Title: Like Woman He is Mystery
Author: Blue Buick R
Notes: This is only my second Firefly fic so don't judge me too harshly, I'm not sure how well I got all the character nuances. Feedback is more than welcome.
Despite the futility of it Inara let out a cry of both fright and anger as her silk stockings were roughly yanked down her legs. She received a stunning blow to the temple for her trouble.
"Bizui you jian huo," the man hissed, rucking her dress up around her hips with calloused fingers which dragged and caught on the fine silk. "You'll get over it quick. 's not like you're a proper woman or nothin'."
Under any other circumstances Inara would have rolled her eyes at that. Only a man, especially one who was about to do what this one was about to, would have the gall to spout out such complete and utter le-se. Considering her position at the moment, however, the very falsity of the statement did very little to comfort her. Quite the opposite actually.
As the man fumbled with his belt buckle, she prepared herself by letting her mind wander. It was a useful trick, one the guild instilled in all its students; for despite the rarity of such occurrences it was known to happen…especially to those who ventured too far from the core looking for business. She let her mind drift to Mal and how, if she survived this, she was going to kill him. 'Perfectly safe', 'no weapons allowed on the premises', 'what could happen?'. That was easy for him to say, he didn't have a man without doubt the size of Jayne Cobb on top of him. And while she was trained in self defense, once the man had surprised her and got her down there was very little she could do.
Speaking of the mercenary, Inara was more than a little surprised when her musings, and the man's attempts to unbutton his fly, were interrupted by the door crashing open and slamming soundly against the wall. Her heart soared as she caught sight of Jayne storming into the room, neither pausing to take in his surroundings or bothering to say a word, as he made a beeline for them. He yanked the large man off her one handed, relieving some of the pressure from her chest and allowing her to take in a much needed deep breath. The man landed on his rear, bouncing once before recovering with surprising alacrity. He rolled to his feet and snatched a nearby earthenware jug, which he promptly brought down on the side of Jayne's head.
Inara winced and rolled to the side as a shower of pottery shards and sour smelling ale rained down on them. The blow staggered the mercenary, dropping him to one knee, but failed to knock him unconscious. Inara had to admit she was impressed to see him turn his stumble into an offensive strike as he pushed forward with one leg, tackling his attacker by the waist and bringing them both down in a jumble.
The two men rolled around on the filthy planks of the storage room floor for a moment, and before Inara could make a break for the door and some help, she saw Jayne's hand brush against her discarded stockings. His fingers twitched and suddenly they were in his hands and around his adversary's neck.
She watched, unable to turn away, as Jayne rolled the man ove,r pulling him up with a yank of the ever tightening stockings. Mal's hired man put one heavy booted foot in the middle of her would-be-rapist's back and pushed down hard, while keeping a steady pressure on the now almost wire thin stockings. Every now and then he'd give a hard jerk, wrapping more of the material around his hands, taking up the slack. Inara could see blood blooming on her attacker's neck and on Jayne's hands as the stockings cut into flesh, the skin bloating slightly and turning purple with the lack of circulation.
The man was making no sound as he struggled vainly, the only noise in the room being Jayne's (and her own) mockingly heavy breaths.
Finally the body - it was a body now - went slack, slumping forward, straining against the stockings in Jayne's grip. The mercenary tugged his make shift leash back and forth a bit, watching the body flop about, before he seemed satisfied, and finally set his foot back on the ground.
"Remind me to kick Mal's ass for you," he threw her way without looking up from his task of carefully unwinding the strangling silk from around his bloody hands. "Stupid hun dan is so busy trying to make it look like he's not watching your every move that he don't watch your every move."
"I don't need a babysitter," she told him, smoothing her dress down and carefully fingering the slight swelling on the side of her face, trying to assess the damage.
Jayne snorted. "Right. I'll just get the doc then and he can resus this here fella," he toed the corpse none too gently, "and I'll leave you two to your business."
Inara pursed her lips tightly then sighed. "Jayne?" she said.
He looked over to her then even as he pulled a bit of his shirt up to touch to the tip of his tongue, in, what she assumed, was an attempt to taste the ale with which he'd been clobbered.
"Thank you."
He let the shirt go and shrugged, wiping his hands on the front instead, leaving brilliant red streaks in their wake.
"Hell, 'nara, he had it coming. You're a business woman and he wanted it for free," he spat heavily on ground. "That ain't right."
She regarded him for a moment a wisp of a smile playing across her lips.
"No," she agreed. "It isn't right at all."
Having grown up in a wealthy and influential core family River never had the opportunity to go grocery shopping before. Food and household items were always just there, magically restocking themselves when needed. She realized household employees most likely went about the daily purchase of required items, going to and from the labyrinth of fresh food markets and giant grocery chains, armed with specifically keyed credit cards carrying amounts set by her mother or father as to keep the help honest. Or perhaps they purchased everything via the cortex, looking through captures of hopeful apples and cumquats and shy little beans all hoping to be chosen and delivered to their new homes. Whatever the case, River never had the opportunity to go grocery shopping before. Until now.
She skipped along the isle, opening doors and peeking into bins searching, searching for the items on her list. She hadn't needed to write it all down. Told once, quick and clipped. In one ear and never out the other. They didn't have any paper anyway.
She opened one door, and peered into the blackness, the display light having gone out. But she could smell this was the place. Could smell the sharpness of the items on her list. Cataloguing, sifting, looking for the right ingredients. Their soup wouldn't be any good without the right components; the chemical interactions falling flat on the pallet…no fire in the belly.
It was a wonderful recipe, wonderful in its simplicity, in its ability to make use of what was on hand…to shift and adapt to the available ingredients, but in the end always turning out the same. She would have to teach it to Kaylee or the Shepherd. She cocked her head to the side as she picked up one of the items on her list, on second though the Shepherd probably already knew this recipe.
Squealing in delight she caught sight of the last of her groceries and scoop it up enthusiastically, checking it over for bruises, reading the label carefully. Mission accomplished she ghosted back along the isle, careful not to drop any of her armload, wishing she had the foresight to bring a basket or cart. The thought made her smile.
Reaching her destination she gently kicked at the door, morse code, asking for admittance, while peering into the small round window set one third of the way down its surface. It wasn't long before the door swung open with a quiet hiss.
"'bout time," the chef said.
"I had to make sure everything was ripe," she explained.
He took some of the items from her overflowing arms, looking them over as he walked over to the counter. "Yeah, well we don't have a lot of time."
She nodded her head in understanding. It was almost supper time. Gently putting down the items she was carrying beside those already assembled, both hers and those the chef collected, she surveyed the entirety.
"It will be very spicy," she observed.
He didn't look over to her, but instead kept is attention fixed on the measuring cups he was filling and dumping into the large pot set to the side. "It'll have a kick alright," he said. "But that's kinda the point."
Already the ingredients in the pot were combining to create and powerful odor, bringing tears to both their eyes. Scent of onions in the air.
She watched him measure taking careful note, and when the last teaspoon was added the chef took the pot over to the stove and turn on the element, making sure to keep it at a moderate temperature. Excessive temperature River realized and it would boil over and make a terrible mess.
"It cooks up fast, so we gotta split," chef told her, grabbing her by the elbow and pulling her from the room.
"Time to get the others," she agreed. Get it while it's hot.
They moved back along the isles, seeing no other shoppers at this late hour, until they came to the right door; chef popping the heavy handle and pulling the weighty steel open in a wave of cold and frosted air.
They stood there at the ready; the captain, Zoe, and the preacher with heavy slabs of frozen meat in their hands…Kaylee and Simon a chicken leg each.
"Yesu, Jayne!" the captain exclaimed, rushing out from the cold, rubbing his arms briskly. "What took you so long?"
"Had some stuff to do," was the reply.
The captain pointed a finger in the larger man's chest. "Maybe next time you might wanna get your priorities straight and come for the poor folk locked in the meat locker before you go do whatever else you gotta do."
River made a face. "We had to do it first," she explained, "or it would have done you no good. Warm soup for cold feet."
"What? Mei, mei," Simon started but was interrupted by the sound of a large explosion, dust and plaster shaking from the ceiling to rain down on them all like powdered sugar on a cake. River blinked up into it, grit getting in her eyes. Dessert.
"What the hell was that?" Zoe asked calmly.
"A diversion." "Soup." Both chef and River replied instantaneously.
Soon they could hear feet moving about, people running to a fro in a panic.
"We best get out of here while the gettins' good," chef said, turning go.
As they ran from the front door and across the lawn River turned back to see the firefly glow engulfing half the large building, windows blown out, smoke rising it dark columns to disappear into the black sky. Jayne made very good soup. She would have to remember not to forget the recipe. To that end she began to recite the ingredients in her head, making them into a song: solvent, insecticide, drain cleaner, bleach…
Kaylee truly didn't mind living day to day, hand to mouth. Working jobs only to make enough money to get them to the next one was their way of life. It wasn't like they purposefully looked for low paying runs, they took the occasional risk and went for the big pay off, but that money never lasted. They usually spent it on whatever struck their fancy, basking in the glow of success for a time before starting all over again. And really she didn't see it as irresponsibility or anything like that, because what else were they going to do with it? She couldn't imagine any of them saving up for a nice little farm house, or the new line of hover craft. They bought what they needed, then they bought what they liked, simple as that. There weren't no rainy days in the Black.
Except they weren't in the Black right now, they was on a planet, and it was raining pretty damn hard. She stood there soaked through staring at the shiny piece of machinery sitting in the window like it were the cutest damn puppy she'd ever seen. Her hair was plastered against her head, water running off the tip of her nose like a spigot, shuffling feet squishing in the ever increasing mud.
She stood there for a long while and in spite of thick clouds she could almost feel his shadow looming over her as he sidled up behind her.
"Watcha looking at?" he asked.
She let her gaze drift from the part to refocus on their reflections in the window, catching his eye. Jayne was looking over her shoulder, a piece of fried meat of some sort spited on a stick in his hand.
"Nothin'," she sighed.
"Don't look like nothin'," he replied, bringing his cabob back up to his mouth, white teeth tearing at it.
Kaylee turned to look at him, forcing him to take a step back. "What does it look like then?"
He shrugged one shoulder, wiping at the glisten of grease on his chin, water pouring off the brim of his hat like a waterfall.
"A piece of junk," he offered.
She stamped her foot, a small explosion of water and mud erupting from beneath her shoe. "It aint a piece of junk!" she fumed. "It's the best converter out there, it'd cut our energy consumption by a third…as it is that's a third we're wasting on nothin'."
He grinned at her then, eyes sharp, and she realized he said what he said just to get a rise out of her. Get her to rant about that "nothin'" in the window.
"You're such a hun dan," she huffed, cheeks staining.
"You want me to hold the place up?" he offered, and she wasn't sure whether he was joking or not.
"Nah, those types of deals go south more times than they go right, you know that," she replied. "I don't want no one getting shot or hurt because I can't get what I want."
Jayne laughed at her. "Can't think of a better reason to shoot someone."
"No shooting," she reaffirmed.
Looking back toward the window the mercenary stooped to get a look at the price then straightened and tossed his snack over his shoulder into the mud.
"C'mon," he said, moving back down the street and toward the ship.
"Jayne?" she called after him, jogging to catch. "Jayne, what're you up to? I told you I don't want no one to get hurt!"
"I'm not going to hurt no one," he told her as she reached his side. "Why you gotta assume I'm going to hurt someone?"
"Because I know you," she replied, smile in her voice.
He shook his head. "No you don't."
She sobered a bit at this but couldn't think of anything to say. Luckily the trip back to the ship was a short one and as they made their way up the ramp, the rain cutting off abruptly as they passed into the bay, Jayne turned to her.
"You got any mercury on hand?" he asked.
"Sure," she offered with enthusiasm, trying to hide her unease. "Why?"
"And what coin you got, its coppers then?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "It's the reason I can't get that converter in the first place."
Jayne nodded his head one hand reaching up to stroke the whiskers on his chin.
"Go get that mercury and the money and meet me in my bunk."
"Jayne, what're…"
"You want that piece of le-se or not?" he interrupted her briskly.
She nodded her head, mouth dropping open in a slight 'o'.
"Then get to it, girl."
It didn't take her but a moment or two to gather her small bag of coin and the bottle of mercury Jayne asked for. The hatch to his bunk was open when she got there so she took one last look up and down the corridor before balancing her items in one hand and descending the ladder.
Once she reached the bottom she saw Jayne sitting on his bed, a small table pulled over to him, a knife and a rag sitting on its pitted surface.
"C'mere," he beckoned her, patting the mattress beside him.
She silently complied, setting her money and mercury on the table before taking a seat perched precariously on the edge of the bed.
"I'm gonna show you a trick here," Jayne said as he up-ended the bag of coins. "Used to do this as a kid back home, pulling one over on the shop keepers 'til they got wise."
Kaylee watched fascinated as he opened the bottle of mercury, taping out a small amount onto the rag, the liquid metal rolling together into shimmering beads.
"What you gotta do it try and get a thin coating of mercury over the copper, makes em' look like platinum. It takes some practice to get it to stick right, but once you got a bag full of them and if the store keeper don't look too hard you can usually pass them off."
The mercenary was deftly maneuvering the beads of mercury over the coins with his knife, spreading it out like butter, rubbing it now and then with the corner of the rag. It wasn't long before he had one whole coin coated silver.
Kaylee gaped. "That stuffs poison, Jayne!"
Ignoring her he picked up the next coin and began the process again.
"Jayne!" she smacked him in the arm.
He looked up from his work and scowled at her. "As long as you're careful and don't do it too often you're fine! Them x-rays are poison too, but that don't stop them from installing them in shoe shops so's people and kids can look at their feet."
"I'm pretty sure that ain't good for you either," Kaylee pointed out.
He put down the coin and knife and sat back to look at her. "You want me to stop then? Forget all about that machine part got you all wet?"
It was Kaylee's turn to scowl. Snatching up the small knife she slapped it back into his hand.
"Show me again."
Zoe really shouldn't have been surprised. If she were to run across any member of the crew in a place like this it would definitely have to be Jayne Cobb. Not Inara and what she was, or Kaylee and her lonely perchance for toys, or Wash and his talk and fantasies, but Jayne. Jayne who didn't really have or need a reason for where he was other than being who he was. The question was did she want Jayne to run across her?
Biting her lip, she watched him as he perused the rack of magazines and captures, discarding some, passing over others, lingering now and again to flip through the images. She assumed he was trying to get his fill without having to pay for anything, storing the images away in his memory to trot out in his bunk on those endless nights in the Black.
She smirked, mind made up. There weren't no reason for her to be self-conscious about being there. She was a married woman with an active sex life…and well, Wash always got so stuttery when it came to stocking up on essential supplies that he always had Zoe go do it.
Deciding to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, she squared her shoulders and strode up to Jayne, weaving in and out of the display racks of molded plastic, leather and silk.
His attention completely absorbed by whatever image he was bent over he nearly leapt out of his skin when Zoe tapped him on the shoulder. And while he needed to pay better attention to his surroundings, there wasn't anything wrong with his draw, as Zoe found his pistol instantly settled between her eyes.
"Jayne," she greeted him.
"Ta shi suoyou diyu de biaozi de ma!" he swore at her, instantly lifting the gun up and away from her head. "You don't sneak up on a body like that!"
"I didn't so much sneak as walk," she informed him. "You were just too damn interested in your reading material there to notice."
He holstered his gun, colour rising, but Zoe wasn't sure whether it was from embarrassment for being found out in a place like this, or from being caught off guard. Knowing Jayne she guessed the latter.
She made a show of glancing down at the magazine in his hand. "Or is it more of a picture book?"
Tossing the slightly crumpled magazine back onto the rack the mercenary grimaced. "Somethin' like that."
Curious despite herself Zoe looked more closely at the issue he just chucked, not expecting anything particularly exotic but more along the line of your regular fare of crude breasts and wide spread thighs. She was to be surprised.
Legs. Long, lean, legs with high heeled shoes and fine stockings. Snatching the magazine up she flipped through the pictures. All were of women, sometimes naked, sometimes half clothed, but all of them showing off their shapely legs. Bare legs, fish nets, garters, high heels, a myriad of well turned ankles, calves, and thighs. Zoe blinked.
"I always figured you for a chest man, Jayne," she stated.
The merc snatched the open magazine from her hands and threw it into the rack.
"Hey!" the clerk yelled from behind the counter.
"Shadup!" Jayne snarled back, before looking back to Zoe. "Okay," he hissed. "I'm gonna tell you a story."
She nodded and leaned toward his bent head in a conspiratorial huddle.
"When I was a baby my ma breast fed me like most women out on the rim tend to do. Now I'm told I was as fond of food back then as I am of it now, and they had a hell of a time to get me off the nipple and onto solid food on a regular basis. I was about two when my mother got fed up with it and decided to take matters into her own hands. She went and put petroleum jelly on her tit and stuck some chili pepper flakes onto it so's when I went to take a mouthful I got the surprise of my life. It work…I spit it out and never went back."
Zoe didn't even try to stifle her laughter. "Scarred you for life did it?"
Jayne straightened. "Put me off titties for a good long while, I can tell you that. Now don't get me wrong, a nice set is a beautiful thing, but I get a look at them and can't help feeling I can't trust them none. Give me a good pair of stems any day."
Before she could stop herself Zoe looked down at her own legs in assessment.
Jayne caught her and leered. "Ain't a better pair in the 'verse, Zoe."
Smiling smugly she watched him saunter out of the store, the man behind the counter yelling after him.
"Hey, hey you! You damaged that magazine you bought it!"
Zoe waved the incensed shop keeper off. "I got it," she said, fishing out a coin and flipping it over to him. Picking up the crumpled magazine, she tucked it under her arm as she waded back amongst the shelves, searching for her own supplies.
End