AN: If I hadn't said it already, I don't own Firefly and Joss Whedon is a god. Thanks for the reviews, this fic is actually turning into quite a fun project for me.

"Ladies," Jayne smiled, enjoying the privacy of his bunk that he'd missed so much. "Stephanie, Lisa," he blew kisses to the two scanty women on his wall. "Man, I missed this place," Jayne fell backwards onto his bunk. He really had missed it. It's hard to have a place to call home when you're always on a ship traveling places. But if there were one place he would call home – aside from his home with his Ma, it was here in this room. It smelled like home, it felt like home, and it even sounded more like home. His bunk was nested adjacent to the engine room and the soft hum of the turning turbines had become something of a calming device for him. The doc's room had been much too quiet. He was glad to be home. He didn't waste time in unbuttoning his pants.

Simon was glad to be able to return his things to his own room now. He hadn't set much of a foot inside there, afraid he might find that the oaf had made it somehow into something more like his own. He was relieved to find that the only remnant left of the towering man was the smell. Simon made a mental note of how he would have to change the sheets before day's end. He looked forward to sleeping in his own sheets tonight, free of the accosting reek of one Jayne Cobb. Simon lazily set his shaving kit on his bedside table and would have never noticed the piece of paper fluttering onto the ground had his senses not been incredibly heightened after his recent surprise beating. He bent down to pick it up. Not recognizing it at all, he opened it and, scanning it quickly, realized it was a letter to Jayne from his ma. Afraid that at any moment Jayne might sneak up behind him, poised with a large blunt object with which to maim him for reading the letter, Simon carefully folded the paper back up and turned to return it to the frightening man as quickly as possible.

Jayne had just finished… his bunkly business when he heard a light rapping at his hatch. Buttoning his pants quickly and tossing a tissues into the trash can, he shouted up at the intruder. "What do ya' want?"

"It's Simon, I found something in my room, I think it's yours," Simons voice was shaking, terrified of what Jayne might do if he thought he'd read it.

Jayne stood and beat the hatch release, looking up the ladder at the clean doctor. He could see in Simon's hand the small piece of paper that he'd taken to reading every night for the past month. "Hand it down then."

Simon's eyes surrendered his shock. "Yeah, sure, here it is." He'd gotten off easy, and he thanked his lucky stars he was still walking.

"You didn't read it, did ya?" Jayne's eyes narrowed at the surprised looking doctor.

Simon played cool. "Yes, Jayne, because I have nothing better to do with my time than to read random notes left lying around the ship," he growled back at the man and, in a brave turn of events turned promptly and walked away. His legs were still shaking though when he heard the large man begin to ascend up the ladder.

"Hey Doc!" Jayne shouted after him, sounding a bit more vicious than he'd intended. He was Jayne Cobb, though, and it's not like he had to try to sound menacing, it was a gift, really, and he bore it remarkably well. He watched the doctor turn defiantly. "Tell the cap that I'm having breakfast in my bunk – doctor's orders," he challenged the doctor.

"Yes, fine, whatever Mr. Cobb, is there anything else I can do for you?" his sarcastic tone hid the tremor in his voice. He hoped that Jayne would say no, but to be honest, he actually genuinely cared to help. The man had saved his life, afterall.

"As a matter of fact," Jayne began to approach the doctor quickly. "You can take your psychotic brain of a sister and get the hell off this ship," Jayne was now eye to eye with the doctor – waiting for a reaction. Waiting for the fear that he worked so hard to rise out of even the best.

"I suggest you watch what you say from now on before I come up with a good reason to tell the Captain that a full body paralyzer was necessary to help you heal up the rest of the way. Remember, Jayne, I may be a scrawny little piss ant, as you'd call me, but I'm a scrawny piss ant that with one injection can convince you that you're a pretty nancy girl who likes to play with bunnies. So ask yourself, is this really an altercation that you want to get involved in? Or are you just going to turn back around and crawl into that filth of a hole you call your home?" Once again, Simon felt as though his heart had stopped. It didn't matter how many times he confronted Jayne with threats of his undoing, it terrified him every time.

Jayne's nostrils flared. He couldn't stand this weasel. This impish creep with his stupid medicine – not to mention the all-knowing sister of his. Jayne's eyes narrowed as he stared down his nose at the well-dressed (insert word here that's mean). "Watch where ya step, little man," Jayne turned on his heel and marched back to his bunk, angry that he couldn't get a rise out of the cretin. Flexing his renewed strength, he took a moment to slam a closed fist into the wall before climbing down the ladder. He was sure it hurt, but he couldn't feel it through his anger. He wished the damned pest would just die.

oooOOOooo

Simon would never admit to having any sort of concern for the rough man called Jayne. Factually though, he was very concerned about the progress of the wound. If it got infected, Simon feared the worst. The pain that would go along with repairing the kind of damage that infection that deep would be hard even for the toughest of men to bear. He was quite certain, too, that if it came to it, and he needed to use the paralyzer again, he wouldn't live through the week. So that's what led him to where he was now. Midday, having not seen Jayne at all since their last encounter, Simon stalked the halls of Serenity looking for his patient.

Jayne, in fact, was doing nothing of the sort of hiding. He wasn't even avoiding the doctor, he'd honestly forgotten, much too consumed with the task at hand of writing to his ma. It was true, learning had never stuck with Jayne, especially when it came to letters. He got his a's and he e's mixed up all the time, and usually got the rest of them jumbled up and backwards. His spelling was nothing fancy either. Hard to focus on spelling the word right when you're not even sure you've got the letters right. He scratched his head impatiently as he sat in the cargo bay behind a few boxes, the only place he could find enough quiet to concentrate. He'd only gotten a few lines in and already he was stumped. Add to his problems, he just didn't know what to write. He'd written his ma one time telling her about how he'd gotten stabbed on a job, and the responding letter was nothing shy of a full blown lecture on how he ought to come home where it's safe. He thought it best not to include things like that, but didn't know what to talk about otherwise. Not like he'd met any girls recently, and Inara wouldn't give him half a ride if he could pay for it. He hadn't sent her money any time recently because the past few jobs they'd had weren't profitable enough for him to have left-overs to send her way. Jayne scratched his head again.

"Jayne! There you are, I've been looking all over, what in the world are you doing hiding behind boxes?" Simon's voice cut into the concentrating air. He tapped an impatient foot and glared at the figure appearing hidden behind some cargo.

Jayne looked up startled. "I ain't hidin' ya lump! I'm writin' if it's all the same to you. Now you wanna 'splain why ya feel ya ain't gonna get hurt for comin' here screamin' at me like I owe ya somethin'?" Something about this doctor just got under his skin.

Simon checked himself. Writing? That certainly wasn't the answer he was expecting. He hadn't even realized Jayne could write. He found himself mildly impressed that the man had even taken the time to learn something so… well, not entirely useful in the mercenary business. "I need to check your bandages remember? I'd asked you to stop by the infirmary so I could clean up your shoulder."

Jayne looked at his watch, realizing it was well into late afternoon and that he distantly did remember being told about cleaning the bullet hole. Jayne stared one more time at the mostly blank piece of paper, folded it up and stuffed it into his shirt pocket along with the pen he was writing with. "I ain't no kid, Doc. When I'm ready to be checked on, I'll come askin'. But since I gots nothin' better ta do right now, may as well check me over."

Together the two walked in silence to the infirmary where Jayne remained surprisingly calm through the entire inspection stopping to talk only once when Simon had picked a particularly delicate spot to pay attention to. After a short scolding, Simon went back to business, had the wound cleaned up in a jiffy and sent Jayne back on his way.

AN: Review my fic. All your friends are doing it. Only cool people give into peer pressure.