A/N: Written for LJ's zodiacfanfic challenge.
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss Whedon; will put back later.

Taurus
The Bull, earth. Keywords: Persistent, greedy.

Pacing's not such a fun activity, and he can think of more, better things to do, but somethin's gotta be done about this sorry ass situation a'fore it gets outta control. Probably already has, given last night and, bein' that Jayne can't solve this in his usual fashion, with bullets and whatnot, he'll just have to take care of it in the best way that presents itself. He cocks a hip out, leaning against the door to the infirmary… not a sight o' that gorram boy anywhere.

He huffs and ambles in, past all the painfully neatly arranged medical supplies and the doctor's other such knick-knackery… so gorram organized in all these little gorram piles. What in the hell is wrong with that boy? Snorting, Jayne runs the back of his hand down one of the smooth, metal surfaces, this one to a case of bandages or some shit. Doesn't know why he's bein' delicate with it, seein' as it can't feel nothin' and probably wouldn't deserve his gentleness, even if it could. Good thing it can't. Bein' somethin' of the doctor's, Jayne's pretty damn sure he'd not be too gentle with it if it could feel…

Without so much as a thought to the contrary, he smacks the thing and sends it flying into the floor. He knocks over a bunch of straight, well kept, apple-pie order scalpels and knives. Never really understood why them doctors use the things – precise, sure, but, too effective to not have force behind them, and doctors never have it.

He hits another thing, doesn't care what it is, all that matters is the right terrified sound of footfalls rushin' to the infirmary like some scared kid or somesuch.

"Oh my…"

Win. Jayne's win.

"What are you doing?"
"Zoe sent me up here, t'look for somethin'."
"Didn't we go over this the last time you tried to tear apart my infirmary?"

Lies roll off to the doctor like easiness. And he clearly doesn't believe 'em, he shouldn't anyway, but it doesn't matter as Jayne turns to look at him – …no, not nearly riled up 'nuff yet. Little bit messed up, few hairs outta place and not lookin' so high-tone and fine-done like usual, but ain't nothin' can't be fixed.

"Excuse me? Are you even paying attention to me, or am I just in the way of your systematic destruction of everything orderly? …Why do I even bother? You're not listening, you never…"

The boy fumes as he rushes in to clean up the mess; Jayne grabs him by the collar and whips him around. Want. Take. Have. Simple philosophy, one a little too basic, even for him, but the doctor makes that little bit of Jayne come out.

"You'd be that somethin'."
"What did… I just saw Zoe-"
"Boy, you are a ruttin' bad liar, so I'd say you'd best cut that out."
"Then you… if you wanted to see me, you didn't need an excuse…"
"Fer this, I think I did."
"What?"

What can he say? He ain't nothin' if not persistent, and he marks his territory with his lips.