Jayne laid back in his bunk and stared at the ceiling. He had been lying back in this manner for about two hours, listening to the boat wake up around him. He heard the sound of Wash, singing in the shower. Kaylee, banging about in the engine room, doing her normal routine checks.

It was the normal sounds he had heard a million times. But he no longer felt part of it.

He had felt very empty after she had left. As if he had been given something that had eased the pain in his neck, the dull throb in his chest - but then, it had been taken away. Momentarily, it had made things worse.

An hour afterwards he had struggled to hold himself in. Once again, he had burnt with shame as he held back tears as he thought back to the old man's dying words. Randall had said it clear as day. If only he had been more of a... friend...

It had set him off again on his normal spiral. He had hung over his washroom sink, holding on to the edge as the nausea returned.

Did I shoot in mistake? Or..did I ruttin' mean it? Why did he gorram follow me anyway? What the hell is this….why'd he need the old man? That's disgustin'. Was it because….of…no, not me. But did I? Did I fail? Him. He must've been…alone. Gorram I wish I had Vera. Where is she…what the hell did he want from me anyway? I want the girl..…gorram sicko…lettin' an old man do that to him..gorram deserved it..Maybe I did want him dead. But how could I do that…why the hell did I do it.

He was only a kid.

Round and round and round and round…..

It had only been the memory of River, moving under him, that had finally pulled him out of his stupor. Returned him again to equilibrium. He was now lying, recovering. His mind half fearing when he returned to the darkness, considering seeking out Vera – who still promised a more final, if terrible, relief.

His normal reaction on being emotionally unsettled - to get up, move around, shift some weights, shoot a gun, wind up the Doc, punch Wash, until he got back t'normal – somehow seemed to be the last thing he wanted now. There was no energy, no drive.

As he lay there now, he thought again of River.At least she had provided some comfort. And, he admitted, more than physically. He'd been grateful at how unafraid she had been. She had been as confident as a woman twice her age. And, he had to admit, just as…enthusiastic. But, also – very intense. At times, he had been lost in her eyes. It had been…good. More than good.

I was gorram stupid, though, he thought. And then, guiltily -I came in her.

But, then, he admitted, he had loved how she had demanded. How her legs had held him, with surprising strength.

Thank god for women, he reasoned.

His mind flicked to his mother. He hadn't seen her in twenty years.

He missed her.

River had her back up against the wall of her bunk. She rubbed the water from her hair, as she had done moments ago from her body. The shower had been warm, refreshing. But it hadn't returned her to herself.

Wide eyed, she stopped momentarily as she remembered again the early morning. She had managed to creep back into the room just before Simon awoke. But she had been lucky. She knew that she had put her brother and her and Jayne at risk last night, betraying Mal's trust just when he had done so much to help. But she had had to see him.

She hadn't known why, but there had been such a pull. Curiosity? No, more. It had been more that had led her to lie with him. Somewhere along the line she had developed a connection to him. It had been a connection based on an ideal. A hope - that he was more than he appeared. A person she could connect with. And she had thought she had been wrong.

She had – but not as she thought. He had turned out to be more than she had hoped - not less.

She desired him. The first flush of feeling at his touch had shocked her, but she had quickly given way to it. Allowed herself to be carried away be the feel of him, touch of him, that smell. The waves, their waves. She lowered her head and exhaled. Even the memory was creating tiny butterflies again in her stomach.

She couldn't decide what it was that excited her so. But she knew she had been unable to tap into her feelings until she had seen him beaten. Before – she had held him at arms length. He was too seemingly strong, too inaccessible. But while down, he had let her in.

It wasn't that she had enjoyed his vulnerability. It was that, when she had seen it, it had been enough for her to make the link. She empathised. Every time he had thrust against her, she had known he had gained strength from her, as she had from him.

The biology textbooks didn't talk about that, she reasoned.

She had wished she hadn't had to leave him. She already wanted to return. To connect again. It had been so long since she had felt anything so intimate…perhaps never. She longed for evening again.

She knew that they had only a short time together. She also knew that after this, she would be alone, save for Simon. She had no expectations for Jayne to follow her - he was treading another path. But somehow it made it even more vital to embrace whatever he could give her, and what they could share, without caution or fear.

There was hope for him, she realised. That was enough, wherever their paths now went. And, she sensed, she had somehow managed to bring him hope where before – there had been none.

"Jayne!" Mal's head loomed out of the ceiling, through his hatch. "You feelin' a bit more talkative today?"

Jayne looked up. He had finally managed to pull on some clothes, but little else. He was staring absentmindedly at the wall, rubbing the stubble that was growing around his goatee. He was thinking of the girl.

Well, at least he got out of bed, reasoned Mal. It's a step. Though what the hell that expression is on his face I have no idea.

Slowly, the Captain manoeuvred himself down the ladder and into his room.

"You ain't comin' outa this pit at all?" he asked.

Jayne moved his head, sluggishly, to face him. "Nope. If you don't mind, I ain't feelin' quite my best right now." He tried to appear nonchalant, upbeat. Truth was, he was only just recovering from another bout of nerves.

I don't want the others to see, thought Jayne.

He already knew Mal had come to ask more questions. But he didn't want anyone's pity, least of all his. He would deal with it in his own way. Or not.

"We're just under three weeks from Montgom'ry," Mal announced, "That's the latest name for that hell-hole you call home, you gorram sore-head. But, in return, I need to know what problems you left back there in Persephone."

Mal moved towards the merc, and crossed his arms.

"If you won't tell me for you," he continued, "as yesterday you seemed mighty reluctant - at least tell me what I'll be facin' when I get back. My money says at least some gold-digger saw me drag your beaten cows-ass back on board, and figures they can pick up Randall's blood money."

Jayne looked at Mal as he stood before him. As normal, he had that look on his face of a man that wasn't about to take no for an answer. All the same, normally Jayne would have resisted. But somehow, now that he looked at Mal's face – he got a sudden urge to share.

Hell, it don't matter. I'm leavin' his crap-heel boat and this crap-heel life one way or another, he thought, dully. His mind flicked to River. But then, to Vera.

Jayne told him.

From the time back home, in Montgom'ry, to the gorram kid, to Randall. However – he din't tell him a word about how he felt. Facts was'all Mal was gettin', he decided. Ain't another man's business how he felt inside.

Mal sat, and listened. And as he did so, he found himself becoming more and more intrigued. However Jayne was dressing it up – and he knew he was – there was no avoiding it.

Jayne had killed the old man because of what he had done to this kid. Jayne hadn't been too clear about what that was, but the fact remained. Something had finally levered Jayne out of only thinkin' of himself.

"So," Jayne was ending, "Fact is that I've prob'ly caused you problems on Persephone. But in a way, you caused 'em yousel'. As I said, you shouldn't left me. Ain't no sense in puttin' yoursel' at –"

"Risk, Jayne?" interrupted Mal. "So you tell me than, what with your logic, that man-for-himself outlook – why did you turn that man's face concave with Vera's stock? Where's the 10 percent, Jayne? And if you're so gorram happy about everything, why are you holed up in here, and on your way back to a planet I ain't never heard you mention 'cept once in your life?"

Jayne clenched his jaw. "As I said before Mal, I still want outa this life. I ain't meant to be on a boat – with these people."

"Gosa," said Mal.

"What?"

"Gosa. And you know it. You know Jayne, I know you're a deceitful sommbitch but – turns out you're a shiny liar as well," said Mal. Jayne looked up at Mal's face. Despite his low mood, he couldn't help himself but to feel a flash of anger as his gorram superior tone.

"Careful Mal. I might be down but I can still gorram – "

"Quiet," said the Captain. "You knew about the girl's power. You must've when she saved your life from that gorram cat. So what I don't get, is why you never said nuthin' to me, when I figure you hate the gorram Tams. And also, why you killed a man who could've offered you the sort of work that a few weeks back you would've easily killed for."

Jayne's anger ebbed away as quickly as it had come. " Dunno. Can't a man –"

"Change his mind? No Jayne, not you. No." He paused. "Can't you see, you dumbass? What you've done is changed yoursel'."

For a moment Mal's words hung in the air.

He then continued: "You remember the time in the airlock? I meant to kill you. But then you showed me sumthin'. That you did care about the others, or at least what they thought. And it saved your life, you gorram ape. But after, I thought, it was a glitch. You played me. But now, I think I was wrong. I think that – you're actually kinda like –"

"What?" barked Jayne. Mal stepped back in alarm as the merc suddenly leapt to his feet. " I'm like what? Like you?"

Jayne's face had suddenly flushed red.

"If you believe that's true you're more of a gorram idiot that I thought you were. What I do is for my own reasons and I don't need you dressin it up into sumthin' it ain't."

He paused, momentarily. But Mal noticed a slight tremble in his voice when he added: "At the end of the day, I killed the kid, not that evil piece of gosa. So what does that make me Mal? Am I really like you? Am I.." he moved forward, and pushed Mal sharply in the ribs. " Am I really. Like. You?"

Mal slammed backwards into the wall. He raised his eyes and gave the merc a warning glare.

But he had seen enough as a solider to know what this was about.

I've caught a nerve, thought Mal. I've caught him.

"Okay," said Mal, "Okay. You told me what I wanted. So you get the deal."

He moved to go. It had been worth it. But it was time to leave.

So it was really no more than an aside when he added, " Montgom'ry's not such as distance anyway. And we've got to drop off the Tams."

"What?" said the merc. Malglanced at the sudden shock that came to the big man's face. Figures, he thought. He's prob'ly thinking there's an irony they go just as he does.

'Yeah, Jayne. Well, what did you expect? At the end of the day, she's a danger. We don't know, you see – what makes her work. Whether if by some accident she could just go off. Kill us all. So she's got to go. And of course, Simon."

Mal made a start up the ladder.

But Jayne reached out a hand, and held him on the knee.

"Well," he said, with a strange look on his face, "Where you takin' em?'

Mal paused, before replying: "There's a safe house in Bisonville. Run by some of mine. It won't be pretty but it's be secure." He gave the big man a half-guilty look. "They're gonna lock her up."

And with that, Mal rose up the ladder, leaving Jayne staring into space behing him.

I'll be back tomorrow, figured Mal., as he pushed open the hatch.I'm gonna get it out of him once and for all. Because I think he's making that change I never thought he could.

In which case, reasoned Mal, his place wasn't on some gorram weldin' town. He pulled himself through the opening, and closed it behind him.

It's with us, he decided. With me.