Namesake - A Firefly fic - Ch 6
Phew -- work has released me from it's boney, crippling grasp, so I finally had time to write. Enjoy!
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/7722746/6/
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
6
"When did you become such a gorram baby," Vera groaned, impatiently waiting for Jayne to catch up. "Your legs ain't broke, get a move on."
Jayne hustled forward, keeping pressure on his arm with his hand, the blood between his fingers becoming sticky against the moist material of his sleeve. "When did you become such a jien ren? Don't know if you noticed, but I've lost a lot of blood here."
"No blood, no guts," she replied firmly as the soles of her boots scraped up a large rock in their path.
"Big talk from a little girl who was pissin' her pants up on that ridge."
She turned sharply, her nose wrinkled in anger. To his surprise, she extended her hand to help him over the obstacle, but as he hoisted himself up, she leaned in closely. "I already killed one hun dan today- go ahead, try your luck, I'll make it two."
Anyone else would have found the threat daunting, but Jayne licked his lips, hoping she'd try. Instead, she dropped his hand and forged on ahead, leaving him to watch the swing in her hips from behind.
"What were you doin' up there anyway?" he called after her. "I thought your Daddy had big plans for you- that's why he ran me out of town, ain't it?"
She laughed sarcastically. "You did all the runnin' on your own."
"When you wake up with a gun to your head and you're told to be gone by morning, you bet your sweet ass you're runnin'."
"And what about me?" she stopped, meeting his eyes with a grave intensity.
Locked in her gaze, Jayne fought to keep his vehement longing from bubbling through his cool facade. "You were better off without me," he growled, breaking eye contact.
"Yeah," she scowled. "It's startin' to look like I was."
oOo
Serenity sat steadily in the belly of a dusty gorge and Jayne met the sight of the ship with a relieving sigh as he and Vera climbed over the last ridge and shuffled down into the valley. The cargo bay door unfolded, the buzz of hydraulics more welcoming than ever. Emerging from within, Kaylee eagerly waved at the approaching figures, but as they neared, a burning panic grew in her gut. Jayne appeared injured, he was with a gun-toting stranger, and Mal and Zoe were no where to be seen.
"Simon...we need you down here," she belted into the ship's intercom as she quickly ran to meet Jayne at the ramp. "What happened? Where's the Capt'n?"
"Nothin' but a little friendly fire," the mercenary assured her woozily, treading up into the ship. "Mal and Zoe are off finishin' the deal."
His nonchalance took her by surprise. A million questions raced through her head, but suddenly shrank into nothing as she felt the cold glare shooting from the woman at Jayne's side. Shaking off an uneasy chill, Kaylee's mouth sagged open, her tongue trying its best to flick words out. "And you are...?"
"In possession of coordinates to the drop off location for our cargo," Vera replied curtly, eyeing the metal cases piled on the floor.
In the confines of the ship, Vera's presence seemed larger and she held her head high with a solid-footed stance. Concern permeated through Kaylee's expression, but Jayne gave her a nod to vouch for the callous woman in the tin cloth cap.
"Um, okay, you'll want to give those to Wash, our pilot...he flies good ole Serenity here...with, um, coordinates," Kaylee stuttered with a nervous smile.
Watching the two women, Jayne's mind drifted and a lazy grin twisted onto his face. It was no secret that Kaylee was sweet like marmalade and could make anyone feel right at home with just a smile, but whenever she neared, he'd make sure to take a good whiff of her scent (which consisted of motor oil, strawberries, and cinnamon) and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of intimate little things she wore underneath those baggy, grease-stained, coveralls.
And then there was Vera- wild and unpredictable - a fine, willowy creature that could never be tamed or domesticated (and would chew up and spit out dainty, pampered doctors that even bothered to bat a pretty eyelash her way), but she could be surprising soft if you knew how to butter her up, and she had a certain way with words that made him want to listen to everything she'd ever have to say.
The urgent click of nicely polished dress shoes up along the gantry interrupted Jayne's thoughts, rocketing the mercenary's mind back into the present and reminding him of the throbbing bullet hole in his shoulder. Simon swung around the corner and down the stairs, rolling his neatly pressed sleeves up his forearms. Behind him, River trailed cautiously, her ears perked and eyes wide as she watched her brother mentally prepare himself to work with a sharp stare and a clenched jaw.
"Go on 'n take your time, Doc," sneered Jayne. "I ain't bleedin' or nothin'."
"You've been shot again?" Simon groaned as he made a beeline for the infirmary. "Has it ever occurred to you to step out of the trajectory of flying bullets?"
"Stop flappin' your lip and just do your job," Jayne cringed, peeling off his jacket and dragging himself towards the doctor standing under the stark florescent light. Passing Kaylee, he arched his head in close, his whiskers brushing slightly against her cheek. "Do me a favor and don't let Vera there out of your sight. I ain't through with her yet."
Kaylee's doe eyes made the promise, but her insides quaked. She didn't like the idea of being left alone with that woman, nor did she like the harrowing weapon strapped to her back, or the dried blood staining her cuffs and caked under her fingernails. She was no stranger to intimidating men, cutthroat women, big guns, and bullet wounds, but there was something about Vera that set her on edge. Then again, she reminded herself, she had once felt the very same about Jayne.
"Why don't I take you up t' see Wash?" Kaylee turned to Vera with an affable smile.
"Got no more time to waste," she snapped brusquely as her fingers squirmed into her coat's breast pocket, pulling out a thin stick of charcoal and a crumpled piece of paper. Pressing the page's wrinkles out quickly along her thigh, she scribbled down some numbers, and then forcefully shoved the paper into Kaylee's palm. Without a second thought, the woman anxiously pivoted on her heel, marching stiffly towards the cargo door, and in the light of the setting sun, she ran her hands nimbly through her pockets to check for ammunition.
"But it's gettin' dark..." Kaylee called from behind.
"And you've all kept me long enough. I'll be lucky if I make it back in one piece."
"Why don't you ride with us? Can't imagine it'd take too long. And safer than walkin' back alone in the dark," Kaylee suggested, hoping Vera would take the bait. "I was just about t' put on some tea if you'd like some."
Pausing in contemplation, Vera pulled off her cap and wiped a sweaty grime from her face in the crook of her arm. Her eyes wandered through the glass of the infirmary window, spying Jayne gritting his teeth as Simon prodded at his wound with shiny, silver forceps.
"Fine," she said briskly over her shoulder, damning herself under her breath.
oOo
"My Poppa would give me a good fifteen lashes if he even thought I was hangin' around them ruffians...your brother bein' the exception."
"They ain't so bad."
"And Miss Caroline said you keep missin' your lessons? That'd be a good fifteen more."
"What do you care, Marjory?"
Vera did her best not to slouch as a girl with corkscrew curls wrapped a measuring tape around her waist, cinching it snugly and counting the tick marks. She had known Marjory Jenkins for as long as she could remember, and even as small children, Marjory took it upon herself to scold Vera for her misdoings, whether it be sneaking outside during rainstorms to splash in puddles, or filling her brother's new wellies with mud, or convincing the other kids that alpaca spit would make them grow taller.
"It just makes me a little sad, that's all. You've got all this potential and it don't seem to matter t' you," Marjory said, scratching down the measurements on a little notepad and then tucking the pencil behind her ear.
"So what?"
"If I had a chance t' get outta here 'n make somethin' of myself, I wouldn't be wastin' the opportunity on some lowlife."
Vera rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Yeah you do," Marjory frowned. "It ain't the harmless little game you think it is."
"I swear, you're wound tighter than your curls," Vera scoffed, dismissing her friend's warning.
Draping the measuring tape across her shoulder, the girl grew gravely quiet. "I feel real sorry for you."
"I don't recall askin' for your opinion," Vera snapped. Shoving a dress form aside, she gathered her gun holster from a nearby table and hastily buckled it back around her hips as she stomped towards the door. "You don't know a ruttin' thing. Not a ruttin' thing!"
Continue to Chapter 7
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/7722746/6/
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
6
"When did you become such a gorram baby," Vera groaned, impatiently waiting for Jayne to catch up. "Your legs ain't broke, get a move on."
Jayne hustled forward, keeping pressure on his arm with his hand, the blood between his fingers becoming sticky against the moist material of his sleeve. "When did you become such a jien ren? Don't know if you noticed, but I've lost a lot of blood here."
"No blood, no guts," she replied firmly as the soles of her boots scraped up a large rock in their path.
"Big talk from a little girl who was pissin' her pants up on that ridge."
She turned sharply, her nose wrinkled in anger. To his surprise, she extended her hand to help him over the obstacle, but as he hoisted himself up, she leaned in closely. "I already killed one hun dan today- go ahead, try your luck, I'll make it two."
Anyone else would have found the threat daunting, but Jayne licked his lips, hoping she'd try. Instead, she dropped his hand and forged on ahead, leaving him to watch the swing in her hips from behind.
"What were you doin' up there anyway?" he called after her. "I thought your Daddy had big plans for you- that's why he ran me out of town, ain't it?"
She laughed sarcastically. "You did all the runnin' on your own."
"When you wake up with a gun to your head and you're told to be gone by morning, you bet your sweet ass you're runnin'."
"And what about me?" she stopped, meeting his eyes with a grave intensity.
Locked in her gaze, Jayne fought to keep his vehement longing from bubbling through his cool facade. "You were better off without me," he growled, breaking eye contact.
"Yeah," she scowled. "It's startin' to look like I was."
oOo
Serenity sat steadily in the belly of a dusty gorge and Jayne met the sight of the ship with a relieving sigh as he and Vera climbed over the last ridge and shuffled down into the valley. The cargo bay door unfolded, the buzz of hydraulics more welcoming than ever. Emerging from within, Kaylee eagerly waved at the approaching figures, but as they neared, a burning panic grew in her gut. Jayne appeared injured, he was with a gun-toting stranger, and Mal and Zoe were no where to be seen.
"Simon...we need you down here," she belted into the ship's intercom as she quickly ran to meet Jayne at the ramp. "What happened? Where's the Capt'n?"
"Nothin' but a little friendly fire," the mercenary assured her woozily, treading up into the ship. "Mal and Zoe are off finishin' the deal."
His nonchalance took her by surprise. A million questions raced through her head, but suddenly shrank into nothing as she felt the cold glare shooting from the woman at Jayne's side. Shaking off an uneasy chill, Kaylee's mouth sagged open, her tongue trying its best to flick words out. "And you are...?"
"In possession of coordinates to the drop off location for our cargo," Vera replied curtly, eyeing the metal cases piled on the floor.
In the confines of the ship, Vera's presence seemed larger and she held her head high with a solid-footed stance. Concern permeated through Kaylee's expression, but Jayne gave her a nod to vouch for the callous woman in the tin cloth cap.
"Um, okay, you'll want to give those to Wash, our pilot...he flies good ole Serenity here...with, um, coordinates," Kaylee stuttered with a nervous smile.
Watching the two women, Jayne's mind drifted and a lazy grin twisted onto his face. It was no secret that Kaylee was sweet like marmalade and could make anyone feel right at home with just a smile, but whenever she neared, he'd make sure to take a good whiff of her scent (which consisted of motor oil, strawberries, and cinnamon) and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of intimate little things she wore underneath those baggy, grease-stained, coveralls.
And then there was Vera- wild and unpredictable - a fine, willowy creature that could never be tamed or domesticated (and would chew up and spit out dainty, pampered doctors that even bothered to bat a pretty eyelash her way), but she could be surprising soft if you knew how to butter her up, and she had a certain way with words that made him want to listen to everything she'd ever have to say.
The urgent click of nicely polished dress shoes up along the gantry interrupted Jayne's thoughts, rocketing the mercenary's mind back into the present and reminding him of the throbbing bullet hole in his shoulder. Simon swung around the corner and down the stairs, rolling his neatly pressed sleeves up his forearms. Behind him, River trailed cautiously, her ears perked and eyes wide as she watched her brother mentally prepare himself to work with a sharp stare and a clenched jaw.
"Go on 'n take your time, Doc," sneered Jayne. "I ain't bleedin' or nothin'."
"You've been shot again?" Simon groaned as he made a beeline for the infirmary. "Has it ever occurred to you to step out of the trajectory of flying bullets?"
"Stop flappin' your lip and just do your job," Jayne cringed, peeling off his jacket and dragging himself towards the doctor standing under the stark florescent light. Passing Kaylee, he arched his head in close, his whiskers brushing slightly against her cheek. "Do me a favor and don't let Vera there out of your sight. I ain't through with her yet."
Kaylee's doe eyes made the promise, but her insides quaked. She didn't like the idea of being left alone with that woman, nor did she like the harrowing weapon strapped to her back, or the dried blood staining her cuffs and caked under her fingernails. She was no stranger to intimidating men, cutthroat women, big guns, and bullet wounds, but there was something about Vera that set her on edge. Then again, she reminded herself, she had once felt the very same about Jayne.
"Why don't I take you up t' see Wash?" Kaylee turned to Vera with an affable smile.
"Got no more time to waste," she snapped brusquely as her fingers squirmed into her coat's breast pocket, pulling out a thin stick of charcoal and a crumpled piece of paper. Pressing the page's wrinkles out quickly along her thigh, she scribbled down some numbers, and then forcefully shoved the paper into Kaylee's palm. Without a second thought, the woman anxiously pivoted on her heel, marching stiffly towards the cargo door, and in the light of the setting sun, she ran her hands nimbly through her pockets to check for ammunition.
"But it's gettin' dark..." Kaylee called from behind.
"And you've all kept me long enough. I'll be lucky if I make it back in one piece."
"Why don't you ride with us? Can't imagine it'd take too long. And safer than walkin' back alone in the dark," Kaylee suggested, hoping Vera would take the bait. "I was just about t' put on some tea if you'd like some."
Pausing in contemplation, Vera pulled off her cap and wiped a sweaty grime from her face in the crook of her arm. Her eyes wandered through the glass of the infirmary window, spying Jayne gritting his teeth as Simon prodded at his wound with shiny, silver forceps.
"Fine," she said briskly over her shoulder, damning herself under her breath.
oOo
"My Poppa would give me a good fifteen lashes if he even thought I was hangin' around them ruffians...your brother bein' the exception."
"They ain't so bad."
"And Miss Caroline said you keep missin' your lessons? That'd be a good fifteen more."
"What do you care, Marjory?"
Vera did her best not to slouch as a girl with corkscrew curls wrapped a measuring tape around her waist, cinching it snugly and counting the tick marks. She had known Marjory Jenkins for as long as she could remember, and even as small children, Marjory took it upon herself to scold Vera for her misdoings, whether it be sneaking outside during rainstorms to splash in puddles, or filling her brother's new wellies with mud, or convincing the other kids that alpaca spit would make them grow taller.
"It just makes me a little sad, that's all. You've got all this potential and it don't seem to matter t' you," Marjory said, scratching down the measurements on a little notepad and then tucking the pencil behind her ear.
"So what?"
"If I had a chance t' get outta here 'n make somethin' of myself, I wouldn't be wastin' the opportunity on some lowlife."
Vera rolled her eyes. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Yeah you do," Marjory frowned. "It ain't the harmless little game you think it is."
"I swear, you're wound tighter than your curls," Vera scoffed, dismissing her friend's warning.
Draping the measuring tape across her shoulder, the girl grew gravely quiet. "I feel real sorry for you."
"I don't recall askin' for your opinion," Vera snapped. Shoving a dress form aside, she gathered her gun holster from a nearby table and hastily buckled it back around her hips as she stomped towards the door. "You don't know a ruttin' thing. Not a ruttin' thing!"
Continue to Chapter 7