Disclaimer: See chapter one.
A/N: One more chapter to go.
Brompton Cocktail
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It was a simple service; Harl, Jayne's little sister's husband, proved to be a good hand with carpentry, though he seemed a touch angry, muttering all the while about how Jayne couldn't have waited 'one more gorram day'. Kelly was devastated, and her melancholia made her children – ranging in age from Mattie, at a year and a half, up to a set of seven year old twins – unruly. Radiant seemed to take it all in stride, however, accepting with good grace and polite refusals that she didn't really mean the help the crew of Serenity offered. A small bit of drama consisted of when Kelly called the local Shepherd, only to be succinctly turned down. It sent her into a crying fit that only Radiant could deal with. "What did you expect, sweetie?" she muttered into her daughter's hair. "You know he never approved of me sending Jaynie out like I did."
The only other thing that didn't go quite as they had planned was when Kaylee offered to help pay for the grave marker. "Be nice ta get the same hands as did these," she gestured to the stones for Kaida and Jayne's children. It had come as something of a surprise to those who hadn't already known when most of the stories told after the funeral centered on Jayne's family.
Harl looked up at Kaylee, finishing pounding a simple metal spike into place – the spike would do until a stone marker could be purchased. "Ain't disagreein' none, Miss Kaylee," Harl said. "But that'd be a mite on the dif'cult side, bein's the hands what carved them stones is the very same what just got laid ta rest. Was afore my time, but Radiant said Jayne done 'em 'cause he didn't trust no one else ta get it right." Kaylee only had one reaction to that – her eyes overflowed and she raced back to the house, throwing herself into Simon's arms.
Even while dealing with everything else, Radiant managed to contact some of her friends, and they came and switched out Serenity's fuel cells with fresh ones, fully charged. When Mal tried to pay her for them, she simply shook her head. "You brought him back ta me, Malcolm, an' not in a box. He weren't in good shape, I grant, but he was walkin' on his own power. It was more 'an I ever expected ta have, once he left." Mal simply waited until she wasn't in the room, then stuffed the cash he would have had to pay for the fuel at a station into a plastic container in a kitchen cupboard. She'll find it eventually.
Despite repeated invitations to stick around for 'a few days', Serenity lifted off the day after she was refueled. A subdued group sat around the galley table, their autopilot taking care of the necessary driving for the time-being. They planned to drop by the Skyplex – an easy three-day jaunt. Zoë looked around the group, knowing a similar expression was cemented to her own face, then remembered something. Without a word, she bolted for her room, grabbed the box Jayne had given her, then rushed back.
"Whacha got there?" Kaylee asked, all traces of her usual enthusiasm gone.
"Jayne gave this to me. Thought we should take a look," she replied, opening the flaps.
Inside the box were six envelopes, the knife Jayne had handed to her back on Three Hills, and five lumpy packages wrapped in brown paper. Zoë pulled out the envelope that had her name printed on it in Jayne's cramped printing. "What's it say, Zoë?" Oriole asked.
Zoë cleared her throat and read it aloud.
Zoë,
Can't think there's much left ta be said tween us. Said it all an then some. But there's one part o'my story what I ain't tol ya.
Recall me sayin the one hundan got his in the war? I was workin for Blue Sun at the time, transport security, like I done for Mal all this time, only legit-like. Had me a uniform an evrything. It was one o'them things what I tried doin afore merc sorta settled on me like mornin fog. Anyways, I wish I could say we was makin a delivry ta the Liance, but I ain't gonna start fibbin this late in the game. My partner an me was guardin the cargo, waitin on pickup. The guy was runnin late. After near on a hour o'waitin, Steve had ta find hisself a shrub. So he ducked over this low hill an just as he git outta site, the guy we was waitin on shows up. I reknized him rite off – he was the sumbitch what kilt my baby brother Jax. He signed for the supplies, then reached up ta trigger his com an m'instincts jus kicked in. Cut his throat from ear ta ear. Only barely managed ta git him stashed in one o'the crates when Steve come back. I tol him the guy showed an signed while he was off drainin the lizard so we could go. I quit Blue Sun jus as soon as we got back ta the Skyplex.
I wancha ta have m'knife. It was the first weapon I got what weren't meant for huntin deers an antilops an such. Its the very same one what landed me in the hospital the day m'family was kilt, an save for the hundan I shot that day – an that lucky sumbitch what died in the transport – its played a roll in takin down each o'the othern, an save for how we met, its always been lucky for me.
Take care o'yerself,
Jayne Cobb
"What was that story about, Zoë?" Kaylee asked.
Zoë took the knife out of the box and sat down; in truth, her knees couldn't have supported her much longer. It took her a solid hour to tell what she could remember of the story Jayne had told her. Once it was told, everyone sat in silence for several minutes, trying to digest it. Zoë halted the depressive thoughts and pushed the box to Mal. "Looks like we each have something, sir."
Mal stood and peered into the contents. "So we do," he said. He grabbed a tiny package with his name on it and the corresponding envelope. He opened the package first and found a small purple bag. In it was a diamond ring that he'd last seen in a photograph in Radiant's living room, gracing the finger of the then-Kaida Tanaka. He frowned at it, and opened his letter, following Zoë's example in reading it out loud.
Mal,
I know you an me ain't never really seen eye ta eye on any manner o'subjects, an I'm pretty sure ya ain't gonna morn overmuch bout my passin, but I wanna get a few things straight.
I dunno if ya recall it none, but ya once asked me why I din't turn on ya back when that fed tried an buy me off when the doc an his sis first got on the boat. I tol ya the money weren't good nuff. We agreed twould be an innerstin day when the money was good nuff. What you was thinkin was prolly on the backstabbin an the possible harm to ya own hide. What I was meanin were that there weren't nuff money in the verse ta git me ta backstab ya. Yer the best gorram captin I ever served unner. When I did what I done on Ariel, I din't see it as backstabbin you. I was gittin a possible murderous lunatic off the ship, one I was sure was gonna bring the whole Liance down on us. Din't help overmuch she stabbed me none, neither. The money I got offered was jus a bonus. I was gonna send it ta Ma. But then I saw what them hundans did ta that girl, hackin on her brain an all, an if I hadn't already called em at that point, I woulda jus stuck with the plan. But I'd called when the doc an his sis was still out an I knowed they wasn't gonna be to happy if we jus disappeared. You an Wash an Kaylee an Zoë an Book an Inara din't need a passel o'angry lawmen ridin yer pigus, not for sommat I did. So I let em take us. I admit I was hopin they mite gimme the money rite there, an we'd have it for a bonus when I got us away, but it din't pan out that way. Found out why you hate the Liance so much – gorram buncha motherless bastards, the lot of em. If I ain't knowed it already, once the screamin started up behind us, I really knowed it then that what I done was wrong. Its why I din't try that hard when ya had me in the airlock. Had anythin happened ta either one of em after the screamin started, I prolly woulda et m'own gun. Jus wanted ya ta know that.
Now, yer prolly wondrin why I give ya the ring an thinkin all manner o'crazy noshuns. Ain't what's no dout crossin yer mind. I give that ring ta my Kaida when I was 18. If I could manage ta tell the one woman I ever loved that she means more ta me than anythin else in the whole gorram verse all combined when I was jus a fumblin stupid kid, surely ya can manage ta somehow tell Inara the same damn thing. Life don't last forever, ya know.
On that same track, there's a list o'things ya wanna keep in mind when dealin with womenfolk what yer all seriouslike with. Don't roll yer eyes at me, Mal. Kaida an me was happy. Mainly cause I followed the direkshuns.
1. Quit callin her a whore. Ain't respectable. Don't matter she is one, ya don't call her that. Ever.
2. If she gits mad at ya, pologize. Even if it ain't yer fault. Make that specially if it ain't yer fault. Womenfolk set great store by pologizin. Flowers is always good, but prettys what won't die are better, specially if theys cost a lotta coin. Don't skimp – she'll know. Dunno how they do that, but she'll know if ya skimp.
3. Whatever else ya mite fergit, don't fergit her birthday nor the anaversarry. The couch ain't that comfy. See suggestin 2.
4. Let her know evry damn day how much she means ta ya. Ya never know what part o'the enjin's gonna blow up or fall off next an ya don't want no regrets.
5. Give er flowers an doodads for more an jus special day or pologys. I know Inara's favrit flowers are dasies – don't ask how, I ain't too sure ya really wanna know. O, an I ain't met a woman yet what din't like havin her hair brushed for her.
If ya don't take me seriouslike on this, I'm gonna crawl my way outta hell an haunt yer dumb pigu til the end o'time, best captin or no.
Jayne Cobb
"That's some good advice there, sir," Zoë said.
"Jayne Cobb – closet romantic," Mal replied, letting out a wet laugh. "Who'da thunk it?"
Genuine laughter, flavored with tears as the captain's had been, met the quip. "You gonna follow his advice, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked.
Mal shrugged, "I don't rightly know yet, Kaylee. Hafta think on it some." He looked into the box. "And you're next."
"Come on, gimme," Kaylee bounced in her seat, reaching for the box as Mal slid it across the table. Her package flopped. She knew what it was even before she opened it. Sure enough, the orange-and-yellow hat his mother had sent him all those months before was revealed when the last of the paper fell away. She tugged on over her hair and opened her letter.
Kaylee,
Try not ta cry overmuch for me, meimei. I been dead a long time already, its only now m'body's gettin the message. Ya need ta ask Zoë ta tell ya bout the day I died. Ain't a happy story, tho I think ya mite like it.
I can't thank ya nuff for bein there for me, treatin me like people rite from the first an not jus the dumb merc. Ya made me member what its like ta be human agin, an ya kep me human all this time.
Stop cryin already. A smile like yourn aht never go dimlike. Dong ma?
Tho I dunno whys ya like him so much, try an be pashent with Simon. The boy means well, an he trys. To many folk woulda jus give up by now, but he's got grit. Clean grit, sure nuff, but grit jus the same. He ever learns how ta get messy an talk like plain folk stead o'that corified nancy boy crap an there won't be much in the verse as can stop him.
I know its a lot ta ask for, but couldja try not ta get grease on m'hat? I'm trustin ya ta keep it shiny for me.
Smile like ya mean it, meimei, an soon nuff ya will,
Jayne Cobb
The letter brought about a fit of giggling at Simon's expense. More tears, sure, but some point during the last hour, the tears themselves had begun to transition from bitter to healing. Simon grabbed the box. "Okay, you scoundrel, what do you have to say to me?"
The package was large and heavier than it looked. It clunked when Simon sat it on the table. He tore off the paper to reveal a slick little pistol, secured in a plain black holster, slung on a web-belt with a snap-and-lock buckle; there was also a small sketch book, almost unnoticed in the bundle. "A gun?" Simon was puzzled. He opened his letter, and read it to the group.
Simon,
I don't ritely know what ta say, so I'm gonna start with a genral pology for – well evrythin I ever done an said what wasn't rite with regard ta ya an yer sis. Think ya know already, but if not, have Mal share the part o'his letter bout Ariel. Ain't nuff words in the verse ta spress how sorry I am bout that, an even if I lived nuther 100 years, there weren't nuthin I could do as ta make up for it, so I ain't even gonna try. What I will do, tho, is ta give ya what comfert I can.
I was raised in church, same branch as Book – its why we got on so well. As such I know I ain't never gonna git ta see m'wife nor our yunguns agin. Men like me don't git ta go ta heaven. I done sinned to much for that. Mostly killin. Mite got in anyways if I were sorry for it all, but that ain't never gonna happen. Evryone I ever kilt had it comin, an theys that kilt m'family most o'all. Yer prolly wondrin bout that. Ask Zoë. She knows bout m'family.
Its rite funny, ain't it? I knowed I was goin ta hell for a long time now, but the only thing I done what I regret's the one thing I feel I akshully deserve it for. I can justify the killin. Can't never justify what I done on Ariel. So I'm gonna go quietlike ta what I deserve. Its the least I can do for ya an yer sis.
Now as ta the gun. I know ya got that hippocritic oath thing what's always on yer mind. That do no harm marlarky. But ya been out in the black long nuff now ta know it ain't always so black an white, that sometimes its kill or be kilt. Ya ain't like me, ya don't deserve no early grave, so ya gotta be prepared ta defend yerself. Kaylee, to, for that matter, cause Lord knows she ain't the violent sort, not even when its needful. Ya got it in ya, tho, that streak o'steel runnin down yer backbone. An it ain't a bad thing ta have it, not out here.
The gun's a Xiao Emo PPK927, .38 caliber an I always called her Penny. Its also what Pa woulda called idiot proof. Its got a laser sight what'll shine a lil red dot where the bullet will hit. Ya will still need ta praktis some, jus ta get use ta the kick. I know ya ain't savy on gunlingo, so I made ya a owner's manual what even a lil kid could follow. I put this in there to, but I'm gonna add it ta the letter to, jus ta make sure it sinks in that head o'yourn.
The 2 thins ya always gotta keep in mind with guns – 1. ALWAYS ASUME ITS LOADED. Even if ya unloaded it when ya put it up an ya can see the clip rite there, always check the slide an visualy inspekt the chamber. 1 o'Pa's deputys fergot that rule an wound up shootin hisself thru his eye. Always double check. 2. Don't never point it at somethin ya ain't ready ta shoot. Guns is all kinds o'shiny fun, but they ain't toys an they ain't for games.
I'm gonna leave off by tellin ya the same thing what I tol Mal, sept his was for Inara, not Kaylee – ya best be treatin yer girl rite, else I'm gonna crawl outta hell an haunt yer dumb pigu.
Jayne Cobb
"Don't feel guilty," River said, directing her words to Simon. "He didn't write it to make you feel guilty."
Simon sniffled and absently reached for the sketchbook, expecting to see simple line-drawings and more mangled grammar and horrible spelling. "Wish I didn't, River," Simon said, opening the book. What greeted him was not what he was expecting – the drawings were both technically accurate and skillfully drawn, nearly enough that Simon felt he could reach through the page and pull the pieces through the paper. The written portion of his new owner's manual was done in Chinese that, if Simon were being completely honest, was likely more accurate than his own would have been. He frowned, suddenly realizing something. "That… that… that…"
"I don't think anger is better, but how come you're amused, too?" River asked, craning her neck to see over Simon's shoulder.
"He's the one who kept switching the cortex over to Chinese text! I thought it was you," Simon looked up at his sister. "Sorry, but it seemed like something you'd do." He turned back to the book and peered at the characters then looked at the letter once more. "Well, I'll be… That explains a bit, too." This last bit was said in an undertone that only Kaylee and River could really hear.
"What explains what?" Kaylee asked.
"Apparently, Jayne wasn't the uneducated moron I thought." He ducked the swat Kaylee aimed at his head. "Hey! I didn't mean anything by it, but look," he held out the book and the letter. "He can barely make himself understood with English, but the Chinese is perfectly clear."
Kaylee looked from the book to the letter and then up at Simon. "So?"
"The man was at least mildly dyslexic," Simon stressed. "Had I known, there are a whole host of things we could have done that would fix it so he had an easier time with English."
"Let it go, Simon," River said and Kaylee nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, Simon. It don't matter no more. Ya did help him," she said, "even though he didn't want it none."
"Yes, Simon," River knew Kaylee was referring to getting Jayne to Silverhold alive. She met her brother's gaze and nodded. "You did help him there at the end." She saw when he realized that his culpability in Jayne's last day being his last day was something she knew about. He could also see that she didn't blame him at all for it. He closed his eyes and nodded, then tapped the side of the box. "You want yours now?"
River shook her head. "Let Oriole go next."
The blonde looked a little surprised that she'd been included, but accepted the package and letter. The paper wrapping covered a small song book. She opened the letter and read it.
Oriole,
Sorry we din't git much time ta get ta know each othern. I don't ritely feel proper includin ya, but I din't want ya ta feel left out none, either. I know ya prolly wouldn'ta been upset if I din't, but that jus ain't me. Sides, I'm pretty sure we coulda been friends if I'd had more time.
The songbook's my favrit. It was given me a while back on Haven. I hope there's some new ones in it for ya. M'own gitar din't survive the crash what kilt our last pilot, else ya mite have gotten ta hear the songs afore now.
The rest o'the crew, septin Kaylee, prolly won't miss me much. That's ok tho. Ya never really saw it none, but I was a rite hundan a lot o'the time. Git em ta tell ya the stories. Kaylee's the one what'll miss me, an if ya could, don't let none o'the rest be to hard on her for it.
Ya maybe noticed the crew mostly acts like family. Yer a good sort an will fit in, prolly better an me. If ya want it, that is. Jus takes time.
Jayne Cobb
"If it weren't for the fact I saw how he acted right at first, leering at me and all, I'd suspect he was lying," Oriole said, flipping through the book he'd left for her. She already knew many of the songs it contained, but there were a few small notes here and there in the margins, changes to the lyrics that made them more personal to the crew she was now piloting for.
"No," Zoë replied. "He was telling the truth – he did have his moments of being a right bastard."
"My turn," River announced, diving for the box. She tore the paper off the bundle – a pair of matched pistols in hand-tooled leather holsters. Then picked up the letter and handed it to Simon as she immediately put the gun belt on.
Simon took the hint and read Jayne's letter to River.
River,
Hell, I dunno why I'm even botherin ta rite this. Ya prolly already know evrythin I'm gonna say. That in mind, crazy-ninja-assassin-girl, I'm jus gonna hit the hi bits.
River was smiling broadly, mouthing the words as Simon read them.
The guns are Flora an Fauna. Flora's in the rite holster an she kicks like a mule. Fauna's the left an pulls hi an ta the rite. They was always a lil small for me, so I spect they'll do for ya jus bout perfekt. Ya wanna praktis some afore ya really need em, tho. Drag yer brother along an show him how ta use his.
Always member ya can never have to much ammo. An don't lissen ta Mal when he says ta leave the grenades behind.
Look after this bunch for me, wouldja? They take a lot o'that, as I spect ya know already.
Jayne Cobb
River laughed. "They do at that, ape-man-with-a-girl's-name. And I'll do my best." She looked at the rest of the crew. He may have thought he owed me and Simon, but he didn't. He had reasons for all of it and stood by us in the end. And, after everyone has some time to heal, I'll let them know his fears were unfounded. He's with his family, and he just might drop by to visit every now and again. She'd not been able to help herself. When she felt Jayne's consciousness start slipping away, she'd focused on it, and unwittingly tagged along for the ride. "My very best."
A/N2: No, I haven't forgotten anybody. There's one more chapter (more of an epilogue, really), then – unless something really surprising happens – I think this will be all wrapped up. And from what little I could find online, dyslexia isn't as big a problem when the written language isn't an alphabet.
Wow. I think I cried with that. So, since I did, it's okay to admit it. Go on, ya know ya wanna.
