Mal caught up to the fleeing Jayne pretty quickly

"Where you headed, Jayne?" he asked.

"Gonna get some whiskey and a cigar, Mal," the mercenary snapped. "What I need most, though, is a bit o' trim. Figure that oughta be easy enough to find here."

"Reckon that's gotta wait. See, we got us a bar to find," the Captain reminded him.

"Awww, Mal," Jayne whined, even though he was really pissed.

"Huh. Figured that'd make you happy, Jayne. Losing your edge?" he taunted.

Incensed, Jayne practically roared, "Hell no! I just...gorrammit FINE. Just don't expect me to do no 'Male-Bondin' or the like. I'm only going for the liquor and the inevitable brawl. Guess I can settle for some gruesome violence insteada gettin' laid. For now." he added, muttering.

Mal clamped a friendly hand on the big man's shoulder. "Mighty big words you're using lately. Some might say the Doc's sister's been rubbin' off on you," he told him with a smirk and strode ahead in search of that bar.

"Shut up Mal," Jayne barked and stomped off behind him.

For some odd reason, Mal kept chasing off any woman that approached them. He kept ordering drinks, but didn't let Jayne get cozy with a potential bed-mate.

And Jayne was getting highly annoyed.

So when some foolish hun dan lifted his glass and called for a salute to the 'Mighty Alliance', he was actually tempted to throw the first punch himself.

Mal laid a hand on his arm to stop him, and rose to confront the rough-looking and very drunk purple-belly sympathizer.

Jayne didn't hear what words were exchanged, but after the guy punched the Captain, all hell broke loose. And he was happy to be wallowing in hell.

The Merc lost track of how many people he'd laid out but he really didn't care. Mal was right: this was exactly what he needed.

When he felt a firm hand grab his shoulder, Jayne spun around, fist drawn back, ready to knock in some teeth.

"Jayne, didn't expect to find you here," commented a smartly dressed Jester.

"Gotta back up my captain," he smirked, jerking his head toward Mal who was holding his own quite well.

Jester surveyed the scene and shook his head in frustration...and amusement.

"ALRIGHT! Everyone listen up! That's enough. THAT IS ENOUGH!" Jester yelled. Most paused in mid punch.

"This here's a business, not a battlefield. Take that gos se elsewhere."

"But this...Browncoat," spat the sympathizer, "He--"

"I don't rightly care who did what or who started it. All I know is, I'm finishing it. So, as a courtesy, how 'bout every body settle back down and the next two rounds are on the house?" he offered.

The bar erupted in cheers and the people who had just been engaged in knocking each other out went back to drinking as if nothing had happened.

"Well, thanks for ruining a perfectly good brawl between folk," Mal said with a lop-sided, busted lipped grin as he gingerly limped over.

"Least I could do for a friend," Jester responded playfully. "So, when did you pick up this piece of luh suh," he asked jokingly, cocking his head towards Jayne.

Mal thought for a second, then answered, "Been well over a year and half now, ain't it?"

Jayne grunted and shrugged. He rarely kept track of dates.

"Best move you ever made, Malcolm," Jester told him, seriously.

"That remains to be seen," Mal also said seriously.

"Yeah, well...seems I remember telling you not to go starting any fights, either."

With mock surprise Mal countered, "I am shocked that you think I would do such a thing."

At Jester's disbelieving stare and Jaynes snort, Mal continued, "I didn't start it! Well, I didn't throw the first punch. That's gotta count for something, right?"

The nattily dressed man huffed and smiled, "Yeah, it does. And you rarely do throw the first punch, Malcolm."

Jayne smiled very widely, "No. He just likes to fight like hell to have the last one." Then the Merc added grumpily, "So, we gonna drink now or what?"

"Indeed we are my friends," Jester agreed and called over a barmaid.

Drinking whiskey after whiskey, Mal and Jester reminisced over their days fighting the Alliance. Jayne sat by listening half-heartedly and tried to catch the eye of a sexily clad woman across the bar. Her red silk chinese style dress hugged her every ample curve, and the black stitching sparkled in the dim light. She was tall, had long blonde hair, green eyes and was very big chested.
Everything River was not.

Just as he looked to be successful, Mal clapped his hand on Jayne's shoulder pulling him around trying to get his attention. The woman swiveled around in her seat and struck up a conversation with the man next to her.

"Gorramit Mal, what?" he snapped.

"Might tetchy, ain't ya? Thought knocking in some heads would cheer you up."

"Ain't what I wanna be knocking," he murmured crudely.

Mal looked him in the eye and asked, slurring a bit, "You sure you wanna be doin' that?"

"What the--? Of course I do! Told ya what I was after when I first got off the ship."

"S'pose I had my fun," the very drunk Captain sighed. "Best leave you to yours, if you can find it. Jester and me...we got some business to take care of. I wanna hear his side of what happened on Shadow."

"Guess I owe you a bit of an explanation, eh?" Jester asked after he downed another shot.

"That you do, my friend."

Jayne had had enough. "Whatever. You two sit around cryin' in your beer--"

"Whiskey," they chimed together.

"...While I go about finding myself a little DIversion," Jayne continued with a leacherous grin.

Mal raised his glass in a mock salute. "Good luck with that," he said frowing slightly. "Won't work. I tried it," he told the Merc cryptically, slurring even more.

Jayne looked at him, confused. Then he shook his head in disbelief and headed right for the blonde.