Jayne was starting to get used to the island. Sure, he'd rather be doing something instead of just lazing around, but hell, at least there wasn't nobody shooting at him, there were a lot of pretty girls around, and everything was free. And spending a weekend as an 18-year-old (and laughing his gorram ass off at Mal) wasn't so bad, neither
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[crazy]
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"It's not a bad likeness, for clay," I said with a slight smile as I came to stand next to him. He was quite taller than I, and had a weathered look to him that the statue captured quite well. I wondered where he'd come from, for it was certainly not Terre d'Ange.
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"Whoa, Jayne. You're hot and all, but you think we all need to see that?" she teased.
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