Namesake - A Firefly fic - Ch 7
Making up for having to skip last week's update...two chapters within one week....BAM.
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/7722746/7/
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6
7
Jayne set down a large wooden crate in the center of the general store, pulling a pry bar from his belt and tiptoeing around the box as gracefully as he could so as not to knock into the tightly packed aisles filled with precariously stacked items. His first week on the job, he wasn't so careful and managed to hip-check a barrel of grains into a shelf, causing a domino effect of crashing bottles and cans, a great mess to clean up, and a serious dock in his pay.
Old-Man Avory watched from behind the counter, but his kind eyes never turned stern, even though he dubbed Jayne as a bull in a china shop. "How many crates came in?" he asked with a slight warble in his voice.
"There're two more on the porch, but I got my eye on 'em in case anyone thinks about gettin' grabby," Jayne said, slipping the pry bar under the crate's lid, the wood splintering under the pressure as the nails popped up one by one.
"I ain't worried 'bout anyone thievin'," the old man shook. "Petty criminals don't get far in a small town where everyone knows everybody's business."
With a little force, Jayne pulled the lid free and set it aside. "My Ma always said that waggin' tongues keep more folks in line than the law."
"Wise woman," Avory smiled, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tried to peer into the open box. "Now, be careful stacking those paint cans. Them shelves ain't as sturdy as they used to be."
Jayne turned and set his hand gently atop of a metal frame shelf, pushing slightly and watching the whole thing shift and wobble. "I can fix these up for you. They just need some bracers in the back there and reinforcement in the joints. Think I saw some aluminum scrap in the shed. And you know, there's some old I-beams too, just gettin' in the way...I can see about whippin' them together into a real solid unit for ya."
"Well I'll be damned. No one told me that Clydesdale knew his way around an arc."
Lacing his thumbs in his belt loops, Jayne puffed out his chest with pride. "It's my father's trade, and his father before him. Back home they say MIG wire must run through our veins 'cos nobody welds like a Cobb."
"Mighty useful skill 'round these parts," Avory nodded, raising a boney finger in the air. "Them supports in the caverns always need repair."
"Caverns?"
The old man chewed on his tongue, knowing he'd said too much. Jayne looked at him expectantly, but the clerk was saved by the unrhythmic clang of the door's tin can chime. Vera plodded over the threshold, her cheeks red and brow furrowed, and jammed her way to the counter, past Jayne and the crate with little regard.
"Ah, Vera, sweetheart," Avory began, unable to sense the cloud of anger surrounding her. "Marjory was just in this mornin' askin' 'bout that fancy fabric for that fine dress she's makin' you. Should've gotten it in this afternoon - Clydesdale...see if there's a bolt of fabric in that crate there."
Shoving some straw aside, Jayne plucked a long brown paper parcel from the box, holding it with uncertainty.
"I don't give a damn about fabric," she growled, slamming a handful of coins on the counter. "I want fifty rounds of .44 Long Snout."
"I'm sorry darlin', but Coop just bought me all out. I got String Bean Jeans and Supers."
"They don't fit my 438," Vera grumbled, grabbing her holster with a violent shake.
"Come back tomorrow. I'll have a new shipment in then and…" the old man's voice shrank to a whisper as he peered over glasses with a thin-lipped grin. "...it'll give you some time to cool down."
With an aggravated groan, she snatched up her coins and whipped around so fast that it shook the old floorboards beneath her. As she slammed the screen door behind her, Jayne and the old man exchanged wide-eye glances.
"That there worries me…" the clerk muttered, his eyes fixed on the door.
"Yep…" Jayne nodded, biting his lip. "You mind if I duck out for a few, make sure she's not about t' beat someone to death with a rock?"
"By all means, go," he shooed the workhorse towards the door with his frail hands. "That girl's temper is a force t' be reckoned with."
It just took a quick sprint across the way for Jayne to catch up with Vera's heavy-footed pace. Her heated determination seemed to clear a path, townsfolk dodging out of her way left and right. Jayne trailed behind her for a few steps, gathering the gall to make his presence known.
"Who you gunnin' for?" he finally asked, hovering over her shoulder.
"No one."
"I'm not so sure I believe ya."
"Jayne!" she stomped. "I ain't some head-case, needin' to be followed 'round!"
"So where you off to in such a huff?"
"Lookin' for Coop."
"What'cha want with him?"
"Will you just shut your dumb trap?" she snapped. Catching her words, her eyes turned apologetic, but when she tried to will herself to speak kindly, her mouth went dry and instead she heaved an exasperated yelp, shaking her hands manically in the air.
Jayne raised his brow. "Is somethin' wrong with you?"
She squinted her eyes tight, sucking in a deep breath, and then scurried ahead towards Skinny Joe's Tavern. He followed her with persistence and didn't much appreciate the way she deliberately let the saloon doors swing back on their hinges to knock him in the chest. With plenty of daylight working hours left, the tavern was almost empty aside from Ugly Danny Tucker and One-Eyed Ames slouched over the bar.
Coop was set up in the corner at a long table, several guns, solvents, and cleaning patches laid out before him as he chewed on a stogie and ran a bore brush through the barrel of a small pistol. "Wha'do you want?" he grunted through his teeth, eyeing Vera and Jayne as they shuffled towards him.
"Fifty rounds of .44 LS. I know you bought Avory out," Vera demanded.
"For that little 438 Black Sparrow of yours?" Coop said, pointing at her holster. "What you want it for?"
"Zao gao! Why's it matter?"
"Cos I ain't givin' you squat 'less I know what you want it for."
"I just want to go out to the targets t' blow off some steam ."
"With a single-action revolver?"
"It's all Daddy lets me carry without Mikas around," she whined. "Now can I have the ammo or not?"
"Can't imagine you'll feel any better shootin' off one round at a time," Jayne piped in.
"What do you know?" Vera sneered towards him.
"He's right," Coop smirked. "That little Sparrow ain't gonna satisfy nothin'."
"Then give me one of yours!" she said, pointing at the array of weapons in front of them.
Coop erupted into cackling laugh, smoke from his cigar spouting from his mouth. "Which one tickles your fancy?"
With a serious scowl, her eye went to the largest gun on the table. "The Callahan."
Coop's laughter grew louder, shaking the table, and he gasped for breaths as he smothered his cigar on the bottom of his boot. Vera grit her teeth, unable to see the humor in the situation. Jayne puckered his face to keep himself from grinning as he examined the impressive firearm of Vera's affection.
"You gotta admit..." Jayne winked. "The girl's got taste."
"I'd say!" Coop hooted. "That thing's the finest weapon a man can own. Got a customized trigger, double cartridge...Ai ya, Princess! You wouldn't know what to do with it."
Vera narrowed her eyes. "The joke's gonna be on you, Coop. That gun will be mine."
"Yeah, over my dead body," he brushed her off, lighting up another cigar. "Gimme that Sparrow of yours."
Reluctantly, Vera unsheathed her revolver and placed it in Coop's palm. In a matter of minutes, he disassembled the little gun, removed the trigger, and put it all back together again. "C'mere," he called her near. "You don't go tellin' your Daddy I did this...all you gotta do now is fan back on the hammer real quick and it'll fire round after round after round."
With a vigorous nod, Vera took her gun back and aimed it at the back wall, practicing the new technique a few times and then stuffing it back in her holster. "And the Long Snouts?"
Reaching into a black duffle-bag at his feet, Coop pulled out a a box of ammunition and slid it across the table.
Vera reached into her pocket, grasping onto the loose coins. "What do I owe you?"
"Don't worry 'bout it. I haven't laughed that hard in donkey years," he said, his lips curling into a smile as he began to snicker. "The Callahan…."
oOo
Vera reclined in her chair, bringing a hot cup of green tea to her lips. Crossing her legs, she accidentally bumped the dining table with her foot, startling Kaylee straight up in her seat. There was a long, uncomfortable silence between the two women, and after a short, bumbling conversation about the tea, all Kaylee could think to do was smile awkwardly whenever Vera looked her way.
With a long-winded sigh, Vera reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a flask, unscrewing the lid and pouring a splash of amber liquid into her mug. Holding out the silver container with a shake, she wordlessly offered it to Kaylee.
"What the hell," Kaylee murmured, spiking her tea. With a slow sip, she grimaced, then ran her tongue along her teeth. "Woo, that's strong. Real good, but got a kick. And sweet. What is that?"
"Honey whiskey."
Pursing her lips, Kaylee brought the flask to her mouth and took a straight swig, shaking her head with a throaty "Ahhh." Vera smirked, taking back her flask and matching the mechanic's shot before screwing the lid on tight and tucking it back into her coat.
The silence resumed, but the liquor felt warm in Kaylee's belly and suddenly the stranger didn't seem so intimidating. Zoe was tougher for sure, bigger and stronger and more resolute. And there Kaylee was, puffing up her chest and casually crossing her arms, so as to appear just as tenacious and aloof.
Floating elegantly through the steel-framed doorway, Inara made her way to the kitchen, stumbling upon the unspoken, one-sided pissing contest, surprised to find an unfamiliar face sitting at the table. Vera looked up listlessly, taking note of the dignified woman's fine garments and poise, and rolling her eyes scornfully.
"Oh, thank god," Kaylee muttered under her breath as she rose from her chair. "Inara! Come meet Vera…."
Putting on a kind, practiced smile, Inara greeted the guest with a slight bow of her head, her perfect dark curls bouncing over her shoulders. "It's a pleasure."
"I'm sure it is," Vera grumbled sarcastically, raising her mug in the air.
"Inara is a registered companion," Kaylee chimed cheerfully, attempting to break the new layer of tension wafting through the room.
Vera brought her tea to her mouth, snickering into the cup.
Inara furrowed her brow. "I'm sorry, do you find that amusing?"
"No. Well, yes." Vera shrugged with a confessing exhale. "I almost went to for training."
"Really?" gaped Kaylee, crouching back down in her seat.
"Mmmhmm. A scout from the guild even came to recruit me."
Quizzically inspecting the fierce woman's appearance, Inara placed her hands on her hips. "But you didn't go?"
"Ain't it obvious?"
Kaylee swelled with curiosity. "What happened?"
"Plans changed," Vera said frankly, taking a sip of tea.
Refusing to let the conversation dwindle into an uneasy nothing, Kaylee's voice jumped eagerly into the gap with another question. "So how do you know Jayne? I mean, you didn't just meet today..."
The stranger paused, weighing her words carefully. "Guess you can say we're old friends."
Perhaps it was the whiskey, but a gust of courage barreled up through Kaylee's chest. "Do men often name their favorite guns after old friends?"
Vera's eyes grew wide with panic. "What?"
"I mean...c'mon….you and Jayne... right?"
Inara bit her lip, watching with subdued amusement as the sweet little mechanic's words stripped away Vera's tough facade, leaving her to defensively claw her way out of a corner.
"Don't see why that's any of your business," Vera barked.
"Tell me, 'cos I've always wondered," Kaylee winked, continuing with the interrogation. "How do ya manage to build a meaningful relationship with Jayne?"
Vera narrowed her eyes and drew her shoulders wide as a vicious scowl consumed her. The glare smacked the grin right off Inara's face and Kaylee gulped down the last of her bravery, as goosebumps ran along her arms. Leaning forward, Vera bared her teeth. "With a hammer, of course."
All three women bursted with laughter, their cackling sending vibrations through the walls of the ship. Kaylee gasped for air and wiped tears from her eyes, as Inara draped herself over a chair, unable to stay upright as she tried to catch her breath. Vera's smile was large and infectious, but she quickly tucked it away under her lips when she heard a pair of heavy boots thump into the room.
"What's so funny?" Jayne pouted as if he knew he was the butt of a joke.
"Just a little girl-talk," Inara insisted, regaining her composure.
"Yeah? I don't know if I like that," he grunted, watching their smiles fade.
Noticing his arm bandaged tightly up in a sling, Kaylee pointed towards the injury with concern. "How's your shoulder?"
"Fine. Just some tissue damage," he answered, with a slight shrug. "Had worse."
"You're welcome," Vera groaned bitterly into her tea.
Jayne swallowed nervously, feeling the feminine eyes of his crew-mates picking him apart as he took a few hesitant steps towards Vera. "Hey, I, uh...got somethin' I wanna show you."
"What is it?"
"You'll see," he said, urging her to get up. "Got it in my bunk."
"What is it?" she repeated, unmoving.
"Gorramit! Can't it just be a surprise?"
Her eyelashes fluttered, unfazed by his frustration. "No."
Stomping his foot like a child, he stared up at the ceiling, recalculating his plan. With a defeated breath, he curled his lip and sighed. "The Callahan."
Vera slammed down her mug on the table, the warm liquid within sloshing over the sides, and looked at him with exuberant disbelief. "Shen sheng de gao wan! No you don't!"
A sly smirk twisted over Jayne's face. "I knew it'd get ya all fired up."
Continue to Chapter 8