Author's Note: Hey, people, sorry for the crazy wait for the 16th episode. I wrote the 15th one over my Winter Break and now I'm back in school and I'm taking a whopping 17 credits (bad idea, college freshman, bad idea…) So anyway, I've been busy with class and homework and social crap. I hope this tides you over till I dream up the next installment. Thanks for sticking with it!
Serenity floated lazily about the stars on its way to NewHall, its cargo bay full to the brim with huge rolled up strips of sod. The whole place smelled strongly of earth and freshly cut grass. No one even tried getting to other parts of the ship by way of the cargo bay, as the whole thing had turned into a muddy mess from all the watering they'd been doing for the past week. It was a long way to NewHall, but the crew had no difficulty keeping themselves busy.
"So…so we're standin' there after school, right, and I got this cigar I stole from one of the ranch hands," said a very drunk Malcolm Reynolds to his equally drunk crew as they sat around the common area. "And I thought, you know, it'd be shiny if Lynn saw me smokin' the damn thing, so…," he was cut off by a fit of his own laughter. He wiped an amused tear from his eye and started back up on the story. "So she walks by and I'm tryin' not to get sick from the smoke, but I can't, and all she sees is me coughing up a gorram lung on account of the cigar." The listeners were ceased by hysterical drunk giggles. "God, I was such a nerdy little kid."
"Doesn't seem like much changed," laughed Kaylee, who was snuggled up next to Simon. There was a lull in the conversation where the eight of them that'd decided to partake in the festivities just sat and listened to the gentle whir of Serenity's engines. Bridget poured herself another shot.
"Anyone else want one of these?" she asked.
"Hit me," said Jayne, who had sat next to her on accident. He handed her his shot glass and she filled it so full that some of the clear liquid sloshed over the edges when he picked it up. He and Bridget held up their drinks to each other before downing the contents of their glasses. Jayne groaned and sank back into his chair after the liquor settled in his belly. He looked to his right and smiled slowly at Bridget.
"What?" she asked, grinning back. She was the only one slightly confused about Jayne's sudden relaxed, good mood. Everyone else was very aware how friendly a drunk he was.
"Nah, I don't wanna say," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle.
"No, really!" Bridget insisted, giving him a playful punch in the arm. "Come on…"
"Oh, here it comes…," Mal groaned from across the room, laughing quietly to himself.
"I was just thinkin' a how…how pretty you are," said Jayne with a goofy grin.
"You were not!" Bridget cried loudly, thoroughly amused.
"I truly was," Jayne said, his speech very much slurred. "You got a powerful pretty face."
"Yer just sayin' that 'cause you're drunk," Bridget giggled.
"No I ain't! Well, actually, I prolly wouldn't be sayin' this to ya, but I'd sure as hell'd be thinkin' it," Jayne told her.
"Why aren't you this nice when you're sober?" asked Bridget faintly as she leaned in nearer to him.
"You guys need a room, or what?" Zoë chuckled. Jayne's face lit up as if inspired.
"Want to?" he asked urgently. Bridget giggled some more.
"Hell, no, Jayne!" she cried, smacking him in the arm again.
"Well why the ruttin' hell not?" he asked.
"Because. Just…just 'cause," she said with a shrug. "You don't profess your feelings to a woman when you're this drunk, 'cause then she'll think that you don't mean it."
"I just got done sayin' that I do mean in, damn it," Jayne said, getting frustrated. Everyone was havin' too much fun watching Bridget and Jayne make asses of themselves to intervene. Truth be told, most of them were trying so hard to suppress their sniggering that they could barely focus on anything else. "I'll prove it."
"How?" asked Bridget with a smug grin.
"Oh boy…," Wash chuckled into his drink.
"Jayne?" Kaylee asked slowly, a grin on her face.
"Maybe you guys should just-," Simon began to say, but he stopped when Jayne leaned over and kissed Bridget full on the mouth. "Never mind…"
Take my love, take my land
Take me where I cannot
stand
I don't care, I'm still free
You
can't take the sky from me
Take me out to the black
Tell them I ain't comin' back
Burn the land and
boil the sea
You can't take the sky from me
There's no place I can be
Since I found Serenity
But you can't take the sky from me...
Episode 16
Ship WreckBridget sat there, mildly stunned by what'd just occurred.
"Alright, maybe I believe you," she said, biting her lip.
"Whaddya say about that room?" he asked, trying to look mildly seductive and failing miserably.
"I say…that I've only known you for two weeks and I don't even know if I quite like you when you're sober," she said honestly.
"That just ain't nice," said Jayne dejectedly.
"Well you ain't nice, most of the time," Bridget pointed out.
"So yer…yer not gonna even give me a chance? To be nice?" he asked.
"How 'bout this: if you can spend a whole week at least trying to be nice to Simon, I'll seriously consider it," she said. At this point, the room exploded with drunken giggles.
"I'd like to see that!" Wash laughed. "Jayne be nice to Simon…"
"Don't think I can do it?" Jayne growled.
"No, Jayne, I really don't," Wash assured him.
"Well nice ain't everything," Jayne said. "Nice don't bring home money. Nice don't keep other guys 'way from yer girl. Nice don't get things done."
"Well, I like nice. I like guys who're nice, and faithful and loyal and trustworthy," said Bridget.
"I'm all those things, 'cept fer nice," Jayne said.
"Oh, I'm sure you could keep your hands off all those bar whores we come across just to be with Bridget," Zoë scoffed. Had Bridget been a little more sober, she might have taken offence.
"I wouldn't need no whores if I had me a relationship," Jayne growled defensively.
"Bridget, lemme tell you a little something about Jayne, here," Mal said, grinning like a bastard, his eyes glazed over. "You don't want him 'cause he'll cheat and lie and sell you out."
"That ain't true! I won't, I swear it!" Jayne said, getting down on both knees in front of Bridget. He took her delicate fingers in his enormous hands and looked up into her eyes. "I won't cheat you or lie or sell you out."
"He cheated and lied and sold me out more'n once," Mal warned her.
"This is different, though!" Jayne barked at the Captain.
"No it ain't, Jayne," Mal told him. Bridget was having a hard time making a good decision. In fact, she felt like she was havin' a hard time even staying conscious.
"Um…," she groaned. "I don't feel so good, maybe I shouldn't be makin' any choices right now…" As suddenly as the conversation started, it ended abruptly with Bridget passing out and flopping forward into Jayne, who was still on bended knee in front of her.
"Gorramit, Mal!" Jayne said loudly. "I was this close!"
"I might be drunk off my ass, but I sure as hell won't let you take advantage of that little girl," said Mal sternly.
"She ain't so little," Jayne said. "Twenty-three's not so little."
"Lot littler than you," Zoë reminded him.
"How's about you get her to bed, Mr. Romance?" Mal suggested. "No funny stuff." Jayne got shakily to his feet, carrying Bridget in his arms.
"Damn, she weighs near to nothin'," he muttered to himself as he carried her down the hall to her bunk. He slid the door open with an elbow and made sure he didn't bump her head or her feet on the threshold. He set her down on her bed and took off her combat boots for her before throwing the sheet over her. He looked down at her almost sadly.
"I wouldn't never cheat or lie or sell you out," he said. "Promise."
The next morning, Bridget woke up with the worst hangover of her life. She didn't want to move for fear of becoming nauseous. Her head pounded when she remembered the night before. The tail end of it sort of faded into oblivion, though.
"Must've passed out," she groaned to herself. She cradled her head in her hands. "Ugh, my head…"
"Knock, knock," she heard Simon's voice call from outside. "You awake?"
"Kinda," she answered. She looked up at the little digital clock she'd gotten on Athens along with a new pair of cargo pants, a black, ruffley skirt and a gray tank top. The numbers were fuzzy at first, but she squinted and discovered that it was 2:00 in the afternoon. "Shit," she groaned. "Come in, if you wanna." Simon slid open the door.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Hung over and disgusting," she answered. "I really, really hope I don't throw up…how the hell did I get to bed, anyway? I don't remember."
"Jayne," said Simon. "Do you remember any of last night at all?"
"Er…," muttered Bridget, trying to recall what happened. Then it hit her like a ton of bricks and her head pounded even more. "Oh, no," she said. "He kissed me, didn't he?"
"He sure did," Simon said with a smile. "The two of you are the friendliest drunks I've ever seen."
"Zao gao," Bridget cursed. "We didn't…you know…he didn't…"
"No," Simon told her firmly. "Nothing like that."
"Thank God," she said, throwing the sheets over her head.
"He pretty much professed his undying love to you, though," he said with amusement in his voice.
"Was he serious?" asked Bridget, peeking out from the covers.
"It's kinda hard to say. Jayne gets like that when he's drunk," Simon answered. "Kinda happy and touchy-feely. He seemed really upset when you didn't show the same enthusiasm."
"Well, I don't really…I mean, he's just not really what I'm looking for. Doesn't meet my standards," Bridget said.
"Not nice enough?" asked Simon with a little smirk. Bridget smiled and shook her head a little.
"Yeah, that's it," she muttered. "Say, doc, you got anything for a ragin' headache?"
"Sure do. I'll be right back," he said. Bridget sat up slowly in her bed and felt slightly motion sick.
"I hate this," she seethed. "Never ever again." A second later, she heard the sounds of heavy boots getting closer outside her open door. Simon didn't wear boots.
"Afternoon, Miss Bridget," said a very chipper Captain Malcolm Reynolds as he strode into her room.
"Please not so loud, Captain, my skull feels like it's gonna explode," Bridget moaned.
"Well, at least you're awake. We sorta feared alcohol poisoning last night, but Simon came in and checked on you. Said you weren't quite that far gone," he said coming and sitting down on the bed next to her. "So what've we learned from this happy little experience?"
"That I can't hold my liquor," Bridget answered.
"Exactly," Mal said with a nod. "I do believe you drank my mercenary under the table, and he's about two hundred pounds heavier."
"About your mercenary…," Bridget said slowly. "Was he serious last night?"
"You want the truth?" he asked. "'Cause I could lie. It'd probably make you happier."
"No, I want the truth," Bridget chuckled. Mal heaved a sigh.
"See, the thing with Jayne is he's got all sorts of mixed up emotions and things goin' on in his little skull," he explained. "He don't talk about 'em much 'less he's truly messed up over 'em. That is, 'till he's good and drunk. Then he'll tell you all manner of things he's feelin'. So long story short, I'd say yes. He was serious."
"Uh huh…," Bridget said, feeling no better, if not worse than she did before. "Is he really the bad guy you made him out to be last night?"
"Well, sort of," Mal said with a scoff. "He's loyal most times, but whenever things like money or sex come into the picture, Jayne sorta gets confused. Makes bad decisions."
"I see…: Bridget said, feeling almost downtrodden. It'd been a long time since anyone had shown any genuine interest in her.
"It's doubtful that anyone can snap him outta that," Mal told her. "I don't wanna see you hurt, Miss Bridget, you've grown on me in these two weeks."
"I won't do nothin' stupid," she promised.
"Good," said the Captain with a smile. At that moment, Simon came back with two white pills and a glass of water.
"Sorry it took so long," he said, handing over the gathered items. Bridget stuffed the pills in her mouth and gulped down almost the whole glass of water.
"So about that breakfast that you failed to make us this morning…," Mal started to say.
"Oh, you got to be joking!" moaned the hungover cook. Mal smiled.
"You know I am. Fact, I think I'll make you something to eat for a change," he said. "Look like you could use something in your belly."
"I wouldn't say no," Bridget admitted. Simon and Mal both left Bridget to her own devices. Not finding much of a reason to stay awake, she rolled over and fell back to sleep.
"Thank you so much," said the rancher as the crew slowly unloaded acres of sod from the cargo bay almost a week later. "If this stuff takes, I can get a few cows and maybe some horses."
"Wish you the best of luck with that," Mal said with a professional nod.
"And Trace paid you, right?" asked the rancher.
"Yes sir, he certainly did," Mal replied. As Jayne and Zoe passed by them, hauling a heavy roll of sod. Both of them were dirty as hell. "No need to worry about that." It took near an hour with everyone's help, save Inara's, to get the grass unloaded. By the time the last roll was removed, they were covered from head to toe in dirt and mud. So was the cargo bay. It took hours to scrub it out, and by the time they were done, they were all dead tired and their bodies ached somethin' fierce.
"Thank you for your trouble," said the prospective rancher.
"Weren't nothin'," Zoë said with a sigh.
"I'm a little ashamed to say that I haven't got the money to pay for your labor," he said sheepishly.
"Well that's too bad…," Jayne started to say.
"What my friend, here, means is we were happy to help. There's no need to pay us," Mal said. The crew bid farewell to the rancher and they all marched back up the ramp into the cargo bay, which was as clean as it was going to get.
"I don't get how come we didn't ask for no money from that guy," growled Jayne.
"Because he was poor and didn't have any, Jayne," Mal said irritably. "Why can't you put folks before yourself sometimes?"
"'Cause I don't like bustin' my ass all day long without getting paid for it," Jayne shot back.
"Notice how no one else seems to mind but you," Mal pointed out. "Money ain't everything."
"Well it's somethin', that's for damn sure," Jayne said stomping off to his bunk.
"Did I actually just witness a full grown man stomp off to pout?" asked Bridget, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes you did," said Mal, obviously angered by Jayne's lack of compassion.
Bridget sat in her bunk with a bowl of luke warm water and a wash rag. One thing she missed about being on solid earth is that there was really nowhere to shower. She stripped down to her undergarments and scrubbed all the dirt off her skin left over from hauling grass. Now she knew why no one else wanted to transport the sod to NewHall.
After a few minutes, Bridget realized that she was slowly nodding off. She tried to hurry up and wipe away the rest of the grime so that she could get to bed. Without warning, the door was thrown open.
"Hey, you cookin' anything tonight?" asked the voice of Jayne Cobb. Bridget let out a shriek.
"Jayne!" she cried, trying to cover her half naked body up so he couldn't see. "Get out!"
"I was just askin'," he said, obviously trying his best to enjoy the scenery.
"Get OUT!" she cried, chucking the bowl at his head. He ducked, but still got completely soaked. The bowl shattered against the wall behind him.
"No need to get hostile!" he chuckled.
"You did that on purpose!" she cried.
"Ain't no way to prove that," he said with a smirk. "I was just hungry and wanted to know if you'd be cooking tonight."
"Well I'm not!" she yelled, stomping over to the door wrapped in her bed sheet. "Knock next time, gorramit!" She slammed the door on him and heard him cackling to himself all the way down the hall. She felt her cheeks burn with humiliation. "Jerk."
Inara sat in her shuttle, getting some of her companion affairs in order. She was quite thankful to be the only one completely unaffected by the sod job. After all, she didn't really have any clothes that she could afford getting dirty. And even if she did, she didn't know if she was physically strong enough to help much.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Yes?" she asked. As usual, Mal took that as 'come in with your shoes on and throw yourself on the sofa.' "Could you be more abusive to my furniture?" she asked him irritably.
"I'm sure I could try," he said with a smile. Inara rolled her eyes.
"How can I help you?" she asked, practically through gritted teeth.
"I need your take on something that's been bothering the hell out of me for a while," he said.
"Alright," she said with a sigh. "What's the problem?"
"Jayne's the problem," Mal said. "He's taken a liking to my cook, and I'm not so comfortable with that."
"Well you can't come between them if that's what they want," Inara said with a shrug.
"I know it's what Jayne wants, but I can't be certain what Bridget wants," Mal said. He shook his head. "She such a nice kid, I don't want her caught up in all of Jayne's gou shi."
"Did it ever occur to you that Bridget's a woman, not a kid, and that she can probably take care of herself?" Inara asked.
"Well…I…," Mal stammered, getting frustrated.
"You have so little faith in women, Mal. They can be just as strong, if not stronger, than men," Inara said.
"I know that," he barked. "Look at Zoë: she's tough as nails. But Bridget, she ain't a soldier, that's my point. She's too…"
"Kind? Pretty? Caring?" Inara suggested.
"Yeah. She's too much of all those things to get let down by a ruttin' criminal like Jayne," said Mal.
"Who ever said that he'd let her down?" Inara asked.
"He's let me down. He's let my crew down. On multiple occasions," Mal reminded her. "He's taken too many women to bed to even count. If that's not a let down waiting to happen, I don't know what is."
"Well, if you don't like him that much, why don't you just kick him off?" asked Inara, getting irritated.
"It ain't that I don't like him," Mal said angrily, trying to articulate his meaning. "What I'm sayin', here, is that he's too big, too aggressive and too gorram stupid for Bridget."
"How about letting Bridget make her own decisions and mistakes?" Inara said. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think that you were starting to sound jealous."
"I'm not jealous. I'm just concerned," Mal said defensively. "Am I allowed?"
"Yes, you're allowed," Inara said with a smile. "Just relax about it. I'm sure that you're just being paranoid."
Bridget had been working her ass off all morning long over a hot stove. When she got her share of the sod job money, she headed straight to the market on the first core planet they stopped at. With it, she bought everything she needed to cook with for the next few weeks. As soon as they were back in the air, she set out on a culinary journey of epic proportions; Dim Sum.
She had only prepared Dim Sum a few times in her life, and that was with the help of several other people in a big kitchen with every utensil a cook could dream up. Going it alone was harder than she expected, but she was managing all right. By one in the afternoon, she was finished and set everything out on the table, along with a very good Chinese tea that was highly recommended. For the first time that day, she allowed people into the kitchen.
"I thought it was too good to be true, but here it is," Wash said, shaking his head. He began lifting the covers off the little circular platters. "I can't even remember the last time I had Dim Sum. Is that pork shu mai?"
"Shrimp, actually," Bridget corrected him. "Well, it ain't for starin' at." With that, everyone sat down and started dishing themselves up.
"Did you make steamed hom bow?" asked River, looking hopeful at the covered dishes.
"Oh, that one's by Shepherd," said Bridget. Book looked under a few covers before finding the right miniature platter. He passed it down the line to River. Everyone traded the dishes around and sampled the fruits of Bridget's labor.
"These pork pies are ridiculous," Mal said, clearly enjoying them. "How do you do it?"
"Magic," Bridget said through a mouthful of egg custard tart. She watched everybody eat and was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of belonging. There wasn't a person at that table who didn't like her, not a single one that didn't appreciate her work. For the first time, she was really starting to feel a part of that family that she saw when she first arrived, and she felt that maybe it was about time she told them so.
"You know, I've been doing a little thinking," she said, getting everyone's attention. "And I know I've told everyone that it might be any day that I move on…"
"Oh, no…," Wash said slowly, his face falling.
"No, Bridget!" Kaylee said. "You can't leave!" The dining room got real loud with different protests.
"Wait a sec!" she cried. Once it was quiet, she continued. "I know I've told everyone that it might be any day that I move on, but," she said, putting extra emphasis on the 'but'. "I can't see no sense in leavin' my home." The kitchen exploded with happy comments and little cheers and everywhere Bridget looked there was a smile.
"You nearly gave me a heart attack!" cried Wash. "Don't you ever do that again!"
"I won't," Bridget laughed.
"You know this means you'll never be rid of us," Book said.
"I hope never to be rid of you," she said happily.
"Plus you've gone and spoiled us on your cooking," said Zoë affectionately.
"You couldn't make me go back to that protein crap," Jayne said, looking very pleased with the news.
"This is so exciting!" Kaylee cried. "I was gonna miss you so bad if you left!"
"Well I ain't goin' anywhere, so don't worry," Bridget told her. They finished off their meal in high spirits, knowing that their cook was there to stay.
Bridget sat awake in bed that night reflecting on everything. It felt so good to lie there in a bed that she could call her own. This was her bunk. Her bed. She had nearly forgotten how nice it was to have a place that you could really call home. Now when people asked where she lived, she would answer 'I live on that boat, there. Serenity." She'd forgotten even what it was like to have real friends, too. It hadn't been a terribly long time since she'd boarded Serenity, but the crew was the closest thing she'd had to friends and family in three years.
Then she thought of something else: Jayne. Despite his coarse nature and his thug-like behavior, he was actually starting to grow on her. She didn't feel like goin' out and singin' it to the world, but there was something about him that made her smile a little. Maybe it was on account of he really seemed to care about her. And although she couldn't be totally sure if it was just a ploy to get her clothes off, she had a feeling that it wasn't. The idea of a man really having genuine interest in her, not what he could get out of her, was boggling. And somewhat attractive. But even so, she tried hard to repress whatever it was that was starting to take hold of her. After all, she'd made a promise that she wouldn't get involved with him. She promised Mal, and he was in charge. Should she ever break her promise, Bridget feared the worst: getting kicked off the boat. Everything she had gained would be lost. Her home. Her friends. Her family. It was simply out of the question.