Jayne's Hat
So, Norwegian Blue and I were chatting about writing, and she was writing a fic for a friend and I was impressed and inspired and told her as much. Except I couldn't decide which story to write. So she said "write a story about Jayne’s hat." Oddly enough, to my own everlasting surprise, I took the prompt, and did just that.
Mal was whistling as he made his way through the ship, which might have drawn the bemused glances of any of his crew, had they been awake to notice. Instead they were mostly tucked away in their quarters, sleeping off an enormous dinner that had turned into an impromptu party of sorts. It had been a remarkable day on Serenity, one for the books. The sweet started with an early morning drop that had gone smooth as glass and netted them the biggest payoff they’d seen in some months. Job had been legal, too. Well, legal enough not to get them shot at, and that weren’t nothing.
So Mal’d turned the crew loose in town with near enough to no worries, and gorram if that hadn’t gone smooth as well. Everyone, including the Tams, had a chance to drop a little coin and pick up a few pretties or wants. And every damn one of them had brought something back to share at supper, til the galley counters were near to overflowing with fruit, meat, cake, tea, chocolate, “ ‘n hooch!” Mal himself had scored a crate of oranges, rare indeed on the rim. River… well, River had bought tofu.
“Tofu?” Jayne was incredulous. “We spend months at a time eatin’ protein blocks, and when we get a chance for real food the crazy girl buys… protein blocks?”
“Optimal nutrients,” River fixed him with a stare. “Strength. Growth. You don’t have to have any.”
“Good, cause I won’t.” Jayne slammed a rustic jug of something - with an alcohol content Mal could smell across the room- down amidst the prepared feast. “What I got’s better.”
Jayne’s claim led to an impromptu culinary challenge to determine who had made the superior contribution to the meal. But long after the plates had been passed, and everyone had sampled Shepherd Book’s fried tomatoes and Wash’s breaded chops, Simon’s grilled Morels and River’s cubes of protein, Mal’s oranges and Kaylee’s strawberries, and somehow found room for Inara’s tea and cake topped with Zoe’s bittersweet chocolate, it was evident that Jayne’s hooch was indeed the winner, or at least, the most popular, being still in demand as Mal rose to clear the table.
“Cap’n, iss my turn for the dishes,” Kaylee admonished him, peering out from beneath Jayne’s hideous orange and yellow knit hat, which continually slipped down her forehead to cover her eyes.
“S’alright, lil’ Kaylee, I got it,” Mal smiled at her, not terribly willing to see her toting the breakables. “You just sit there and look cunning in that fashion statement of a hat.”
“Xie xie, Cap’n!” she answered happily. “Here’s to ya. And here’s to Jayne,” she toasted. “And his hat.”
“Here, here!” Kaylee’s cheer met with a loud chorus of sloppy approval, with the exception of River who had removed herself from the table but was eagerly observing the interchange from the adjoining common area.
“The hat!” bellowed Jayne, launching another salvo of clinking glasses.
“Man walks down the street in that hat,” Wash started, “-- well, lemme show you.” He snatched the hat off Kaylee’s head, pulled it over his own curls, and did his best to swagger in an imitation of Jayne that was nothing like Jayne, but nonetheless reduced Kaylee to helpless laughter, while Zoe and Inara struggled to maintain some control.
“You wish you could show ‘em, little man.” Jayne reached for the hat but Wash tossed it across the table to Book, who serenely pulled it over his head, leaving only his ponytail uncovered.
“What do you think?” he asked, turning his head from side to side as if admiring himself in a mirror. “Might be the brothers need to adopt a new look?”
“Might be we finally found something keep us safe from that hair!” Zoe said pointedly, inducing a new round of laughter.
“Nattily, though,” Wash pointed out genially. “Natty protection.”
“Oh, naturally,” agreed Book, sporting a look all too impish for a preacher. “You know, I do believe this is what they’re wearing on the Core nowadays.” As he spoke he leaned across River’s vacated seat and neatly slipped the hat over Simon’s too-tidy hair.
The doc started like someone’d dropped a snake in his lap and pulled the hat off quicker than Mal could clear holster, leaving his hair mussed and standing on end, the sight of which threw Wash and Zoe into a fit of the giggles while Kaylee shrieked and repeatedly slapped the table. Mal, returned to the table, had to laugh his own self at the doc’s discomfort. And could’ve swore he heard Inara snort.
“Nice,” Simon scowled as he held the hat at arms length, dangling it by the pompom as though it was something contagious. He tone changed when he caught Jayne’s less-than-pleased glower. “Niiiice!” he stumbled. “Nice, hat, but it’s, uh, not my color. More suited to Inara.” He flipped the hat across the table, where Inara picked it up and turned it over uncertainly.
“Oh, Nara, it matches your dress!” Kaylee squealed happily.
Mal grinned as Inara glanced around the table, studiously avoiding looking at Jayne, who was watching her like a hungry dog. She caught Mal’s eye and he only smiled the wider.
“I conjure lil’ Kaylee’s right, ‘Nara. It sure does match.”
Inara raised her chin and, never breaking eye contact with Mal, settled Jayne’s wooly hat snuggly over her head. “Yes, it does,” she said, slow and regal as if she was wearin’ a tiara. “Maybe I’ll never give it back.”
“Someone pass me that bottle,” Jayne said, his voice husky.
“C’mon Inara,” complained Wash, “you keep the hat, my sweetie wouldn’t get a chance to be natty.” He reached behind Kaylee and swept it off Inara’s head, momentarily blocking Mal’s line of sight.
“Gorramit, Wash,” Jayne growled, and Mal silently agreed. Inara had turned to watchWash trying to coax Zoe into trying on the hat. Failing that, he finally just set it atop her head.
“Don’t need a prop, husband,” she said, tossing the hat onto the table before standing and pulling Wash to his feet.
“Goodnight all!” Wash called, stumbling behind his wife to the foredeck.
“Aw, is it time to go to bed?” Kaylee asked forlornly.
“You asking?” leered Jayne, and Mal smacked his shoulder as he walked behind him to reach Kaylee.
“Think it is, lil Kaylee,” Mal said, crouching by the mechanic. “Been a shiny day but I’m likely to need you on your feet come morning. You head off now, I’ll finish in here.”
Kaylee stood unsteadily, then leaned over to peck at Mal’s cheek. “I love my cap’n,” she said, nose crinkling. “Oops!” she giggled in the aftermath of a hiccup.
Thankful that was all that came out, Mal gripped her elbow and escorted her up the steps and to her bunk. “Night Cap’n - ow” he heard her miss the final ladder rung.
“Kaylee?”
“I’m shiny!” she called up. “G’night!”
Mal returned to the dining area to find Inara had retired, and River was now sitting at the table, wearing Jayne’s hat, much to Jayne’s consternation.
“C’mon, crazy, hand it over,” he grumbled.
“River, really,” Simon was half whispering as reached for the last of the dishes, “I’m not sure that’s very hygienic. Why don’t you take it off...”
Book stood at the sink, preparing to do the cleaning up.
“No need, Shepherd, I’ll take care of it.”
“Well,” Book smiled broadly, “this is indeed an occasion.”
Mal shrugged. “Good day. Just don’t let word get out or I’ll have to broadwave a capture of you in that hat.”
“I assure you, in my accounts you shall remain a mean old man.”
“Thank you,” Mal nodded. “That is a comfort.”
A thump from the table drew their attention. River had flopped herself across the surface, arms covering her head and Jayne’s hat.
“All right, girl, fine. Just don’t lose it or nothin’. ” Jayne pointed at Simon. “She loses it, you’re gonna pay.” The merc stalked off to the crew quarters while Simon stood with River, absorbing the threat. As soon as they heard Jayne’s hatch clang shut, River calmly removed the hat and set it on the table. All three men stared at her.
“Why couldn’t you just do that when Jayne wanted it?” Simon asked.
“Wasn’t the right time,” River smiled, fairly leaping up from her seat. “Goodnight, Captain.”
“Goodnight, Captain.” Simon echoed his sister as he hastened after her.
“I’ll say goodnight as well, Captain,” Book nodded, placing a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “It was a splendid day.”
“That it was, Shepherd.”
* * *
Mal figured the dishes could wait for him to check on the ship’s coordinates, flip a few switches and make sure they were flying true. It was as he returned from the bridge that the rare urge to whistle had overtaken him. A good day indeed.
He stopped when he stepped back into the dining area. On the table, in an area hosting only Jayne’s hat mere moments ago, lay a ring of objects protruding from under said headwear. Cautiously stepping closer, Mal laughed. Captures. He picked up the hat to reveal a circle of images. Jayne, Kaylee, Wash, Book, Simon, Inara, and Zoe all laughed or talked or stared out at him, each wearing Jayne’s hat. Each looking patently ridiculous. There was a capture, too, of River, clearly a recent self-portrait, the hat all but obscuring her small face.
“Huh.” Never did know what to make of that girl.
He looked at the hat in his hand, the garish pattern that made him laugh every time he saw it, and back at the pictures of his crew wearing it, which absolutely made him laugh, until he stopped at the dark eyes that still bore smugly into his, insolent expression still answering his challenge, undiminished by its orange and yellow crown.
“Touche,” he saluted.
Whistling again, he returned to his dish duty. He never did hear the capture being taken, and the image of Captain Malcolm Reynolds, doing the crew’s dishes while wearing his mercenary’s knit cap, never did get pinned up with the others.
Mal was whistling as he made his way through the ship, which might have drawn the bemused glances of any of his crew, had they been awake to notice. Instead they were mostly tucked away in their quarters, sleeping off an enormous dinner that had turned into an impromptu party of sorts. It had been a remarkable day on Serenity, one for the books. The sweet started with an early morning drop that had gone smooth as glass and netted them the biggest payoff they’d seen in some months. Job had been legal, too. Well, legal enough not to get them shot at, and that weren’t nothing.
So Mal’d turned the crew loose in town with near enough to no worries, and gorram if that hadn’t gone smooth as well. Everyone, including the Tams, had a chance to drop a little coin and pick up a few pretties or wants. And every damn one of them had brought something back to share at supper, til the galley counters were near to overflowing with fruit, meat, cake, tea, chocolate, “ ‘n hooch!” Mal himself had scored a crate of oranges, rare indeed on the rim. River… well, River had bought tofu.
“Tofu?” Jayne was incredulous. “We spend months at a time eatin’ protein blocks, and when we get a chance for real food the crazy girl buys… protein blocks?”
“Optimal nutrients,” River fixed him with a stare. “Strength. Growth. You don’t have to have any.”
“Good, cause I won’t.” Jayne slammed a rustic jug of something - with an alcohol content Mal could smell across the room- down amidst the prepared feast. “What I got’s better.”
Jayne’s claim led to an impromptu culinary challenge to determine who had made the superior contribution to the meal. But long after the plates had been passed, and everyone had sampled Shepherd Book’s fried tomatoes and Wash’s breaded chops, Simon’s grilled Morels and River’s cubes of protein, Mal’s oranges and Kaylee’s strawberries, and somehow found room for Inara’s tea and cake topped with Zoe’s bittersweet chocolate, it was evident that Jayne’s hooch was indeed the winner, or at least, the most popular, being still in demand as Mal rose to clear the table.
“Cap’n, iss my turn for the dishes,” Kaylee admonished him, peering out from beneath Jayne’s hideous orange and yellow knit hat, which continually slipped down her forehead to cover her eyes.
“S’alright, lil’ Kaylee, I got it,” Mal smiled at her, not terribly willing to see her toting the breakables. “You just sit there and look cunning in that fashion statement of a hat.”
“Xie xie, Cap’n!” she answered happily. “Here’s to ya. And here’s to Jayne,” she toasted. “And his hat.”
“Here, here!” Kaylee’s cheer met with a loud chorus of sloppy approval, with the exception of River who had removed herself from the table but was eagerly observing the interchange from the adjoining common area.
“The hat!” bellowed Jayne, launching another salvo of clinking glasses.
“Man walks down the street in that hat,” Wash started, “-- well, lemme show you.” He snatched the hat off Kaylee’s head, pulled it over his own curls, and did his best to swagger in an imitation of Jayne that was nothing like Jayne, but nonetheless reduced Kaylee to helpless laughter, while Zoe and Inara struggled to maintain some control.
“You wish you could show ‘em, little man.” Jayne reached for the hat but Wash tossed it across the table to Book, who serenely pulled it over his head, leaving only his ponytail uncovered.
“What do you think?” he asked, turning his head from side to side as if admiring himself in a mirror. “Might be the brothers need to adopt a new look?”
“Might be we finally found something keep us safe from that hair!” Zoe said pointedly, inducing a new round of laughter.
“Nattily, though,” Wash pointed out genially. “Natty protection.”
“Oh, naturally,” agreed Book, sporting a look all too impish for a preacher. “You know, I do believe this is what they’re wearing on the Core nowadays.” As he spoke he leaned across River’s vacated seat and neatly slipped the hat over Simon’s too-tidy hair.
The doc started like someone’d dropped a snake in his lap and pulled the hat off quicker than Mal could clear holster, leaving his hair mussed and standing on end, the sight of which threw Wash and Zoe into a fit of the giggles while Kaylee shrieked and repeatedly slapped the table. Mal, returned to the table, had to laugh his own self at the doc’s discomfort. And could’ve swore he heard Inara snort.
“Nice,” Simon scowled as he held the hat at arms length, dangling it by the pompom as though it was something contagious. He tone changed when he caught Jayne’s less-than-pleased glower. “Niiiice!” he stumbled. “Nice, hat, but it’s, uh, not my color. More suited to Inara.” He flipped the hat across the table, where Inara picked it up and turned it over uncertainly.
“Oh, Nara, it matches your dress!” Kaylee squealed happily.
Mal grinned as Inara glanced around the table, studiously avoiding looking at Jayne, who was watching her like a hungry dog. She caught Mal’s eye and he only smiled the wider.
“I conjure lil’ Kaylee’s right, ‘Nara. It sure does match.”
Inara raised her chin and, never breaking eye contact with Mal, settled Jayne’s wooly hat snuggly over her head. “Yes, it does,” she said, slow and regal as if she was wearin’ a tiara. “Maybe I’ll never give it back.”
“Someone pass me that bottle,” Jayne said, his voice husky.
“C’mon Inara,” complained Wash, “you keep the hat, my sweetie wouldn’t get a chance to be natty.” He reached behind Kaylee and swept it off Inara’s head, momentarily blocking Mal’s line of sight.
“Gorramit, Wash,” Jayne growled, and Mal silently agreed. Inara had turned to watchWash trying to coax Zoe into trying on the hat. Failing that, he finally just set it atop her head.
“Don’t need a prop, husband,” she said, tossing the hat onto the table before standing and pulling Wash to his feet.
“Goodnight all!” Wash called, stumbling behind his wife to the foredeck.
“Aw, is it time to go to bed?” Kaylee asked forlornly.
“You asking?” leered Jayne, and Mal smacked his shoulder as he walked behind him to reach Kaylee.
“Think it is, lil Kaylee,” Mal said, crouching by the mechanic. “Been a shiny day but I’m likely to need you on your feet come morning. You head off now, I’ll finish in here.”
Kaylee stood unsteadily, then leaned over to peck at Mal’s cheek. “I love my cap’n,” she said, nose crinkling. “Oops!” she giggled in the aftermath of a hiccup.
Thankful that was all that came out, Mal gripped her elbow and escorted her up the steps and to her bunk. “Night Cap’n - ow” he heard her miss the final ladder rung.
“Kaylee?”
“I’m shiny!” she called up. “G’night!”
Mal returned to the dining area to find Inara had retired, and River was now sitting at the table, wearing Jayne’s hat, much to Jayne’s consternation.
“C’mon, crazy, hand it over,” he grumbled.
“River, really,” Simon was half whispering as reached for the last of the dishes, “I’m not sure that’s very hygienic. Why don’t you take it off...”
Book stood at the sink, preparing to do the cleaning up.
“No need, Shepherd, I’ll take care of it.”
“Well,” Book smiled broadly, “this is indeed an occasion.”
Mal shrugged. “Good day. Just don’t let word get out or I’ll have to broadwave a capture of you in that hat.”
“I assure you, in my accounts you shall remain a mean old man.”
“Thank you,” Mal nodded. “That is a comfort.”
A thump from the table drew their attention. River had flopped herself across the surface, arms covering her head and Jayne’s hat.
“All right, girl, fine. Just don’t lose it or nothin’. ” Jayne pointed at Simon. “She loses it, you’re gonna pay.” The merc stalked off to the crew quarters while Simon stood with River, absorbing the threat. As soon as they heard Jayne’s hatch clang shut, River calmly removed the hat and set it on the table. All three men stared at her.
“Why couldn’t you just do that when Jayne wanted it?” Simon asked.
“Wasn’t the right time,” River smiled, fairly leaping up from her seat. “Goodnight, Captain.”
“Goodnight, Captain.” Simon echoed his sister as he hastened after her.
“I’ll say goodnight as well, Captain,” Book nodded, placing a hand on Mal’s shoulder. “It was a splendid day.”
“That it was, Shepherd.”
* * *
Mal figured the dishes could wait for him to check on the ship’s coordinates, flip a few switches and make sure they were flying true. It was as he returned from the bridge that the rare urge to whistle had overtaken him. A good day indeed.
He stopped when he stepped back into the dining area. On the table, in an area hosting only Jayne’s hat mere moments ago, lay a ring of objects protruding from under said headwear. Cautiously stepping closer, Mal laughed. Captures. He picked up the hat to reveal a circle of images. Jayne, Kaylee, Wash, Book, Simon, Inara, and Zoe all laughed or talked or stared out at him, each wearing Jayne’s hat. Each looking patently ridiculous. There was a capture, too, of River, clearly a recent self-portrait, the hat all but obscuring her small face.
“Huh.” Never did know what to make of that girl.
He looked at the hat in his hand, the garish pattern that made him laugh every time he saw it, and back at the pictures of his crew wearing it, which absolutely made him laugh, until he stopped at the dark eyes that still bore smugly into his, insolent expression still answering his challenge, undiminished by its orange and yellow crown.
“Touche,” he saluted.
Whistling again, he returned to his dish duty. He never did hear the capture being taken, and the image of Captain Malcolm Reynolds, doing the crew’s dishes while wearing his mercenary’s knit cap, never did get pinned up with the others.