Pairing: Jayne/Simon (duh)
Spoilers: None, really, just set somewhere in the series, pre – ‘Ariel.’
Lyric: Okay, it’s going to be pretty clear that this is more a guideline for the fic. For some reason, these lyrics just really made me think of a possessive Jayne, so that’s what I wrote.
You’re the only one, I’d be with till the end
When I come undone, you bring me back again
Back under the stars, back into your arms.
Avril Lavigne, 'Let Go.'
I think I kind of failed on the lyric thing…
Present for: archae_ology! Happy ficathon present!
My first Firefly fic, so I hope it reads alright.
Three days on shore was about all his body could take. Over the past 72 hours it had had alcohol poured into it, poured on it, had been battered in a very satisfactory bar fight and had been loved by some of the best whores in town. Jayne grinned in dirty joy. Oh, yeah, the lovin’ had been good.
It had been almost enough to dull out the ache inside and had been enough that he felt he could face the doc without feeling his usual urge to throw him over his shoulder and drag him off to his bunk. Bad enough he was hankering after someone like a love sick calf, ten times worse it was the prissy ship’s doctor.
Kaylee was still off visiting her family and they were leaving to pick up Inara tomorrow. Book was off doing some preacher thing, but Mal had warned them all to be back by tonight, for the ship was leaving at first light the next morning.
He stumped through the ship, feeling all the relaxation he’d enjoyed begin to slide away as he neared Simon’s den. Damn the boy, anyway! Where’d he get off bewitching Jayne with blue eyes and fancy ways. There was more than enough to put him off – the little prig was useless out in the black and his sister was loony enough for a whole bughouse. Yet he was still drawn in, despite his irritation. If this kept up, he was gonna have to scratch his itch and he wasn’t sure how Mal – or Simon – would react when he did.
“You got something for a hangover, Doc? Me head’s bangin’ somethin’ fierce.” Jayne eyed the infirmary carefully as he stepped over the threshold, eyes even scanning the ceiling as well as under benches. Never could tell when the crazy girl was gonna pop up, but she tended to hang around her brother. Her eyes on him unnerved him even more than Simon’s – sometimes it was almost like she knew what he felt and was laughing at him. Jayne loathed being laughed at.
Simon stayed turned away from him. “If you choose to go out and get drunk, that’s your decision. I don’t see why I should have to waste my limited supplies on your foibles.”
A grunt of frustration came just before a hand slammed down on the bench beside the doctor. “I ain’t got no interest in your word games just now, Simon! Just gimme somethin’ for the gorram pain!”
The young man had jumped at the sudden display of violence. Although he kept his face turned away, he had twitched enough that Jayne had seen what he was trying to hide. The larger man carefully turned Simon’s face toward him. He felt his stomach drop.
The bruising wasn’t just around the eye, so maybe it wasn’t technically a black eye, but that was what stood out. The eye in the middle of the dark purple skin was red, bloodshot. The bruises slid all the way around to Simon’s ear, where they were vanished under his hair. Someone had clocked him but good.
“Simon?” his voice sounded odd, almost lazy. “What happened?”
Simon hesitated, and finally met Jayne’s eyes. They were unreadable. “I was involved in a…disagreement.”
“Where the hell was Mal?! He shoulda been ruttin’ babysittin’-”
Simon opened his mouth – and then closed it. “Let it go, Jayne,” he said quietly.
No one had ever accused Jayne of being a quick thinker and it took a moment for the words to sink in. Then with a bone cracking crunch realisation sank in. Mal had hurt Simon. He’d given him the black eye.
He felt rage swarm up in his mind, bubbling, overloading. He stepped away from Simon, clenching his hands as he headed blindly for the door.
“Jayne? Jayne! Don’t! You don’t under-“
He burst from the infirmary and barrelled down the corridor, violence on his mind.
The focus of his rage was in the cargo hold, doing his usual rounds. The Captain and Zoe were shoving a heavy crate into a new position to make room for another, while Wash supervised, gabbing in that way he had. Jayne saw red.
He wasn’t aware that Mal was on the floor and that he was pounding on him savagely until he felt hands trying to pull him away. Then focus came back and his rage increased tenfold. He shoved the hands away and went for Mal again. His Captain had his hands up, blocking as many blows as he could, but Jayne was too angry, too strong. Blood was appearing on the handsome face, ribs giving way under pressure.
The hands were back, but this time, they weren’t trying to ineffectually pull him away. This time, they came under his armpits and clenched across his chest, lifting him away from Mal. He kicked and struggled, but these hands were stronger than he. He gradually became aware of a roaring and suddenly realised it was Zoe. Zoe was holding him and bellowing for him to sit the fuck still and shut the fuck up.
Mal was on the ground, one hand pressed to his face, blood running between his fingers. Wash was beside his captain, helping him from one side. On the other was Simon.
At the sight of Simon tending Mal, Jayne struggled again, but his Zoe’s grip was implacable.
“Simon?” asked Zoe.
Simon caught his Mal’s chin, turning it to his face. “I think he’ll be okay. But I should take him to the infirmary to make sure.”
“M’kay,” mumbled the man in question, slowly standing, with Wash and Simon’s aid. “Just seein’ two ‘f everythin’.”
Once Mal was standing on his own, although leaning heavily on Wash, Simon made a beeline for Jayne.
“What was that!” he exclaimed. “Have you gone crazy?”
The merc stared at the smaller man. “He ain’t got no call to go thumping ya!” He started to struggled again. Zoe cursed, but maintained her grip.
“So? You think you two pounding on each other will help?” Disbelief was clear in Simon’s tone.
“So?” Jayne stopped fighting, his mouth dropping open. “So? What’dya mean, so?” he snapped incredulously. His gaze moved from Wash, to Mal, who was still holding his dripping face, to Simon’s angry, bruised features, then up to Zoe’s face.
All of them glaring at him. At HIM!
Jayne stared wildly at the crew. Simon had just told them all that Mal had hit him. That was wrong, that was fucked! So why were they all staring at him like he was the crazy one? Ruttin’ crazy, all of ‘em.
“Fine!” he snapped, wrenching his arms free of Zoe. “But you touch him again and I’ll-”
“You know how I feel about threats on my ship, Jayne,” Mal’s voice was steel, despite his battered face. “If you’re going to be threatening me, you wanna have a good long think because the second you do, you’re off this boat.” He straightened, hiding a wince. Damn, but Jayne hit hard! “Listen up!” he snapped. “Now I admit I got a bit too angry over a dispute between me an’ Simon and did something I shouldn’t have. I promise on this boat that it won’t happen again.” He looked to Simon, who was nodding slowly. “That good enough for you?”
“No, not okay!” exploded Jayne. This was too much for Wash.
“Since when do you care what happens to Simon. You want to pound him half the time, but you go stupid when Mal does it? Hypocritical, I must say.”
“That’s different,” said Jayne lowly over his clenched fists. “I ain’t gonna hit him, no more.” He dared to raise his head to find blue eyes in a bruised face staring at him, wide in realisation.
“What?” Wash looked from one to the other. “What? Wha- oh.” His eyes opened almost comically wide and he back-pedalled quickly as Jayne glared at him. “That’s…um, that’s…nice…” His face rapidly turned red and he fought the urge to laugh. Zoe stepped protectively in front of her husband as Jayne’s glare intensified, but he showed no sign of imminent violence just yet.
The merc looked around resentfully – from Zoe and Wash’s amused looks, Mal’s bloodied features and Simon’s stunned face. “I think it’s time you and I set some thing straight. In my bunk.”
Simon swallowed hard and nodded.
“But, Mal…” Simon waved a free hand in the Captain’s direction. Jayne scowled.
“He’ll be fine. He’s had worse.” Without further ado, he dragged the medic down the corridor. Zoe caught the triumphant smile on Simon’s face as he went past at high speed.
Wash blinked, watching them go, then shook his head. “Why does everything on this ship revolve around violence?”
Zoe moved forward, linking her arm with his as she pulled him towards the bridge. “Because we live a simple life, dear.”
“Why don’t people talk anymore?”
“I don’t think talkin’ is what Jayne’s got on his mind.”
“And what’s with that? When did Jayne go gooey for Simon? I mean, I love you, o Venus of mine but I…”
Wash’s voice faded as he and his wife vanished into the bowels of the ship. Mal blinked, finding himself alone. The Captain swayed slightly, feeling bereft. “Im fine. No really, I'm fine. I’ll just go clean myself up, then,” he said to the empty room.
From the walkway above came a giggle.
“You can belt up too,” muttered Mal skyward. Affronted, he staggered off to the infirmary.
Mal touched his cheek gingerly, wincing at the resurgence of pain. His plan had worked well enough, but that hardly eased the pain of Jayne getting a few good licks in.
He looked up to see Zoe standing in the doorway, one eyebrow raised in amusement.
“Matchmaking again, sir?”
The Captain grunted, probing a tooth carefully with his tongue. It seemed loose. Gorram it, now he’d probably have to get it pulled.
“Well, it worked on you and Wash. Seems to have worked again.” He went to stand, only to wince as his bruised ribs protested. “Jayne sure hits a hell of a lot harder than you do, Zo.”
White teeth flashed as her smirk became a full blown grin. “I could have told you that, sir. Never figured you for a fool.”
“Yeah, well I missed him coming back aboard, otherwise I would have been prepared for him. I knew he fancied Simon but yowch –“ he palpitated his jaw again. “Why do people take so much satisfaction outta hittin’ me?”
“Couldn’t say, sir.” He glared sharply at her, but Zoe’s face was carefully schooled not to show her amusement.
“Yeah, well it was all for a good cause,” he muttered, disgruntled.
“I’m sure Simon’s face agrees with you, sir.” That earned her another sharp look.
“That? That was a love tap. Not my fault the boy bruises so easily. Must be all that fancy Alliance upbringing, makes a man all soft-like.” A raised eyebrow was the only response and he suddenly felt sheepish. “Well, I did apologise,” he smirked again suddenly, ignoring the pain in his face. “And I bet the good doctor won’t be complainin’ tonight.”
“Hmm,” she said neutrally, a tone he had come to dread in his first mate. “And who exactly is going to look after River while those two are busy?”