Back at Serenity, Zoe was bothered. She was used to Mal making impulsive decisions, but she wasn't used to him makin' them without tellin' her why. But here they were, back at Persephone - only a day after they pulled out of port.
"It's probably some mysterious war thing," offered Wash, as they sat together at the galley table. Zoe was cleaning one her knives.
She caught a glance towards her husband. "In which case, darling, why didn't he take me?"
"Hm. A mysterious man-only war thing?"
Zoe raised an eyebrow. She then looked at her pocket watch, and considered.
"Well, he's been out for a few hours. If he's not back in another. I'm going out lookin'."
Meanwhile, in the hold, Kaylee, Simon, River and Inara were playing horseshoes, as Book looked on.
It was Kaylee's turn. As she held a rusted shoe in her hand, she narrowed her eyes and ever-so-slighty stuck out her tongue. She was concentrating on her target – a metal bar stuck through one of the hold gratings about twenty feet away.
Eventually, she threw it. It bounced off one of the crates standing alongside the bar, and clattered on the floor close to Simon's feet.
He looked up at Kaylee, nervously. "Hm. Good try?" he offered. Kaylee glowered.
River rolled her eyes impatiently, before wordlessly grabbing another shoe from the floor, and propelling it into the air. It slammed into the bar, span around, and came to rest, dead on target.
Inara laughed gaily as she clapped her hands together. Kaylee and Simon gave River an irritated look.
"S'no fair!" said Kaylee. "She's got maths in her brain!"
"And a half-ton of extra weight hanging round my front," replied River, as she moved her hand steadily round to her back. "Not exactly conducive to parlour games."
Inside her, she felt another kick.
Jayne, stopped, looked across at the boat and sighed. It was Serenity, as Mal had said, in port, and lookin' just as fine but beat-up as ever.
There was only a few hundred feet of distance from him and her open hold.
A few hundred feet between him and - her.
Well, that. And a mass of mud and churning locals.
Mal, who had up until that point been trailing behind the mercenary, now pulled up alongside him. He attempted to catch his breath. "Jayne," he gasped, "I was gonna say - before you took off like a ruttin' gazelle -that it might be a good idea that I just give her warnin' before you just appear. It might give her a - shock."
The merc was barely listening. He furrowed his brow. "Eh?"
His eyes were focused on the hold. His gut tensed. She was in there, somewhere.
Absentmindedly, he replied: "She's had sharps bits stuck in her brain, Mal. Been frozen, shot at, not to mention been party to a bit of tumblin' with yours truly. I can't say as there's much'll shock her."
Jayne exhaled. He could feel his throat tightening with nerves and excitement. He remembered now the feel of her thighs around his waist. Her lips across his neck, on his chest. Her slippery, lithe back. But also her big, dark eyes. Like pools of oil.
Pools to get lost in. Make things better.
I'm gonna see her, he thought. Feel her. His breath quickened.
He went to step forward, but Mal caught his arm. "Well, all the same," he said, "All the same. I think it would be best."
"Why?" Jayne's head whipped around to face Mal.
Mal saw that the tense but exhilarated look he had worn just seconds before had disappeared. He was now looking ashen. "Is there sumthin' wrong with her?" he demanded.
"Nothin', she is well and healthy," replied Mal. "I jus' think.."
"She don't really want to see me, does she?" Jayne suddenly barked. "Dammit, Mal, don't screw me around!"
There was a note of threat in his voice. Mal recognised that, despite the anxiety in his features, he was deadly serious. In fact, as he stood there, one eye on the ship, and the other bearing down on Mal, the Captain saw there was something in the way he was holding himself that sent shivers down his spine. It was - primal.
If this is love, thought Mal. I don't want none of it.
Mal's hand, which was still resting on Jayne's arm, tightened its grip. He could feel the merc's sinews tensing, so he started to speak, in a low, calm voice. "Jayne. Look, she does. I know so, 'cos I only had the gorram conversation with her yesterday, but I didn't tell her I was comin' back for you, jus' in case my hunch was wrong.I just need to give her a little time to get her head round it. I mean, it could be upsettin'"
Mal thought of River's hand, resting gently on her stomach.
Jayne glared at the smaller man as he considered. And after a time, he gave a slow nod. His shoulders lowered. "Okay," he said. "We'll get a bit closer, but then you can go in. Give me the nod, and I'll come."
"Jus' don't be too long, though," he added, sharply. And then, in a rare moment of exposure, he rasped: "This is bustin' me up. I wanna see her so much. But I also wanna - leave. Understand?"
Again, his tone was half-threat – half-plead. Mal looked at the big man's eyes. He's a survivor, thought Mal. But emotionally, he's a child. It's like, she's the adult.
Strange how those things work out.
Mal nodded, and together, they stepped into the throng.
Minutes later, Mal stepped up Serenity's ramp, alone.
He stopped, momentarily, and peered over his shoulder. In the near distance, he saw Jayne. He was standing, his head slightly bowed, just under one of the heavy tarpaulins that draped across the storefronts along Persephones' harbour. He was looking out at the boat from under his brows. He had a cigar lit, and was pulling on it, nervously.
Mal gave him a look. Wait there.
Jayne blinked.
Mal then turned around, and looked into the hold. Immediately his eyes fell onto River, who was sitting on the hold floor, propped up against a crate. She was wearing her usual mercenary garb, but her feet were bare.
She was watching Kaylee have another attempt at throwing a horseshoe. Inara sat slightly in front of her. They were both laughing.
He stood there for a moment, watching her. As River's smiled, she tossed her dark hair back, revealing her slim neck and shapely collarbones. She looks happy, he thought.
He glanced back at Jayne. He noticed that the merc's face had changed again.The big manwas looking past Mal, into the hold. His cigar was hanging off the corner of his mouth.
He's seen her, thought Mal.
The Captain turned again to look at River. She was laughing again, merrily. She's done well to cope alone, he thought. But now it looks as if she'll not have to, anymore.
Decisively, he took a step forward.
But just then - Zoe's hand caught his sleeve.
"Sir," she began. She had appeared out of nowhere."Where have you been? It's hard enough keeping track of what the gosa we're doing most days, without you going awol as well…"
"Mal glanced at Zoe, quickly. He then looked back at the girl. He shook Zoe's hand off his arm. "Yes, well, I'm sorry. I've jus' been sortin' something out. As you'll see if you just let me –"
"But sir – "
Over under the tarp, Jayne's hand started to form a fist. His eyes had found what they were looking for.
He couldn't see much. But what he could, was enough. Her head and shoulders, peeping out from behind one o' them cargo crates. She was smiling. Her hair was as black as a Montgomr'y sky.
His hand started to shake.
"Gorram it," he murmured, "Keep it together. C'mon. Jayne."
Zoe let Mal go."Okay. Sorry. I was just. Worried."
"I know. My bad. But you'll see," Mal looked at Zoe for a moment. He hesitated. Then he moved his mouth to her ear. "I've got –" he hissed – "Jayne outside."
Zoe started. As she did so, Inara glanced across at her and Mal. Her brow furrowed.
"So I've managed to get him to agree. To talk to her," Mal was saying. "He's outside…"
Inara suddenly appeared at his arm. "Mal…? What is it?" she inquired.
Mal sighed in exasperation.
"Jayne?" said Zoe.
Inara looked at Zoe, then back at Mal. "Jayne?"she repeated. "He's alive?"
Mal's hands formed two fists, which he then proceeded to shake. "Yes, gorram it. Jayne. Under the tarp across the road. Anyway, don't do nuthin'. He's like a bear -"
But as he said it, both Inara and Zoe had already turned to look.
Jayne watched as both Inara and Zoe's eyes fell on him. He felt the flush of a nervous sweat begin to appear on his brow.
Jayne noticed a look on Inara's face.
"She don't look too happy," he said, aloud.
Inara strained her eyes, grimacing. "I can't see him."
Jayne looked again at Inara.
He saw River laughing.
She looks happy, he thought. Beautiful.
And then.
"I'm not sure I c'n do this."
Zoe meanwhile, had caught Mal's collar as he had started once again towards the girl.
"Well, are you sure that's wise?" she asked.
"What?" Mal was getting mighty irritated.
Meanwhile, on the floor, River had noticed the whispering coming from them, as they stood close to the ramp. She narrowed her eyes, and tried to overhear.
"She's over six months gone. Ain't you supposed to avoid shocks…"
Zoe had read up on it. Afterall, since River had got pregnant, it had been an opportunity to see how, perhaps, faml'y life fitted on this boat. P'raps convince Wash. Not that he had a choice anyway.
"Yes," said Mal, " which I why I'm givin' her some warnin' before the big ape lumbers over. He ain't good in these situations. Gets - upset."
Jayne looked down at the ground. He looked at his hands, which were covered in dirt, and beer. He could hear his heart pumping in his ears.
"Hm," he said.
And then, "No."
He began to turn.
River, slowly, rose up from where she sat. For an instant, she allowed herself to lean against the crate she had previously been sitting on. She was still holding one of the old horseshoes used in the game.
As she steadied herself, she angled her head to look at the Captain. He body was leaning in her direction, but his head was turned towards the two women. They were in deep discussion about – what?
She could feel a mix of emotion from them. Some excitement. Much concern.
River started to walk towards them, her hand placed protectively under her bump. As she did so, she saw Inara catch view of her out of the corner of her eye. A look of panic went across the Companion's face.
River stopped in her tracks. Zoe also raised her eyes to hers.
"What?" said River. "What is it?"
But as she asked, her own eye caught the profile of a familiar figure, moving slowly away from Persephone's madding crowd. A pair of broad shoulders, supporting a pair of clean, silver gun barrels.
The back of his neck.
Her horseshoe landed on the hold floor with a clatter. And then, barefooted, she started to run.