Disclaimer: Firefly and her crew are not mine, all hail Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy etc.

Feedback is welcome.

This is the beginning of a fair-sized story I have been working on over the past few weeks, getting back to writing for the first time in several years. Special thanks to Neroli, Silk1, Tori Deathangel, Inalasahl and KateShines, as reading their work gave me the inspiration to start this. I thought I would begin by putting it up in bits and see what people thought. So, people?

I share the Jaynegang's obsession with all things Jayne. I like the River/Jayne pairings out there, but I imagine him with someone older, more of a challenge, so to speak. So, here she is.

Chinese translations:

feng le: crazy, insane
hun dan: lout, damn fool
qin qie di xian sheng: kind gentleman
tao yan di pi ren: repugnant unprincipled person

Hunter

Selene smoothed the rich gold tunic she had chosen to wear over the flowing orange and yellow petals of skirt that fell to her ankles. She carefully pulled from a small carved wooden box a delicate gold chain, and two very substantial gold wrist cuffs, which she placed as the only adornment on her otherwise bare and pale arms. The gold chain, with it's tiny heart pendant ringed in perfectly cut, tiny diamonds, was placed gently back into the box, with only the slightest hesitation. Selene closed the lid.

She looked into the full length mirror to survey the results. Although no longer a young woman, Selene was quite stunning, and even she had to admit she was proud of her appearance now. She had already spent at least an hour on her makeup and hair, while in transit. Her changeable eyes (at the moment seemingly very blue) were lined with kohl, and painted in shimmery golds and coppers. Her lips, painted copper. Her hair, well, it was staying put. She had swept up her unruly shoulder-length auburn curls into a chignon, pinned it with two black lacquer and gold combs, and left tendrils swirling at her face and back of her neck. The skirt and tunic lengthened her already tall frame, and altogether she looked appropriately elegant.

Although she was only going aboard a grimy space station in the furthest reaches of the habitable 'verse (and hopefully for only the briefest of visits), Selene wanted to look every bit the part of the companion she was pretending to be. If they suspected an impostor, things could become very uncomfortable, very quickly, and the small knife she had hidden in a leather sheath strapped to her upper right thigh would be little defence against angry slave traders.

Selene breathed deeply, and thought about her upcoming performance. To pull off this particular job, she would need to appear imperious and high-handed without being too arrogant, enough to throw the traders off their guard, to give in to her requests, but not so much as to piss them off.

"Alright, time to go", Selene said out loud as she turned, slipped on a pair of golden wedge slippers. They would help with the gliding walk she would need to carry off the demeanour of a seasoned companion. She really did prefer her sturdy leather boots, made for her by a master cobbler on Persephone, the ones with the real rubber soles, but they were safely stowed away, out of sight. Joining them was her usual casual attire, all linen and cotton and leather: worn and snug khaki pants, slim-fitting tanks, loose shirts, clothes that made her feel real and connected to the worlds she only visited. This silk, satin and brocade get up she had on made her feel, as her friend Ban-Wei would say, like a sheep on its hind legs. She liked to remember Ban-Wei's voice, with it's outlier accent and colourful slang, she could even imitate it pretty well when the situation called for it. But it wasn't her. Nor were the cultured tones she used when in her guise of companion. Today, her casual persona and simple clothes were hidden away. Today she would speak like a companion as well as look like one.

Selene looked at her surroundings once more. The interior of her shuttle was decorated as a travelling companion's should be, not lush exactly but certainly neat and well-appointed, clean, and with any luck it would not be viewed at all by any of the traders. But one should always be prepared for uncomfortable possibilities, she thought.

She breathed deeply once more, and approached the airlock, where her shuttle had been docked the past 20 minutes or so during her final preparations.

On the other side of the airlock was a rather grubby little man, who didn't seem to know whether to have his jaw on the floor in some kind of awe, or leer at Selene suggestively. She suppressed the twin urges to smack him and vomit, and demanded to be shown the merchandise.

...

Jayne Cobb was a man not unused to pain. He currently coming out of a drugged stupor, had been beaten rather badly (he remembered with a grim mental smile that he had taken down at least five of them before he was subdued), and was bound hand and foot, gagged, and blindfolded. He was kneeling on the ground, surveying the various pains as they hissed their way through his awareness. His mind was racing a mile a minute, and he had already thought of dozens of ways to affect his escape... if only he weren't bound hand and foot, gagged and blindfolded. And probably half out of his mind with the drugs they had pumped into him. And he was awful thirsty. That sensation had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

He had been grabbed outside a tavern on Hereafter, where he was having a well-deserved local brew after escaping a job that had, of course, gone horribly not according to plan. Mal and Zoë were to meet him there, but they hadn't showed yet. Jayne had been mad as a hornet in a glass jar, waiting around for the two of them in that tavern. He had stalked out back to take a piss and check if there were any ladies lookin' for some company, when a bunch of men followed him outside and cornered him. Thinking about Mal and Zoë again, right now he was feeling mostly glad they weren't there. Misery might love company, but he didn't wish his current situation on anyone else, let alone shipmates who he had come to kinda like and respect and stuff. Damn, but he was thirsty.

He tried to put his dry cottony mouth out of his mind and focus on sounds. He had heard a shuttle dock, that he was sure of. He knew he was in space, smelt that in the recycled air. He could be on a ship, but he didn't hear the engine sounds of a ship around him. Maybe a space station then. The accents of his captors were strange, and speaking of which those men didn't seem to bear him any particular grudge. Slavers, most likely, he thought, 'cause anyone who has it out for me personally would've had words with me by now. And probably I wouldn't be breathing neither.

As Jayne was putting this together in his head, lining up his thoughts like bottles up against a wall, he heard voices, one of them a women, which piqued his curiosity.

...

Selene was incensed. The grubby little man, who told her his name was Clem, had taken her to a room filled with similarly grubby, tired-looking, skinny and poorly-fed young men, intimating to her that this was the selection from which she had to choose. She looked over the about eight or nine boys. Poor things. The thought jumped into her head before she had time to swat it aside. She steeled herself and focussed her animosity on the slaver. "Feng le hun dan! You must be mad" she said with disdain. "I am looking for a bodyguard, a manservant, not a little boy. I require protection; this is a dangerous part of the universe and I have little time for your idea of a joke". She felt snappish and thought that her first impulse to smack the little man called Clem had perhaps been the best one she had that day. Instead, she forced a smile, and wheedled ever so slightly. "Qin qie di xian sheng, surely you must have other slaves or indentureds I could part from you? Indeed, I can't think that you would allow me to go off into this system unprotected? You seem a man of honour..." and she let the sentence drop, as she lowered her eyes demurely.

Clem was once again torn between picking his jaw up off the floor and leering. "Don't see many companions out here" he managed to sputter, "This is all we got for sale right now, but I do have a couple in the back what we just recently, uh, acquired, shall we say, but they ain't been broken or fitted, or nothing..."

Selene seized upon this opportunity. And Clem's grubby arm, to her amazement without wincing or vomiting. Clem seemed similarly amazed. "Well why didn't you say so, let's take a look, shall we?" and steered him towards where he had indicated "the back" to be, and allowed him to lead her along the corridors of the station.

They entered a room with seven men, all bound and gagged and blindfolded. Most were lying down, or on their knees. Selene recognized her target immediately, but felt instinctively she should play coy with Clem. She needed to successfully pull this off. She pointed at one of the men, who had managed to stand, but now stood slouching in a corner. "What about him?" she asked of Clem. "Tell me about him."

Clem looked at the man Selene had pointed out —- a tall, well-muscled man, short dirty blond hair -— and pulled out some sort of electronic device from his pocket, poking the keys. Selene had to stay her reflex to attack Clem when she saw him go for his pocket -— a weapon was her first thought -— but she did visibly relax when she saw the portable vid and the information it scrolled through upon Clem's command. Luckily, Clem was too absorbed in his current task to notice the "companion" seemed a mite jumpy.

"Rawwhht". Clem drawled the word out until it was almost unrecognizable. "This feller's name is Borden Smith, according to his ident. 'Course, that could be an alien or sumpin". Selene translated in her head quickly. Alias, alien, same diff. out here, she thought.

"But you think he mighta stolen a better ident than a serial rapist's, given the option...". Clem leered at Selene, who supposed she must not have looked appropriately horrified, since then Clem began to outline Mr. Smith's rape, murder, and dismemberment preferences as set forth in over 16 arrest warrants. Selene could see them well enough on the vid.

"Well then, whether or not he is this Mr. Smith, he is clearly unsuitable for my requirements" Selene interjected, before Clem could assail her with any more unsavoury details. Selene was steering back to imperious now, cold and business-like. "Let's move along then, shall we?" She watched her technique work, as Clem stuttered a bit and his expression returned from leer back to awe. Time to go for what she came for. "Him", she pointed at Jayne, who was on his knees, head bowed down. "What's his story?"

Clem stared for a moment at Selene. This one looked way scarier than her first choice, a real tao yan di pi ren, and for a moment he wondered if this companion wasn't a bit off her rocker. But, he mentally shrugged, a sale is a sale, I gots no interest if she gets herself killed by her own bodyguard. Long as it ain't on my station. He stared at the vid, as it spewed out details from the man's ident card. "Fergus Mitchell. Farmer. Indentured family, paid out a coupla years back. No criminal record."

He glanced back up at "Fergus". No way that man was just a farmer. Took out five very tough men before they could get him sedated. Helping their "drunk friends" was the easiest way to gather their quota without raising too much suspicion on the nearby worlds. Though, most of the tavern owners had probably figured out Clem's business by now. Seemed to be a lot of drunk off-worlders who were "friends" with Clem's men!

Clem knew the man not likely really named Fergus would fetch a good price — he looked to be strong enough to handle any manner of hard work, and Clem thought it possible he could be ex-military, maybe a merc. That bit about no criminal record almost made Clem laugh when he read it out, this guy didn't learn to fight like that on a farm. Prison, work camps, or the military. Maybe a bit of each....

Selene meanwhile was thinking along the same lines as Clem, watching the wheels in his mind turn, knowing that she would need to make an attractive offer for the little grub to give up what she wanted.

"Take off his blindfold, please", she said, her tone haughty. Clem started a bit, as he was deep into thinking about price. He didn't want to go anywhere near the man, the memory of five of his badly bruised and beaten men still fresh in his mind. "Now, please." Selene was pushing and she knew it, she read the hesitation and slight fear in Clem and she wanted to keep her advantage and keep him off-kilter.

Clem found himself walking towards Fergus without even realizing he was doing so. Is it too late to call for some muscle to do this, he thought. Yeah, if he did that now, he would look like a coward. He did pause for a moment then, and took out what appeared to be a smallish baton from a holster at his hip. It hummed. Electric, thought Selene, a cattle prod or the like.

Before he had been selected for examination by Selene, Jayne had been deep in thought, calculating his position in the room, where the woman was, where Clem was. He tried to hold himself very still throughout the conversation, and he continued to remain nearly motionless as Clem approached. There were a coupla ways to play this, he had thought to himself. He could try to take out the slaver who was approaching him now, then the girl, then who knows how many others before he got to a shuttle or some other way off this gorram piece of space junk. Or he could sit tight, play at being the obedient slave, take a good long look at this girl, maybe play up to her, and make his escape when she took him out of this place. Patience was not Jayne's strong suit, but he was learning, he thought. He listened to her voice when she spoke, her voice was deep and clear, cultured, educated. Sounded like Inara a bit, the way her voice lilted softly, yet with a force and confidence behind it, like she knew she could bend the will of any man to whom she spoke.

He sensed Clem coming behind him, but he kept his head down until Clem yanked it back by tugging on the blindfold. He breathed in and prepared himself.

He wasn't expecting the sight of her when Clem ripped off that blindfold. She was shiny. In every sense of the word. She seemed to gleam, her skin, her clothes, just ... her, and Jayne looked at her just like Clem had, a bit in awe and a bit of a leer. Of course, he didn't even see Clem's expression, since the little grub stayed behind him, electric baton at the ready if Jayne made any trouble at all. Nevertheless, he gaped at Selene, and made the realization that he had the good fortune of being sized up for sale to a companion. Oh, this just was too good for words. He could get outta this gorram place right now if he didn't screw it up....

Selene knew it was him when she walked in the room, long before the blindfold came off; she just wanted to be absolutely sure. Now that she could see his eyes, she studied him, coldly and clinically, both for the benefit of Clem and for her own mental record. It was apparent he had been battered a bit, there was bruising to his left eye, and some swelling at his jaw and temple. A big man, tall, broad in the shoulders and thighs, solidly muscled. Hair short and dark, eyes blue. She looked into his eyes, and was a little surprised to see them pleading to her. She could feel fear rising from him. What she had read of his ident profile (his real one) did not lend itself to such weakness, she thought. It must be this place, he wants out. And likely he is trying to play me, looking for all the world like a lost puppy. Well, let him think his puppy-dog eyes are doing their work, it'll make it easier for me to get him out of here.

"And the gag, please", Selene ordered. Jayne's eyes widened slightly. Don't screw up, his brain commanded him. Clem, from his guarded position behind Jayne, looked every bit as confused as Jayne did. But Selene was definitely in her role, and Clem obeyed her after a very slight hesitation. The gag came out of Jayne's mouth, but he kept quiet —- he was listening to his brain for once and he didn't trust himself to not say something stupid. Besides which, his tongue felt like an old sock in his mouth, and kinda tasted that way too. He didn't even know if he would be able to talk again ever, his throat was so dry. Weren't even able to moisten his lips, his whole mouth felt so gummy.

"Get him some water, please, I need to ask him some questions". Selene knew the effects of the drugs and gag on one's ability to speak, and she also knew she would have to continue to play her part —- no companion was going to travel with a bodyguard who would, by association, make her appear less than professional and cultured. Clem was still gawking, but this time he had the presence of mind to call for some muscle for assistance, while he continued to guard the prisoner. The muscle, in the form of an enormous bald man, both tall and wide, entered the small prisoner holding room, with what appeared to be a canteen of some sorts. He stood in front of Jayne, who had straightened up and kept his back stiff and tall, his head up, eyes straight ahead. The muscle grabbed Jayne by the hair at the back of his head with his left hand, and roughly jerked his head back, pouring the canteen's content into Jayne's mouth with his right. Jayne sputtered a bit, but surprisingly managed to swallow a good portion of the metallic-tasting water, and only a small amount overflowed from his mouth, down his chin, and onto his t-shirted chest. The muscle released Jayne's head and stepped back in the same swift movement. Actually fairly impressive for such a massive guy, thought Selene.

"Good. Now, Mr. ... ", Selene began. "Mitchell", Clem supplied at her hesitation. Selene nodded at Clem, "Thank you", and then continued to speak to Jayne. "Mr. Mitchell, you are a farmer by trade?"

Jayne couldn't help himself. He gawked. The water stain on his t-shirt and being all tied up and helpless and on his knees made him feel like an even bigger idiot than how he usually felt talking to a cultured lady, and he still didn't know if he was even able to speak. And his brain kept screaming at him not to blow this chance to get out of this place, and it was making him jittery. He gathered his wits about him, swallowed again, and licked his lips. "Yes ma'am". He managed to gruffly push the words out. His voice sounded strange even to him though. A bit strangled. Nervous. Gorramit, he had to get out of here!

"Have you had any schooling?" Selene saw the look of pleading and fear in the man's eyes. She wasn't heartless, and she felt a pang of guilt keeping the man wondering if she would abandon him to the mercy of these slavers, but she pushed that thought down. He doesn't deserve your pity, Selene, she thought to herself. Save that for those he has hurt or killed over the years.

"Some, ma'am, I'm afraid education wasn't so important where I grew up". Jayne was using his very best manners and words. He really wanted to swear, he was tired and beaten up and ready to kill someone, but he knew he had to be on his best behaviour. He wasn't stupid, just impatient. Plenty of times when he'd been out tracking he'd had to sit still and bide his time, this was no different....

Selene arched an eyebrow, and continued. "I am a companion. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes ma'am". Jayne kept his eyes on Selene and his head up.

"I am looking for a bodyguard, protection for my person and my belongings. Have you ever performed this sort of work?"

Jayne thought about telling the truth then, that in fact he had been a bodyguard of sorts—like many mercs he did whatever task his employer wanted at the time. He chose instead to answer like the farmer, Fergus Mitchell would. He shook his head slowly, and said, "No ma'am". He still kept his eyes locked with Selene's though, something a lowly farmer would likely not do.

"Do you think yourself capable of such work?" Selene kept her eyes locked with Jayne's. She was a little surprised he had not answered her last question in the affirmative, but then, she supposed he was just playing his role to the hilt. Just like she was....

"Yes, I believe so ma'am".

"I am often in very refined company, and I would require you to be silent in the presence of company, and of course I would expect you to discuss my clients and my affairs with no-one. Do you believe yourself capable of these ... restrictions?"

"Yes ma'am. I am a man of few words at the best of times". Jayne allowed himself to give a small, pleading smile to the companion. She really was something, he couldn't stop from staring. Be a shame to have to steal her ship, but a man's gotta do what he's gotta do, he thought. Anything to get out of this hole. Hope she won't fight too hard; wouldn't want to hurt her.

Selene was silent, looking at the kneeling man very coldly indeed. She saw the pleading in his eyes, his shy smile, but she saw the cunning underneath —- it seemed to scream from this man's every pore. She knew he would be perfectly willing to, and in fact likely would, inevitably, betray her. But he didn't have a clue who she really was. His reaction to that news would be interesting, she thought. The old adage "out of the frying pan and into the fire" came to mind. He held her gaze for a moment, then lowered his eyes and his chin, to appear humble in her presence, she supposed. And vulnerable. He's good, she thought.

Clem was still in his position behind Jayne. The muscle had positioned himself behind her, at the doorway to this small room. When Selene finally spoke again, it was to Clem. "Alright, he'll do". Clem was a bit surprised that the companion would want this big hick, but he recovered quickly enough to bargain with her. They were arguing prices, but the debate seemed to be little more than buzzing in Jayne's ears. He continued to focus on a spot on the floor, not allowing himself to smile or betray any feeling at all. He would be outta this hole, and with just a fancy woman between him and freedom, nothing could stop him once they were alone.

...

Almost an hour later, as Clem counted the rather generous number of gold and platinum coins Selene had given him (she had argued him down considerably from his rather ridiculous starting price), the big bald muscle man cut Jayne's bindings at his feet, leaving his hands still bound behind his back, and led him along to Selene's shuttle. Selene was already inside, seated at the console, making her preparations. She had left the airlock doors open to Clem's space station, and muscle actually knocked as he brought Jayne in.

"Do you want him doped for travel?" the big man asked, as he nudged Jayne into the shuttle before stooping to come in behind him. Jayne kept his head down the entire time, but his heart almost stopped —- if he was doped, escape would be impossible. Selene, still seated, reviewed the scene before her —- Jayne with his head bowed down, his body language indicating compliance and defeat -- and entertained the thought of having the big merc put out of commission for the journey. But something about it just didn't seem fair. Besides which, there were two very good reasons not to: first, she needed information from him, and that was best accomplished with her own mix of charm and pharmaceuticals; second, she had just bought a bodyguard, as far as these lumps were concerned. An unconscious bodyguard was of no use to a companion. Right. She would just have to handle whatever Jayne had planned for her. "No, thank you. You may seat him over there". Selene gestured to a well-cushioned chair, bolted to the floor about two feet or so from the shuttle bulkhead. The muscle led Jayne, his hands still bound behind his back, to the chair, and pushed Jayne's shoulders to seat him there. As the chair was low to the ground, Jayne found his knees nearly reached his chin, and the cushions seemed to suck him right it. He would find it a mite difficult to get out of this confounded chair. He stared straight ahead, trying to keep from looking frustrated, while he kept thinking about his soon-to-be daring escape.

"Thank you for your assistance, Mr. ....?"

"I'm called Rabb, ma'am".

"Thank you, Rabb. You may tell Mr. Clem that I shall be launching in about five minutes". Selene smiled graciously from her seat, and nodded her goodbye to Rabb, who squeezed back out the airlock without closing the hatches between the space station and the shuttle. Selene sighed. She got up and closed the hatches and secured them, and then turned to Jayne, who sat expressionless in her favourite comfy chair. "Right, we'd better secure you then, Mr. Mitchell". She was going to keep up the pretences for just a little while longer. Jayne looked up at her, thinking he had an opportunity here, with her having to get close, but he wasn't sure if this was the right time to make his move. Better to gain her trust and then.... He tried to keep his expression neutral.

Selene approached him quickly, and brought out a metal band about six inches wide from the drawer of a table in front of him. She worked very quickly, wrapping the band across his chest and around the back of the chair, where she fastened the ends together, he didn't know how. All the sudden he was pinned to the chair. He didn't hardly have a chance to move before she was all done. And when she was close to him, it seemed all he could do was breathe in her scent. She smelled like apples, and fresh berries. Dammit Jayne, keep your head clear! She moved in front of him again, as he was now a prisoner in her comfy chair, and she smiled warmly at him. She looked right into his eyes, and Jayne held her gaze. She put her hand on his knee. Her hand felt warm through the fabric. Jayne could smell her and feel her warmth so close to him, and wondered for a crazy moment if the companion had bought him to be her man-whore. Damn, but that wouldn't be the worst thing ever happened to him!

"There, now you won't get tossed around, and we can get to know each other without you trying to jump me and take over my ship". She had said it with a smile, and so matter-of-factly that Jayne couldn't help his expression: he gawked. Again.

"Wh... What makes you think I would do sumthin' like that?" he managed to sputter. She just smiled, infuriatingly, and said, "Mr. Cobb, I wasn't born yesterday."

And with that, she removed her hand, got up, turned and sat in the pilot's chair, and began takeoff procedure. They were in the air before her comment fully registered. Gorramit, she had called him Mr. Cobb. She knew who he was, and she had known all along. So, likely she didn't want him to be her man-whore.

Well, he thought, at least he wasn't on that gorram slaver station anymore; maybe this would turn out to be a good thing. Jayne doubted that, but he had little to do strapped into this comfy chair. He needed to keep his mouth shut too, until he learned what she was up to. So he just sighed, and relaxed. He would stay alert, though, in case she tried anything funny.