It was autumn, and autumn on Shadow had always been her favourite time of year. Other people always said it made them sad, that seeing all the leaves falling made them think of death, but she said it was quite the other way around.

"See, it just means things are going to sleep. And come spring, they're gonna be new and green and stronger'n ever. And just so's we don't forget, they go out in a blaze of glory."

Her mother had sighed, shaken her head, but smiled all the same as she mended yet another of her brother's shirts. "Ginny, you are a romantic."

"Don't care," Virginia Reynolds had said. "S'true."

And she had been, but that was a long time ago. A war ago. A war and countless years of pain ago.

"I should never've come back."

"Huh?"

"I should've stayed away."

Jayne Cobb stopped in the middle of the track, dust puffing up around his booted feet. "Are you totally fong luh?" He shook his head, making the bag on his back rattle. "It's your home."

"No." Her lips tightened. "Not for a long time."

"He's going to want to see you."

"Right. All that time, he hardly wrote."

"Maybe he did, and they didn't let you see the letters."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you." Jayne Cobb, a semi-mountain of a man, had been her sergeant during the war with the Alliance, loyal to her rather than the Independent cause, waiting for her to finish the prison sentence she'd been handed down after the final defeat. War criminal ... he had always scoffed at the title. Ginny Reynolds was anything but. "He's your kid brother. How can he not want to see you?"

"I walked away."

"You joined the war. Did what you thought was right."

"Left him to run the ranch when Ma died."

It was an old argument that neither of them truly ever won. "And from what the folks in town were saying, he's done it damn well."

"But he always wanted to go out into space. See the 'verse." She went down onto her heels, picking up a stick and scratching in the dust. "I took that from him."

"Weren't nothing stopping him selling up," Jayne pointed out, seeing her write a name then rubbing it out of existence. "Coulda done that any time."

"That's not ... he wouldn't've."

"Then don't take on guilt for something that wasn't your fault."

"Nope. Not your fault."

Ginny stood up, her hand going to the gun fastened to her hip, her mind ready to ... "Mal?"

A man had come around the corner unobserved. Tall, maybe only a few inches shy of Jayne's height, he had a shock of brown hair that flopped over his forehead, and blue eyes that were fixed on her. "Ginny."

She couldn't move, just stared at him. He looked older, but that was to be expected. It had been more than ten years. But there was still the taste of the boy in his face, in the way he stood, like life was something to be approached with joyous caution. Only maybe now more caution than joy. "Mal." It was all she could say, her mouth moving but no other words coming out.

Malcolm Reynolds looked at the man accompanying his sister. "You Jayne Cobb?"

"Yeah." Jayne stepped forwards, his hand held out. "That's me."

"Thanks for the wave."

"No problem."

They shook.

Ginny recovered her voice enough to ask, "You let him know we were coming?"

"Yep." Jayne looked at her. "From town. Figured it'd be better not being a total shock."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"Didn't want you to turn tail and run."

"Ginny's never run from anything, have you?" Mal put in, gazing at his older sister.

"Well, I ..." She felt her tongue tie.

Mal smiled faintly. "Drink?" he offered, looking at the tall man again, noting the goatee neatly trimmed, the muscles pressing through the thin t-shirt and loose combat pants. "I've got some fine sipping whisky if you want, or if you're not a drinker there's some lemonade. I think."

Jayne's lips twitched, along with his nethers. "Whisky'd be fine." Damn, this was a good looking man.

"Good." Mal turned, took a couple of steps down the dusty white road. "Ginny? You coming? Or are you planning on standing there doing an impression of a goldfish for the duration?"

She slammed her mouth shut, then had to open it again to grind out, "Whisky. Yeah. Sure."

"S'nice place," Jayne said, looking around the kitchen. A good heavy oven, refrigerator, Cortex screen in the corner ... everything was neat and clean, almost like a soldier. "Don't look like there's a woman's touch, though." No flowers, and the curtains at the window were plain, not patterned.

"No woman," Mal admitted, pouring the whisky. "Not for a long time."

"I thought we'd be in the parlour," Ginny said, sitting at the old table. "Seeing as we're visitors."

"Not visitors," Mal said, handing her a glass. "Family ain't visitors. And this place is as much yours as mine. Ma left it to the both of us."

She coloured, just a delicate hint of pink on her cheekbones. "Yeah, Mal, about that ..."

"She always said it was your home. Even when you left like you did."

"Yeah." Like a thief in the night. That was the phrase that had haunted her for a long time, from one of the few letters that had gotten through to her during the campaign.

"She always regretted writing that," Mal said.

Ginny hadn't realised she'd spoken the words aloud. "She wasn't gonna let me leave."

"You were an adult. She couldn't stop you." He sat down opposite her.

"She would have tried."

"Of course she would. You were her daughter, her baby." Mal sipped his whisky, feeling it burning his throat as he swallowed.

Jayne stood back, next to the stove, feeling the warmth emanating from it. He wasn't needed, not right now, but he wasn't going to go far from Ginny, just in case.

"Mal, I had to go. I had to fight for what I believed."

"I know." He put his head slightly on one side. "So did Ma. But that didn't stop it hurting her."

"You think I don't know that?" The words burst from her mouth in anguish, and she wished she could bite them back. "Do you think I wished I could talk to her just once more? Say I'm sorry? Say goodbye?"

"She knew you couldn't." Mal was holding himself tightly in check. "You were in prison. They weren't going to let you out just to visit your dying mother."

His words stung more than the whips that had coursed across her back. "I didn't do what they said," she whispered. "I didn't do those things."

"I know."

She looked into his eyes, trying to see if he was lying, just saying that because it was what she wanted to hear. "I didn't do them."

"Ginny, I know." He leaned forward, putting his hand on top of hers. "So did she."

She could feel the calluses from working with rope, from riding out to the cattle on the ranch, from the hundred and one things he did to keep it running. The things she should have been doing, instead of fighting a war that she didn't ... couldn't win.

She could feel tears prickling at her eyes, and she lifted her glass quickly to swallow a mouthful of whisky, hoping they'd think it was the alcohol burning down her throat that was making her blink so hard. "I shouldn't be here," she whispered.

"It's your home." Mal stood up. "Your room's ready. I've put on fresh sheets so you and Jayne can be comfortable."

"Me and ..." Ginny looked at the big man standing in the corner, making the kitchen seem smaller than she remembered. "Jayne and I ... we're not together. Not like that."

"Oh. Shiny. Then I'll make up the spare bed." He walked out.

Ginny gulped the rest of her whisky down, then wiped at her cheeks with the pads of her hands.

"Seems an okay feller," Jayne said quietly.

"Yeah." She sniffed hard.

"Are we staying?"

She didn't speak for a long moment, and he wasn't sure she knew, but then she said, almost whispering, "Yeah. For now."

He smiled slowly and tossed back his own drink down his throat. "Shiny."

Dinner that night was somewhat stilted, the conversation not touching on anything important so much as catching Ginny up on the goings on with the people they used to know. Almost as soon as they'd eaten Ginny claimed tiredness, and hurried to bed.

Jayne dawdled a little longer. "Want a hand?" he asked, watching Mal collect the supper things.

"Sure. I'll wash, you dry."

"No problem."

They were silent for a long while, then, as Mal handed him one of the glasses, he asked, "Jayne ... what happened to her?"

Jayne took the glass, polishing it until it shone, before he responded. "She lost a war." He gave a brief bark of laughter. "She was the best gorram soldier I'd ever seen, knowing by instinct what to do, how to do it, and damned if I didn't start to believe we could win. Least, until Serenity Valley." His cobalt eyes darkened. "They left us there for nigh on two weeks, dead and dying together, 'til it was hard to tell which was the corpse and which wasn't. Then when they took us, made us all prisoners ..." He put the glass down harder than he'd intended, and it skittered from his fingers and fell to the floor. It didn't break, but rolled around, the little ringing noise filling the kitchen. "War didn't end that day. We thought it would, but some of the folks Ginny had gotten away kept it running, turned it into guerrilla fighting, taking it to the Core ..."

"People died in those bomb attacks," Mal said quietly, his hands in the soapy water.

"Wasn't nothing to do with Ginny, no matter what they said."

"How can you be so sure?"

"'Cause I know her. Hell, so do you, Mal. She's your sis. D'you really think she let someone blow up women and kids?" He leaned on the counter. "They wanted an example. Made her the scapegoat. Not a gorram thing they said was true. You gotta believe that."

Something left Mal's shoulders, a tension that neither man would admit to. "They still locked her up."

"Yeah. But she's free now. Free to come home. If you'll have her."

Mal turned slowly. "If I'll ..."

"There ain't been a day when she's not thought about this. Coming back here. Do you know how worried she was when the rumours started about Shadow being scorched? She damn near tore her hair out, worrying about you. Then when she'd heard the planet had signed a deal, she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. S'why she wrote to you."

Mal looked surprised. "I didn't get any letters."

"Figured as much. But then, she didn't get any from you."

"No, now, that's not the case. I wrote. Maybe not as often as I should've, and not much the last year or so, but I wrote."

"Don't get your panties in a twist. I ain't saying you didn't. Just that she didn't get 'em."

Mal turned away, leaning on the sink and breathing hard. "Gorram Alliance."

"Yeah." Jayne bent down and picked up the glass. "So you can see how she didn't know what you were gonna say when she turned up. Why I waved from town."

Mal looked at him with newfound respect. "You care about her."

"She's about the only friend I've got. But more'n that, yeah ... I care. I love her."

"You ..." Mal's eyebrows threatened to disappear into his hair. "You love her?"

"Not like that. More like you do, I guess. Like a sister. I ain't never had one of those, but I guess that's how I feel about her. And I ain't gonna let anyone hurt her."

"Not even me?"

"Not even you."

Mal looked into those blue eyes, and felt something inside him warm. "Deal."

"Huh?"

"I don't hurt her."

"Well, good." Mal smiled, and Jayne felt his nethers twitch again. "Now, we gonna finish this or what?"

This time Mal laughed, reaching into the sink for a plate, and Jayne was glad he had a teacloth to hide his groin.

It was late, according to the clock, gone three in the morning, but the noise that had awoken him wasn't the alarm. Someone was crying out, words that made no sense, but the sound bit at his soul.

Mal stood up and went to his bedroom door, opening it slowly. Along the short corridor he could see Jayne doing the same, only he crossed quickly to Ginny's room.

"What's going on?" Mal whispered, following him, trying to ignore the fact that the other man was only wearing a pair of underpants, the moonlight coming in the window at the end clearly showing the mass of hair across his chest.

Jayne held up a finger to shush him. "Ginny," he mouthed. "Nightmares." Opening her door he slipped inside.

The sounds were louder now, and Mal could make out some of the phrases.

"Don't ... please ... don't." Ginny was thrashing in bed, the sheets caught up around her legs. "Dear God, no more!"

Jayne quickly lay down next to her, pulling her back against his bare chest and wrapping his arms around her. She struggled briefly, but the human contact seemed to calm her, and the words became more mumbles, then just noises, before she went limp.

"S'okay, Mal," Jayne said quietly. "You go on back to bed. I got this."

Mal stared, seeing the tenderness in the big man's face. "You sure?"

"She'll sleep okay now." Jayne smiled slightly. "Go on. If'n she wakes up and finds you here, she'll be mightily embarrassed."

"Okay." Still, it took all his willpower to leave the room, closing the door as quietly as he could. He leaned on it, determined to find out what the hell was going on.

"You told me you didn't sleep together," Mal said, opening the bathroom door.

"And good morning to you too." Jayne was shaving around his goatee, a towel around his waist.

"You told me –"

"I told you the truth. We don't have sex. That ain't us." Jayne pointed at him with his razor. "So don't you go getting all jealousyfied. But sometimes, she ... she just needs to be held."

Mal's anger, which had been burning in his chest since he'd gone back to bed, died a little. "You said it was nightmares?"

Jayne's enforced jollity died a little. "Yeah. I think she dreams about what they did to her."

"What they ... Jayne, you tell me what you mean, or so help me ..." His hands hardened into fists.

"They beat her, Mal." Jayne gazed at him, his words at total odds to the tranquillity about him. "Whipped her back until it bled, then did it again before it could heal. They thought they could get information out of her, that she'd tell 'em where the next attack was gonna be, but all she ever did was scream."

"She didn't know."

"Nope, she didn't." Jayne looked at his reflection in the mirror. "You ain't seen her back, Mal. I reckon I'm the only one as ever has."

Mal stood stockstill, taking the other man's words in. "I didn't know," he muttered.

"No reason you should." Jayne turned his head to look at him. "Now, you mind if I finish? 'Cause I'm kinda half naked here."

"Oh. Yeah." Mal backed out of the bathroom. "Sorry."

"No need to be sorry," Jayne said as the door closed. "No need at all."

The day passed amicably enough, as Mal and some of the other hands branded the young cattle that had been brought down from one of the higher levels.

Jayne worked alongside him, his strength an asset in holding a squirming calf, bellowing as the hot metal seared into its hide. He was grinning as he worked, enjoying the feeling of doing something physical, watching Mal out of the corner of his eye. The man was real suai, he considered, especially sweating like he was.

Ginny, bringing out food and cold drinks when they took a break, smiled,

"What's got you in such a good mood?" he asked, taking a glass of lemonade and swallowing half of it.

"You fancy my brother."

He glared at her. "Do not."

"Do too. I can see it." She leaned on the corral. "And I think it's mutual."

"That's crazy talk."

"I've seen the way you look at him, like you want to undress him."

"Ginny, he's your bro!"

"So? He looks at you the same way, when he thinks you can't see."

"He ain't sly."

"No?"

Jayne stood upright. "You mean he is?"

"I mean he likes you. You like him. Go for it."

"Are you saying ..." He shook his head. "Okay, now I know you're joking."

"Jayne, if you want him, don't wait. Tell him. I know what not saying something does." Her eyes, so like Mal's, saddened. "I lost so much time because I couldn't see what was under my nose. Don't you be the same."

"Ginny, if we ain't staying ..." He stopped. "Are we?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I honestly don't know."

Jayne glanced across at Mal, standing with the other men, wiping his forehead on his sleeve, and felt his blood pumping.

The men had gone back to the bunkhouse, getting ready to head into town for the evening's entertainment, leaving Jayne dropping buckets of water over his head. He'd stripped off his shirt, but left his pants on, and they were sticking to his legs, clearly outlining the strength of those limbs beneath.

"Mal, why do you hide it?"

Mal, watching the big man clean off, jumped. "Ginny, you always creep up on a man?"

"Force of habit." She leaned on the barn door. "Tell him."

"What?"

"Tell him what you feel."

Mal glared at her and started to stalk away. "Ginny, you don't know what you're talking about."

She wasn't going to let him get away that easily. "Then you tell me. Why do you hide how you feel?"

"I don't feel anything."

"Oh, come on. I held you when you were first born, I know you."

"Really?" He turned on her, embarrassment making his words harsher than he intended. "Is there anything for you to know? You haven't been here for so long, I wouldn't have thought you'd remember."

She swallowed but held her ground. "Mal, I know you never told Ma, and I know why. You thought she'd never understand. She would have. Hell, you were her son, she'd've understood any damn thing. But Laura's gone. Now it's just you, and you need someone."

"And you're thinking that's Jayne."

"Why not?"

"Because he's not interested, that's why not. Besides, maybe I've changed – maybe I like girls now."

"Mal, you never stopped liking girls. But apart from Laura you just never liked them ... that way."

"Anyway, what's it got to do with you?"

"Because Jayne's my friend."

"He's not interested. Seriously, I know. He's not –"

"Well, you know wrong. Jayne's ... complicated."

"Really? I figured it was pretty much what you see is what you get."

"Well, yeah, but what you see ain't necessarily on the surface."

"That doesn't make sense."

"No, I know. Look, I admit Jayne has been known to partake of the pleasures of female-type flesh occasionally, but that's only really when he can't find a willing man."

"You saying he's sly?"

"Kinda."

"What kinda answer is that?"

"About the only one you're gonna get. He's ... He likes women but he likes men too."

"But which way does he lean?"

"You sound all fired interested to know this now. Something you wanna tell me?"

"Ginny ..."

"Well, Jayne kinda treats everyone with equanimity. He doesn't really ... lean ... in any particular direction."

"So you mean he ain't choosy."

"Yeah. No, that's ... probably exactly the opposite. He's probably more choosy. Mal, he likes you. I can tell. I only have to look at him looking at you. And I know you feel the same way. Nothing wrong with that. He's a big ugly mug, and he's my best friend. He saved my life more times than I can count. He kept me going. He'd tell you I kept him going too, so maybe ... Maybe we're both as bad as each other. But he likes you. If you give him a chance, it could be more than like."

He strode away from her, tossing back over his shoulder, "Yeah. Like you know the answer to everybody's problems. 'Cept your own."

She ran after him, grabbed his arm to make him stop. "God, I have no answers. For the last couple of years I've just been winging it. You know, there was the camp, and then there was prison, and stuff ... I didn't make it out, Mal. Oh, I know what you see here, standing on Shadow's good earth, under Shadow's good sky, but it ain't me. I didn't make it. There's very little left of the girl who left here, the woman who walked away. And I missed so much." They stood toe to toe. "I know I can't come home. I know that. And you don't ... I know you're worried, that I'm gonna try and take it away from you."

"That's not so," he protested, but she ignore him.

"I know Ma left it to the pair of us, equally, but this place is yours. You kept it going after Ma died. You kept life going, Mal. Okay, you didn't go off to war, you didn't go off and kill folks, have them shooting at you, trying to blow you up, cutting on you with their damn whips until all you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide, only it hurt so much you couldn't move. You stayed. You might think you're hard done by, but ... I wish I'd never left. 'Cause then I'd never've lost –"

"What? Go on. You were gonna say something. Who, Ginny? Who'd you lose? Who'd you lose that made you like this?"

"Lost a war, Mal. That's all it needs, to be empty."

"No. No, there's more. Gorramit, why won't you talk to me? You used to. You used to tell me everything. Hell, I told you. I told you about … everything, and I know you never told anyone else."

"But that's the point, Mal. It was a long time ago. I can't."

"You know, you gotta try. I mean, you're telling me, I should let Jayne in, I should take a chance. Well, you need to give me one too. I'm your brother. You gotta trust me. I know you haven't come here to take over, take everything away from me. This is your home, where you belong. Not out there. Sure, hell, I wanted to see the stars. I wanted to see them fill the night sky, see if they glittered as much close up. I still do. But this is home. And it's important to both of us. It makes everything worthwhile. Makes everything mean something."

"So are you gonna tell Jayne?"

"Are you gonna stop this?"

"No. Are you gonna start something?"

"I ... I don't know, okay? I don't know. I ain't had someone in my bed for so long. I'd kinda gotten used to it being empty."

"Yeah. I know how that is. But if I didn't have Jayne ... I wouldn't be here. I'd have ate my gun a long while back."

Shock made his face go pale. "You can't say that."

"I can, 'cause it's true. He saved my life."

"Are you trying to ... are you ..." His voice hitched. "You're not trying to tell me you're planning to do something stupid, are you?"

"No. I'm not. It's been a long time since I thought that way. 'Sides, that would only make it end, not make it better. So, no. Not thinking about that. Not no more. Mal, you need him. You need him to make you feel like a man, not just Malcolm Reynolds, rancher, but Mal, the man. You know, it wouldn't take much."

"Ginny, don't you dare."

She backed away, her eyes sparkling. "All I have to do is tell him that you want –"

"Don't you dare!"

"Jayne!" she began to call, but Mal's arms around her waist wrestled her to the ground and he sat on her hips, holding her arms in the dirt. "Let go."

"Not until you promise." Mal knew they looked ridiculous, a grown man holding his sister down, something he should have grown out of a couple of decades ago.

"No."

"Promise! Or I'll dunk you in the horse trough. And don't think I won't."

She pouted, remembering just such an occasion when he'd extracted a promise from her not to tell their Ma about finding him and Laura in the haybarn together, naked as jaybirds, then going running off and telling her anyway. Retribution had been swift, and very cold. "Okay. I won't."

"You promise?"

"I promise. For now."

"Look, there's not –"

"Just for now."

"Ginny, this is not how things work. You promise, end of story."

"It's as good as you're gonna get." She wriggled under him. "Let me up."

"Ginny ..."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, tah muh duh."

"You want I should leave you two alone?" Jayne's voice asked.

Mal looked up, seeing the big man standing over them, grinning, his shirt tossed casually over his shoulder. "Shit." He let his sister go and stood up.

"Something I should know?" Jayne leaned forwards and helped Ginny to her feet. "You want I should kill him for yah?"

Ginny brushed herself down. "No. If I decide that, I'll do it myself."

"Fair enough."

Mal glared at her, then said, "Get yourself cleaned up. Unless you don't want to go into town." He walked away, hands thrust deep into his pockets.

It was just a local dance, a celebration of the harvest having been gotten safely in, but there was punch and music and dancing, and a table groaning with enough food to keep an entire town fed for a month.

Ginny and Jayne stood to one side, watching the townspeople trying hard not to stare at them.

"You ever get the feeling this was a bad idea?" she asked quietly.

Jayne shrugged. "Pretty much all the time." He'd been made to leave his guns back at the ranch, and was feeling particularly naked. He nodded towards a group of men. "He's kinda cute."

"Who?"

"Him. Guy in the red shirt."

"He's okay. Not a patch on Mal, a'course."

"Never said he was."

She turned to stare at him. "I knew it!"

"What?"

"You want my brother!"

"What?"

"You want to bed Mal!"

"Gorramit, Ginny, keep your voice down!" Jayne glanced from side to side, hoping nobody had heard.

"You do, though, don't you?"

His eyes bored into hers, but he finally just sighed and said, "What if I do?"

"Good."

"What the … what?"

"Good." She turned away from him, easily finding Mal in the crowd by the food table. "He deserves a good man."

"Ginny, I ain't good. Not by any definition I can conjure."

"Then a man to make him feel good."

"Ginny …"

"You could always ask him to dance."

"What?" He coughed, clearing his throat of the high-pitched squeak he'd produced. "Here? Are you crazy?"

"Some people think so."

"Yeah, well I'm one of 'em."

"You could though. Ask him."

"No."

"I could ask him for you."

"Don't even think about it."

"He likes you."

"Huh?" Now he stared at her.

"He likes you. I know. I can tell." She sipped the punch in her cup, wondering why they made it quite so sweet.

"You don't know nothing about it."

"Jayne." She turned to look at him again. "Be happy. For both of us."

"You really are crazy, ain't you."

"Maybe. But I still say you should ask him to dance."

"Huh."

They made their way back to the ranch in the pitch black, saying goodnight on the landing before each heading to their rooms.

Jayne paused in the doorway, watching Mal opening his door and wondering if maybe he should say something. Do something. The man was … well, he felt his cock twitching just at the idea of having him under him, flesh sliding one on the other, making him moan his name.

"'Night," Mal called, smiling as he walked into his room.

"Cao ni zhu zhong shi bad ai," Jayne cursed quietly as he closed his door, wondering if he could get away with a quick hand session just to relieve the tension. Although knowing his luck he'd probably yell out Mal's name at the inappropriate time.

"No! Stop, please! I …"

The words were clearer tonight, and Mal was out of his bed in an instant, pulling on a pair of sleep pants and almost falling over in his haste. He padded quickly to his sister's room, opening the door. She was tossing again, her hands pushing away at something, at someone, at whoever was hurting her in her dream.

Without thinking he did as Jayne had, sliding under the sheet and pulling her against him. She fought him, kicking his shin with her heel, but he held on, and slowly she calmed.

"Mal?" It was Jayne in the doorway, looking surprised and somewhat anxious.

"She's my sister," Mal whispered.

"Yeah." Jayne smiled, just a little tilt to his lips, then crossed the room. He lifted the sheet and lay down, Ginny between them. "She kinda gets to you that way, doesn't she?"

"Always has," Mal agreed. Then he stopped. "Jayne, her back …" He could feel the welts and ridges against his chest, marring her skin in a weave of agony.

"Yeah. That's what they did. If'n I could've killed 'em all I would." He put his arm across his friend, his hand encountering Mal's shoulder.

Mal trembled, but didn't move away. "I get the feeling maybe one or two of 'em ain't in the land of the living no more."

Jayne didn't answer for a moment, then said, "Well, maybe the guy who used the whip got a taste of his own medicine."

Mal could almost hear the man screaming for mercy, but for once, with Ginny finally relaxing back against him, he couldn't feel pity. "Good," he said quietly. "Good."

Jayne woke him before the sun came up, whispering that he should leave, that Ginny would be mortified if she knew.

He nodded and climbed carefully from the bed. "Thanks," he murmured.

"No probs."

Mal wandered back to his own room, although his mind was elsewhere. His last view was of the big man holding his sister tenderly in his arms, but there was nothing sexual about it. It was more how a parent would comfort a child, protecting them from harm, and he realized that was something most people would never know about Jayne. They saw the size, the muscles, the guns that he carried, and think that was all there was. They didn't take the time to see below the surface, to get to know the man and not the image.

He lay down on his bed, staring into the darkness, his hand wandering across his belly.

Jayne was certainly an enigma, and Mal wondered just how much of who he was had been because of Ginny. Had she changed him, made him a better man? Mal knew nothing of his past, before the war, and knew he probably didn't want to. What was important was here, now.

He pushed at the waistband of his sleep pants, his fingers sliding down to grasp his semi-hard jiba. As he stroked himself to full erection, he allowed his mind to conjure a pair of startling blue eyes above him, a goatee beard, a smile that promised so much …

Nobody said anything about the night before, although Mal wasn't sure Ginny didn't know, at least from the look he caught her giving him. He smiled softly, sliding the omelette he'd cooked for her onto her plate.

"Thanks," she said, and he wondered if it was for the food or something else.

Jayne kept quiet, munching on his bread like he was starving, but keeping his eyes on Mal the whole time.

Being Sunday, most of the hands had gone off to church, although it was probably more the thought of spending some of their wages in the local saloon after that had them spruced up.

Mal didn't go. He used to be a churchgoer, at least when his Ma was still alive, and he could still remember her pressing down the cowlick at the top of his head, and tutting when the hair stood straight back up again. He'd be in his best clothes, Ginny looking demure in a sprigged muslin dress, white gloves and prayer book, his mother checking them over critically before they climbed into the buckboard to head off to save their souls.

Nowadays he tended to think that it wasn't necessary for a man to go down on his knees once a week, that if he tried to live a good life then that was enough, and any God would understand that, and appreciate it.

Besides, chores still needed doing, even if he did have two extra people to help out. By mid-afternoon though, after a lunch of soup and fresh bread, everything was finished. The eggs had been collected, the windows washed and polished, the veranda swept and the laundry hung up to dry.

He was in the barn, making sure they had enough feed for another couple of weeks, when the sunlight was cut off somewhat.

He turned. "Oh. Hey, Jayne."

Jayne stepped inside into the shadows. "Mal."

"You done?"

"Yeah. Got anything else you want help with?"

Mal dusted his hands off. "No. No, I don't think so. We can take a break now, if you like. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't a pot of coffee on the stove, ready for us."

"Not coffee I want." Jayne had been thinking all day, his mind only half on the tasks in hand, the rest remembering Mal in the bed next to him. Okay, Ginny had been between them, but there had been a time during the night when their hands had tangled up together, fingers gripping, and he knew he wanted more.

"There's still some whisky, I guess, although I don't usually get it out on a –" The words died in his mouth as Jayne stepped forward, crowding him against the wall. "What are you doing?"

"This." He leaned on the wood and bent down the few inches that separated them, pressing his lips to Mal's.

Mal didn't move. His eyes had widened, but for some reason he didn't push the big man away.

Jayne let go and leaned back. "I … uh …" He took a step away. "Sorry. I thought …"

"Jayne …"

"I'll go." He turned, but found Mal's hand on his arm, stopping him.

"No." Suddenly their mouths found each other again, this time with more passion, bruising in their intensity as they plundered. Tongues met and clashed, fighting for supremacy as they kissed.

Mal slipped his arms around Jayne's body, holding him tightly, even as his hands was rough against Mal's neck, pulling him closer, his fingers buried in the short brown hair.

"Not here," Mal whispered, his breath coming quickly, feeling the other man's thigh pressing between his own.

"Can't wait," Jayne said with a grunt, pressing harder.

Mal sucked a breath in, then found Jayne's lips crushed down on his again, tongue demanding entrance. He gave up the last of any resistance and kissed him hard, mouth opening, pulling the bigger man into him.

Jayne's hands left his neck, busy with Mal's shirt, flipping the buttons open until he came to his pants. He paused.

"Jayne," Mal moaned. "Don't ... don't stop."

Jayne grinned, his cobalt eyes glowing. "You sure?"

For answer Mal pressed himself more fully against the other so they could both feel their erections clearly outlined beneath their clothes.

Jayne growled, and slid his hand further between them, pressing on the hard flesh he found there.

Mal moaned again, throwing his head back.

Running his lips down his lover's neck, Jayne nipped at the soft skin at the base of his throat even as his hand was busy unbuttoning Mal's fly and slipping his hand inside.

"God, Jayne ..."

"Ain't never been called that before," Jayne joked, wrapping his fingers around Mal's cock, easing it out into the air so he could get better access. He stepped back, looking down. "Damn."

Mal leaned back on the wall, panting hard, knowing he was more exposed than he'd ever been in his life. "Like what you see?"

Jayne's eyes raked up and down his body, from the flush across his face and down his chest, to his cock standing proud at the top of his spread thighs, pulsing slightly from the blood surging within. "Like?" He grinned. "Ain't the word I'd use." He dropped to his knees, wetting his lips. "Gorram."

Mal swallowed in anticipation, barely able to watch as Jayne moved forward, enveloping his aching flesh with his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head as he felt a talented tongue slip around the head, press into the indentation at the tip, then pressure pulling him further into Jayne's throat.

Time stood still. The only sound was Jayne's sucking, and the frantic panting as Mal got closer and closer to the edge. Then, his eyes screwed shut, his fingers wrapped in Jayne's hair, he saw the world go white, and his climax burst through him. Over and over he felt his seed pump from him, to be greedily swallowed down by the man at his groin, until reality came back and he slumped against the barn wall, spent and boneless.

Jayne gave his cock a final lick then tenderly tucked it back inside his pants. He stood up, the feral look that had graced his features before gone, replaced by tenderness. "You okay?" he asked.

Mal gathered himself and stood straighter. "I ... uh ..."

Jayne chuckled. "First time I've rendered someone speechless."

"That I doubt." Mal closed his eyes briefly, then looked at him again. "Why ... why did you do that?"

The shutters came down over Jayne's face again. "I wanted to."

Mal felt like a heel. "I didn't mean ..."

"Your sis thought you wanted it too. I guess maybe she was wrong." He turned to leave, but Mal's hand on his arm stopped him once more.

"I did want it. I do." He sounded like he was stuttering. "Jayne, I ..." He glanced down at the tenting of the other man's pants, very visible. "You're still ..."

Jayne laughed. "It'll keep."

"What if I don't want it to?" Despite the recent orgasm, Mal's voice was becoming huskier again.

Suddenly Jayne was pressed against him, and he could smell the other man in his nostrils, all sweat, black powder, and the scent of his own sperm on the big man's breath. "Do yah?"

"Yes." Mal shifted his hips, making Jayne grunt with surprise.

"But not here, huh?"

"Here. Bed. Wherever."

The darkness thinned over Jayne's face, and the smile warmed them both.

"Then I reckon we'll take this inside." As Mal's eyes widened, he added, "I'm thinking of the bedroom."

"Oh. Right."

"Less you were offering."

"And if I was?"

The sexual tension, broken by Jayne's previous actions, rachetted again.

"Might have to take you up on it."

"Good." Mal smiled and finished buttoning his pants. Tucking his shirt inside he led the way out into the sunshine and back towards the house.

Ginny, leaning on the corral fencepost, watched her brother and her best friend as they walked side by side. She'd heard enough to know what was going on, and backed up when she caught a glimpse of Jayne down on his knees. She didn't need to know the particulars, but couldn't help smiling. Mal deserved someone to want him for him, and Jayne was a good man deep down. They could be good together.

She chuckled, then stood straighter, stretching her back. The chuckle turned to a moan as the damaged skin pulled, and she buckled against the corral. "Dammit," she muttered, fighting to keep the pain to a manageable level.

Jayne slicked Mal's ass up with lube, pressing in to the depth of his second knuckle. Mal, on his knees on the bed, groaned again, pushing back, rotating his hips slightly to feel more.

"You like that?" Jayne asked, his voice deep, anticipating.

"Always did." Mal could feel his cock hard and thick, bouncing against his belly even though he was almost face down in the pillow. "It's just ... been a long time."

"Then I ain't gonna keep you waiting." Rubbing his lube-slipped hand over and around his own penis, he could feel moisture at the tip, and as his fingers tightened down to the base he positioned himself between Mal's butt cheeks. "You tell me if I'm going too fast. If it's been that long, I ain't wanting to be hurtin' you."

"I ... wuh duh muh … I will."

Jayne paused for a moment, then pulled his finger back, immediately pushing the head of his penis inside.

Mal gasped, feeling the intrusion that only kept growing, his body acclimatizing quickly, but not enough that he didn't feel the burning as he was stretched open.

"You okay?" Jayne ground out, holding himself back from plunging deeper with difficulty.

"Shiny," Mal managed to say, glad the other man couldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"You sure?"

"I'm … sure." To show he meant what he said, Mal leaned back a little, feeling Jayne slip deeper.

"I can't … can't hold back."

"Don't." The pain was turning to pleasure, and he wanted more.

Jayne grinned, and pushed home, his belly coming to rest on Mal's buttocks.

Mal almost screamed, then started to move.

"Mal …" Jayne pulled back, scraping nerve endings as he did so, then plunged deep, again and again, his sweat soaked skin slapping on Mal's back, feeling muscles clenching around him that turned his world into just those few inches, the sounds only two men enjoying each other.

Finally he could feel his body start to tense, and he knew he was close, very close. He thrust one last time, as deep into his lover's body as he could go, then reached round and grasped Mal's cock. He pulled once, twice, then both men were coming, semen spurting inside one and from the other, fighting for breath as they at last came down from their climaxes. Mal's legs collapsed and he fell forwards, Jayne still buried in him on top.

As he felt his cock softening, Jayne rolled carefully off, sliding out of Mal's ass. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. "Mal, it ain't 'cause your sis told me to," he said quietly. "I wanted to. More'n anything."

Mal turned his head so he could look at the man who'd given him two of the best orgasms in his life in the space of less than an hour. He smiled. "Glad of that."

"And I wanna do it again. Keep doing it." Jayne rolled onto his side. "You know? With you?"

Mal managed to do the same so they were facing each other, the pleasant ache in his backside warring with the sticky feeling all over his belly and sliding out between his buttocks. "I ain't a toy, Jayne," he said gently.

"I know that. You're a man, and a damn good looking one at that. Even if you weren't Ginny's brother I'd prob'ly'a made a play for yah, but knowing how she thinks on you, how she cares about you ..."

"Do you care?" Mal asked, careful not to wish for too much.

Jayne lifted a hand and ran his fingers delicately across Mal's brow, down his cheek to his lips. "I care," he admitted, as if the words were wrung from deep within him. "I seen you and her, the way you held her last night, not questioning, just being there for her 'til the nightmares went away. I been doing that for a long time, and she's the closest I'm ever gonna get to a sister myself. So I figure any bro that can do that for her too must be a good man. My kinda man."

Mal chuckled lightly. "Hope you're not looking on me as a brother, 'cause I conjure what we just did was illegal on most planets between blood kin."

In answer Jayne pulled Mal towards him, rolling him until they were spooned together, his chest against Mal's back. "You ain't my bro," he whispered. "You're more'n that. Could be a lot more."

Mal relaxed, feeling Jayne's arms surrounding him, Jayne's hips cupping his own, Jayne's breath in his ear, and he relaxed. "Hope so," he murmured, his eyes wanting to close.

"Hey, hadn't we better get cleaned up first?" Jayne asked, knowing his lover was slipping into sleep.

"Later," Mal mumbled. "I gotta change the sheets again later anyway." He snuggled back.

"'Kay." Jayne grinned as he felt the man in his arms drift away, but he knew he was going to keep the dreams at bay as long as possible for himself. He wasn't going to waste a minute of this if he could help it. It felt so right, like they fit together, made for each other, and as Mal snuffled lightly, he held him as closely as he could. Might only be for a few days, maybe a month or two, but he was going to spend as much time with him as possible.

He laughed, quickly stifled so as not to wake the sleeping man. Gorramit, but Ginny was right again. And she wasn't above saying she told him so.

Ginny Reynolds was sitting at the big oak table drinking coffee when they both surfaced the next morning. The flush on Mal's cheeks told her everything she wanted to know, that they'd taken advantage of the so-called 'morning wood' and were sated, at least for the moment.

She smiled, lifting her mug to them both. "Hi."

Jayne was immediately at her side, down on his heels so he could see into her eyes. "You okay?" he asked. "Only I slept through, and I –"

She put a finger on his lips. "Me too." She grinned. "Been a long while. Must've been those noises coming from Mal's room. Like a lullaby."

Mal flushed, remembering waking and finding Jayne asleep on his back next to him, his cock soft and curled in the hair at his groin. It was dark, but the moonlight coming through the window clearly outlined the muscles in his chest, the powerful thighs, and Mal couldn't resist. He'd leaned down and taken the other man's penis into his mouth, sucking gently, feeling it grow and harden.

He didn't know the exact point that Jayne woke up, but felt hands in his hair, and he lowered his mouth as far down as he could manage, keeping up a regular suction on the flesh that he was coming to adore.

Jayne moaned loudly, thrusting his hips up so his cock pushed at the back of Mal's throat. He unwrapped his hands from Mal's hair and instead pulled at his hips, turning him so that they lay head to groin.

Mal let Jayne's cock slip wetly from his mouth so he could look at the other man, see the lasciviousness reflected back at him, then groaned himself as he watched Jayne take his own erect penis into his mouth.

They sucked each other, tongues frantic as each felt the other working them, harder than they'd ever been before, thrusting and licking and moaning around hot flesh, until Mal felt his orgasm start to build in the back of his thighs, spreading through his buttocks where Jayne's fingertips were leaving bruises. He mumbled, his mouth full, "Jayne. I'm gonna come."

"Yeah," the other man managed to say, sucking harder and slipping a fingertip into Mal's ass.

That was enough. Mal yelled Jayne's name and let loose with a flood of semen, his thigh muscles tight with climax.

Jayne sucked the seed down, even as he felt his own climax shatter him, and he shouted, "MAL!" and shot his own load over his lover's face.

As the mutual orgasms ended, it took all of Mal's strength to climb back up Jayne's body so they could lie face to face. Jayne, the euphoria still flooding his system, smiled at the white splashes ghosting his lover's face, and gently wiped as much off as possible, cleaning his hand on the already stained sheet. He pulled Mal into him, rolling onto his back so he was nestled into the crook of his shoulder, like he was made to fit.

Now, the mere memory of that, and the mutual session they'd just shared, made Mal's face burn.

"There's breakfast in the oven," Ginny said, apparently staring into space. "Men need a good breakfast after a busy night. Or so I'm told."

Jayne, as unphased by her teasing as if she'd just been discussing the weather, grinned widely and stood up. "Surely do need some protein," he said, snagging the oven cloth from the side and opening the door. "Hey, bacon."

"And there's fresh sheets in the cupboard," Ginny added. "Only I ain't changing yours. There are a few things I tend to draw the line at."

If Mal's face could have got any redder, it would have. "Um, yeah. Thanks." He grabbed a handful of cutlery from the jar.

Jayne chuckled, lifting two plates of food from the oven and placing them on the table. "So you slept okay?"

She nodded, her blue eyes gentle. "First time, all the way through." She sighed happily. "Must've been being at home, in my old bed."

"Must've." Jayne sat down next to Mal, close enough their thighs touched.

"So, what're you boys up to today?"

"Don't know," Jayne admitted. "Apart from laundry duty." He picked up a knife and fork, his fingers 'accidentally' touching Mal's.

Mal jerked his hand away.

Jayne looked at him, hurt in his eyes, then at Ginny. She shook her head slightly.

"I've got to get the herd down from the top pasture," Mal said, moving the food on his plate around. "The boys are already up there, but I want to make sure they're all accounted for."

"Can I come?" Jayne asked.

"Sure. If you want." Mal suddenly got to his feet. "I need to ... I'll be back in a few." He strode out without a backward glance.

"Ginny?" Jayne looked at his old commanding officer. "Did I do something?"

"No, Jayne." She sighed. "But I know this Mal of old. Something he really wants, he doesn't think he should have. Afraid that if he gets it he'll lose it, and he knows how much that hurts."

"So what do I do, Ginny?"

She turned enough so she could look at him square in the face. "How do you feel about him, Jayne?" she asked.

He considered lying, that maybe Mal's attitude was the right one, because if a man didn't get close he didn't get hurt. But he didn't get a lot of others things, too. "I could love him, Ginny," Jayne admitted, his voice small.

She seemed to relax. "Good," she said, and smiled. Grabbing two slices of fresh cut bread she held them out. "Here. Make a stack for him. I reckon he's out by the corral. That's the usual spot we Reynolds go when there's thinking to be done."

Jayne did as he was told, forking bacon and a couple of fried eggs onto the bread, making an impromptu sandwich. He stood up. "Ginny, you're too fine a woman to waste."

Her eyes clouded. "Yeah, well, that's kinda a moot point, don't you think?"

"No. No, I don't." He leaned forward. "Hell, if I'm gonna be making a fool of myself, don't think I'm gonna be the only one."

"Here." Jayne held out the bread. "You gotta eat something, and I ain't above making you."

Mal turned from where he was leaning on the fence, staring at the Wraith Mountains in the distance. "I'm not hungry."

"Sure you are. You didn't eat last night either." He waved the sandwich, letting the aroma twist in the air.

Mal's stomach rumbled traitorously. "I'm not –"

"Gorramit, Mal, just eat it, afore I stuff it down your throat."

Mal bridled for a moment, his hands making fists, then registered the gentle look in the bigger man's eyes. "Fine," he said, grabbing the bread and taking a huge bite. Damn, but it did taste good.

"Can I have some?" Jayne asked, watching as melted butter ran down Mal's chin. "I ... uh ... kinda left mine back on the kitchen table."

Mal paused, then held out the sandwich. "Sure," he mumbled.

Jayne took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. "So who was she, Mal?"

"What?"

"The woman as made you like this."

"Made me like what?" Mal was on the defensive.

"'Cause I don't reckon it was a man. Not then. I think there was a woman that you wanted, probably made a play for, thought you'd got, then she up and left you. And to not feel that way again you let yourself give in to the other urges you felt sometimes, thinking a man wasn't gonna hurt you like that."

Mal's jaw dropped open. "How ... did Ginny tell you?"

"She said something, but ... I'm a pretty good judge o'character. S'one of the few things I'm good at. That and killing folks."

Mal turned away, the sandwich forgotten in his hands. "She ... her name was Laura. I loved her."

"Did she run off with someone else?"

"No. She ... it was worse than that."

Ah. Jayne understood. "She died."

"Yeah. Fever took her in less than a week."

"And you thought it would have been better if she had run off with another feller, 'cause at least then you could've blamed her for it."

Mal turned on him, his blue eyes blazing. "I could never blame her!"

"So you blamed yourself instead." Jayne had to chuckle. "You and your sis are sure a pair."

"My ... Ginny?"

"Mal, she ain't been with a man for years. I should know. I was prob'ly the last she went with."

"You were?"

"Mal, I know Ginny's told you I kinda swing both ways. But I lean towards menfolk. 'Cept, that night, she needed me."

Mal moved away, but only to sit on a log placed by the corral fence for just such a purpose. "Who was he?"

"Our doc. I mean, he really was a doc, all prettied up and fancy, with a diploma and everything. Damn good, too, saved my life more'n once."

"Did he love her?"

Jayne sat down next to him. "Yeah. He did. You think we made a lot of noise last night? Hell, there were times even the enemy complained."

Mal had to smile. "Really?"

"Really." Jayne shook his head. "He was a good guy. I think, if he'd made it out the other side, they'd've been together still. Prob'ly forever."

"What happened?"

"What happens in war. He was tending to wounded, doing what he did best, and a shell hit the hospital tent. Ginny was first on the scene."

"God, no," Mal whispered.

"Yeah. I was right behind, saw what was left." He scratched his beard. "Weren't much. Just enough to know who it had been." He turned to look into Mal's face. "You seen that ring she wears around her neck?"

"The gold one?" He'd felt it the night before, hanging on a chain.

"Yeah. She took it off his hand." He could still see her, crouching over the remains – because that's all they were – tears streaming down her cheeks, lifting the hand that came away from the rest of the arm into her lap ... "Bad times."

"But ... it's a wedding ring."

"Yeah."

"You mean to say ..."

"I mean to say." Jayne sighed heavily. "She buried hers with him."

Mal shot to his feet. "Oh, Ginny ..."

Jayne was up in an instant, holding Mal's arm. "Now, don't you go saying anything. It damn near broke her, pushed into things I thought she was never gonna come back from. And when they captured her, did what they did to her, I think she was hoping she wasn't gonna pull through it."

"Ginny ..." Mal could feel tears prickling his eyes.

"She's okay," Jayne assured him. "She'll hate me for telling you, but I figure you need to know. Understand she understands how you feel." He turned the other man so they were face to face. "I ain't leaving, Mal. Not 'til you tell me to go, and even then I'll prob'ly just camp out in the woods somewhere. I ain't gonna leave you."

Mal gazed into Jayne's eyes, seeing the truth of his words, and something unknotted inside him. "Thanks." He managed a shaky smile and held up the sandwich. "Do you ... want another bite?"

"Sure," Jayne said, relaxing. "But I'll take the sandwich for now."

A laugh was forced from Mal's throat. "Okay." He handed it over, watching the other man wolf half of it down. "Did you really ... with Ginny?"

"Yeah." Jayne sat down again, inordinately pleased when Mal followed him, touching hip to hip. "That night. I think she was trying to fuck the images outta her brain, him lying there like so much meat, but it didn't work. She ain't slept with a man – or woman – since."

"She sleeps with you."

"No. She has those gorram nightmares, and I hold her, but there ain't nothing else."

"Would you like there to be?"

Jayne sighed again. "Mal, your sis is the best woman I've ever met, bar none. And if she showed the slightest interest in getting inside my pants, then yeah, I prob'ly woulda." He took Mal's hand. "But not now. You get it?"

"I get it."

"Then stop torturing yourself. I'm a lot better at that than you are, and if you ask nicely I can get out the handcuffs and the chains."

"Chains?"

Jayne laughed. "Okay. Maybe I'll improvise."

Mal looked down at their entwined hands, feeling the calluses from years of handing a gun against his own, differently placed ones. "I'm ... kinda new at this," he admitted. "I don't know ... I'm probably gonna hurt your feelings. More than once."

"I know. And I'm prob'ly gonna do the same. But maybe we can have something better. Better than we've ever had it."

"Yeah. Better."

Jayne leaned forward and captured Mal's lips in a tender kiss, nothing like the passion they'd shared earlier, but even then it had more depth of feeling than anything they'd shared yet.

"You know Ginny's gonna be crowing over this, don't you?" Mal whispered, his words slipping into Jayne's mouth, even as his hands came up to hold his head.

"Sure. But I think we'll let her. Just this once."

"Just this once," Mal agreed.