girl so cheerful it nearly made his teeth hurt.
Jayne hadn’t enjoyed a sit down meal with people who laughed and joked sincerely since he left home almost twenty years ago. There was an unreality to it. The voices filled the empty spaces, food on his plate, enough to make him feel full, and warmth. It takes him a while to figure out what this reminds him of, a family. He stops short of shoveling a bite into his mouth at that realization. This boat was a family. Well, he weren’t gonna be one a’ them, no sir’re, he had a job, food, and a bunk, didn’t need no family on top a’ that.
Jayne went to his bunk after dinner to hang his girls, write his Ma and contemplate where in the ‘verse he had landed himself.
~~~~~
“Jayne, get your carcass out of bed and come help unloading this cargo!” Mal’s voice was loud and angry. Jayne groaned, rolled over on his bunk. His head was pounding, the taste in his mouth was of sour whiskey and cheap cigars.
“Comin’ Mal.” Jayne rubbed his eyes tiredly, gorramn Captain was a ruttin’ morning person. Fantastic he thought bleakly. A gorramn morning person.
He had been on the crew for less than a month and knew enough to not talk back to the Captain most times. Course, there were times when the words were leaving his mouth before his brain had a chance to look at them. There had been more than one unpleasant chore assigned to him for those times.
~~~~~
After a few years he still hadn’t gotten the hang of keeping his mouth shut when Mal was in a yelling mood. More often than it was worth keeping a tally of, Mal threatened to toss Jayne out the airlock. Neither man seemed perturbed by that potentiality, it just became part of their normal dialogue. Course, Jayne was aware in his more lucid moments that the Mal may actually have it in him. Never met a man so set in his ideals as the ex-soldier. Jayne was fair certain Mal would kill him if it ever came to it. He had to respect that even though it made him a mite bit anxious sometimes.
Weren’t gonna be dwellin’ on that concept though… there was another new body comin’ onboard to see ‘bout renting one a’ the shuttles. Jayne figured on it bein’ some other Rim bred folk lookin’ ta se the ‘verse. Mood dark, he crawled out of his bunk and went ta help Mal in the cargo bay… Wasn’t lookin’ up when she came onboard, but he smelled her right away… jasmine and sandalwood drifted past him. His tracker’s mind categorized the scent before his brain registered the reality of who may be wearing such perfume… He swung his head up with a snap to see a Companion, a gorramn Core bred Companion, standing in the cargo bay…
Hell, maybe he did want ta be part a’ the family after all…
wángbadàn, bastard
feng kuang crazy, insane
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Series
Characters: Jayne, crew
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: A snurched prompt from
ana_grrl's Back to Firefly Ficathon!... Describe Jayne's first night on Serenity.
Jayne Cobb threw his duffle on the bunk and took a good look around. Biggest bunk he had ever had all to himself. Wall next to the bunk looked to be perfect for hanging his girls. A sink and latrine opposite, no sharing with some wángbadàn, nope, just him and his girls. His lip curled in a feral grin.
Years of working for the low man on the totem pole had taught him how to survive on less than nothing, but this here boat was a step up. Captain Malcolm Reynolds was some sort a feng kuang Browncoat, First Mate a real fine lookin’ woman, deadly, but fine. He smiled broadly at that thought. This could turn into a real nice situation.
Free run of the galley, ten percent cut on jobs, his own room. Hell yeah he shot Marco in the leg. He knew a good deal when he saw one. His thoughts were interrupted by the Captain calling down to him, “Dinner in five minutes Cobb.”
He grunted assent, “Yeah, be right there.” Dinner, free! Gonna have to watch that he don’t become soft with that kind of free food.
The galley was half drab grey and half warm yellow with little painted flowers and vines curling up the walls. There was the Captain at the head of the table, First Mate to his right, a sweet lookin’ little girly thing next to her and a blond fella with a broad grin on his face opposite them.
“Jayne Cobb, you remember Zoë Alleyne here,” The Captain gestured to his right, “First Mate, next to her is our mechanic, Kaywinnit Lee Frye, Kaylee; and across there is Wash, our pilot. Folks this here is our new gunhand.”
“Nice ta meet ya.” Kaylee nearly bounced up to greet Jayne, her face bright with a big smile and twinkling eyes.
“Hey there little girl.” He replied, still getting a lay of the land. He took a chair next to the pilot who turned and reached out his hand to shake. Jayne looked at the proffered hand for a moment, face carefully blank, before accepting it.
“Hi, Hoban Washburne, Wash, at your service. Friendly getaway driver and good humor man!” Wash grinned broadly as they shook hands.
“Yeah, well, hi then.” Jayne replied, uncertain of how to relate to the obviously good natured man beside him. Weren’t right sure about the pilot’s brightly colored shirt neither. Good thing he didn’t go out on jobs Jayne figured- get up like that would get a man shot more often than not. On top of that a lip caterpillar just completed the ridiculous look.
“Captain, we got coordinates for the drop off tomorrow?” The First Mate, Zoë asked. She had barely nodded hello to the big mercenary before returning to her dinner and the question.
Everyone turned to the meal, mostly protein and few vegetables thrown into a stew. Jayne set to eating, tuning out the conversation around him. The air was warm, the food pretty tasty for being mostly rehydrated powder. The girl mechanic across from him chattered away about how shiny some new engine adjustment will be once the Captain buys some part she is begging for. Wasn’t every day he had met a girl so cheerful it nearly made his teeth hurt.
Jayne hadn’t enjoyed a sit down meal with people who laughed and joked sincerely since he left home almost twenty years ago. There was an unreality to it. The voices filled the empty spaces, food on his plate, enough to make him feel full, and warmth. It takes him a while to figure out what this reminds him of, a family. He stops short of shoveling a bite into his mouth at that realization. This boat was a family. Well, he weren’t gonna be one a’ them, no sir’re, he had a job, food, and a bunk, didn’t need no family on top a’ that.
Jayne went to his bunk after dinner to hang his girls, write his Ma and contemplate where in the ‘verse he had landed himself.
~~~~~
“Jayne, get your carcass out of bed and come help unloading this cargo!” Mal’s voice was loud and angry. Jayne groaned, rolled over on his bunk. His head was pounding, the taste in his mouth was of sour whiskey and cheap cigars.
“Comin’ Mal.” Jayne rubbed his eyes tiredly, gorramn Captain was a ruttin’ morning person. Fantastic he thought bleakly. A gorramn morning person.
He had been on the crew for less than a month and knew enough to not talk back to the Captain most times. Course, there were times when the words were leaving his mouth before his brain had a chance to look at them. There had been more than one unpleasant chore assigned to him for those times.
~~~~~
After a few years he still hadn’t gotten the hang of keeping his mouth shut when Mal was in a yelling mood. More often than it was worth keeping a tally of, Mal threatened to toss Jayne out the airlock. Neither man seemed perturbed by that potentiality, it just became part of their normal dialogue. Course, Jayne was aware in his more lucid moments that the Mal may actually have it in him. Never met a man so set in his ideals as the ex-soldier. Jayne was fair certain Mal would kill him if it ever came to it. He had to respect that even though it made him a mite bit anxious sometimes.
Weren’t gonna be dwellin’ on that concept though… there was another new body comin’ onboard to see ‘bout renting one a’ the shuttles. Jayne figured on it bein’ some other Rim bred folk lookin’ ta se the ‘verse. Mood dark, he crawled out of his bunk and went ta help Mal in the cargo bay… Wasn’t lookin’ up when she came onboard, but he smelled her right away… jasmine and sandalwood drifted past him. His tracker’s mind categorized the scent before his brain registered the reality of who may be wearing such perfume… He swung his head up with a snap to see a Companion, a gorramn Core bred Companion, standing in the cargo bay…
Hell, maybe he did want ta be part a’ the family after all…
wángbadàn, bastard
feng kuang crazy, insane