Summary: Inara and Jayne, rush hour and gunfire in the marketplace.
Calibre
by
Kel
His size might annoy someone of less control. Even with her back constantly and stonily turned to him, she could feel his shadow looming over her.
Inara paused and stepped to the right to avoid crashing into a passing man, who had the misfortune of missing her to bump shoulders with Jayne. With the throng of people surrounding them as thick as the molasses she'd tasted as a child, neither her distinct air of status nor his unseemly manner were enough to prevent the occasional collision.
Normally, she knew that her presence in a room commanded a certain level of attention, and she imagined his did as well – but of a more wary variety.
Which was likely why Mal insisted he follow her on this trek – that and the fact that it annoyed her to no end. Usually she had Kaylee's company as well on shopping trips such as these, and the girl provided a soothing buffer against the gruff, crude man. With the mechanic out elsewhere spending time with the young doctor, Jayne had nowhere to channel his energy other than appearing intimidating to passing onlookers and staring at her ass.
"What d'ya gotta go an' get here, 'nyways? Din't think this place were fancible 'nough for yer hard-earned cash."
Inara did not roll her eyes. Instead, she calmly replied as she would were she speaking to any respectable man. "Just because the shops appear a little uncouth, Jayne, does not mean they don't carry quality goods. In fact, Dandello Mercy happens to sell the finest silk outside of Sihnon."
"Y'mean I'm herdin' you through rush hour s'you kin buy yerself some pretty silk drawers?"
"Well, this isn't exactly my idea of a stroll through the park," Inara retorted. "In fact, it wasn't my idea at--"
Not too far ahead, shouting which had been nearly unnoticeable background noise turned to screams as gunfire broke out. Moving quickly, Jayne grabbed Inara by the arm and yanked her to himself, spinning their bodies in tandem to shield hers with his as the shots rang on.
Inara felt something wet spray onto her left cheek before Jayne pushed her down and behind cover and her knees crashed painfully into the ground. Chaos surrounded them as the crowd stampeded away from stray bullets, but they managed to remain relatively safe from being trampled, crouching behind a fried dog stand.
"Gorramit," Jayne snarled, "didn't even earn this'un." He seemed miles further ahead on the uptake than she was, too startled for words even as he was peering over the stand to assess the situation, gun in hand through she hadn't noticed him taking it out. Inara was shocked to see a small patch of blood blooming on his left shoulder. She touched her cheek, and her fingers came away red with it.
He seemed not to notice. "Looks like they ain't interested in us."
"What," Inara asked, confusion colouring her voice. She'd never before had the experience of feeling dumb next to Jayne, and she didn't much like it. Shaking her head, she moved to mirror his position, peeking over the stand as meat sizzled on top of it. She was in time to see two men standing back to back in a ring of bodies as the guns went silent. This was what Mal, Jayne, and Zoe must have looked like at the end of so many of their jobs.
The silence didn't last long, as the wail of Alliance sirens approached.
"Let's get the hell outta dodge 'fore them cops get here," Jayne suggested. She began to move away, but he grabbed her by the arm again. "Wait, hold on a sec."
Inara's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, then lifted to the sky as he switched his gun gingerly to his left hand, then raised his right to swipe her cheek with his sleeve. "Can't have no companion runnin' 'round with blood on 'er face." Of course not. Someone would notice.
She caught herself watching his eyes as he finished the task of cleaning her up with a surprisingly tender hand.
No, she realized, he wasn't large and imposing. She and he were exactly the same size.
End.