A/N Apologies to everyone I bummed out with the last chapter. Hope this one makes you smile :) This chapter comes courtesy of a prompt from Beawolf's Pen, and they have waited a long time for it, so really hope they enjoy it. Big thank-you to my aweeeeesome regular reviewers. Feel very lucky to have you, and extra shout-out to the guest reviewer I couldn't reply to called "Person" - your review cracked me up! And galvanised me to stay up until stupid o'clock to post this chapter. Hope you all enjoy!

Troublemaker

Jayne Cobb snarled to himself as he backhanded the young man into the wall.

The unfortunate officer's head slammed against the reinforced material - none of that cheap gǒu shǐ for the Alliance - and he slumped down with a glazed expression. Ordinarily, this wouldn't lead to Jayne grimacing; ordinarily, a little violence was sure to put a smile on his face.

Sexin', violence and drinkin'. As far as he was concerned, these were the best things the 'Verse had to offer. The order sometimes switched, but the particulars didn't.

Right now, though, Jayne was a mite too pissed to enjoy it.

He kept up a steady stream of angry muttering:

"Ruttin', gorram, no good ma fan! I tole the Captain! I told 'im from the start they'd be trouble! But did he listen to me? Noooo! No one listens to Jayne Cobb until it's too ruttin' late!"

Jayne patted down the prone body, searching for a sidearm. To his disgust, he didn't find one. He pulled back and viciously kicked the man in the ribs. "What kinda pansy-ass officer don't carry a weapon!" he roared, before switching to a whiny, high-pitched tone: "No, Jayne! It's a government compound. They've got high-tech scanners that will pick up on any weapon - we hafta go in unarmed! Am I or am I not Captain of this boat?"

The clerk sneaking up behind him with paperweight raised paused with a confused expression on his face. Jayne snapped back a fist without looking; blood spurted. The sound of the paperweight - and the man - hitting the floor drew his interest for a moment.

He retrieved the spherical object, hefting its weight in his hand with a thoughtful expression, then raised his eyebrows as an idea occurred to him. Stalking over to the desk at the back of the room, he rooted amongst its contents before finding something that satisfied his requirements - an oddly-shaped blade made of pewter.

He straightened back up with his prize, testing the letter opener's edge against his thumb. He grunted. Barely sharp enough to cut through piss. Still, a blade was a blade, and its pointed end could do some damage.

Retracing his steps, he casually trod on the back of the dazed clerk who had been attempting to crawl away. Hauling him to his feet, he pressed the point against the big artery in his neck and spoke in a conversational tone:

"I am not having the shiniest day. The next few minutes of your life will depend entirely on how helpful you are in answerin' my questions: tell me what I need, and I'll let you go; come up short and we'll see what colour your ink is. Dong ma?"

"W-w-wǒ dǒng," the man stammered.

"Where is the Moonbrain?"

"Wha-? Where is the what?"

Unseen behind him, Jayne rolled his eyes. "The crazy girl - the teenager. They'd have brought her in earlier today. Most likely sedated. Where is she?"

"I-I don't-"

Jayne dug the end in a little and the man squealed. "Hospital wing - second floor! If she was sedated, they most likely took her there!"

Jayne removed his hand from the man's neck and spun him round to face him. Drawing back, he surged forward and cracked his forehead against the edge of his eye socket, then addressed the comatose figure on the ground:

"Thank you. You've been very helpful."

A few minutes and several swearwords later, he was dragging the two bodies into a utility closet.

It had only taken around three minutes of bein' in the building 'fore Mal's plan had gone to gǒu shǐ. Only surprisin' thing was that it had taken that long.

The crew had agreed their best shot of gettin' Moonbrain back was for Mal, Zoë and Jayne to go in alone, that they were less likely to attract attention that way. (The Doc had tried to disagree, to insist on his right to come along - till Jayne knocked him out. Mal had glared at him: "You better ruttin' hope none of us get shot 'fore he wakes up!".)

The building was Alliance-run, but an administration office, and therefore low on military supplies or guards. Hit hard and quick enough and they should get in and out with their girl without bein' caught.

'Course that was before someone recognised Mal, yelled about dishonest smugglers, and Mal hauled off and started hittin'. Zoë of course threw herself into the fracas after him. Jayne had almost joined in but a look from Mal checked him, and he realised this was exactly the distraction they were looking for. So Jayne had slipped away to be a Big Damn Hero on his own.

He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction that out of all of 'em he was the one to save the day, but his good mood didn't last long, borne down by the weight of the zhuǎng clerk he was currently dragging by sweaty armpits, and the black anger that had been simmering ever since River had been snatched.

S'posed to be a ruttin' genius and managed to get herself caught - again! Seemed like all they ever did these days was rescue the crazy girl. Okay, fine, there was the time she saved all their lives on Miranda, but considerin' she was the greatest weapon in the gorram 'Verse, she got into trouble far too much. And Jayne Cobb was sick of havin' to drag her out of it.

And to cap it all, she was in the hospital wing! Which meant she'd go totally diān dǎo when she woke up. Cursing to himself, he shoved hard on the door that was struggling to hold the bodies. After a few more batterings against annoyingly hard heads, he managed to close it.

Pocketing the letter opener, he went looking for the stairs. There was a fancy-pants elevator in the reception area, but bad idea to go back that way. One handy thing 'bout Alliance buildings, though, was their powerful need to label everything. Made it much easier to track the hospital down.

Jayne had checked several rooms in the hospital wing but come up empty. He slowed to a halt when he heard voices coming from an open door...

The first voice sounded uncertain: "But, Sir, orders were to keep her under till the ship arrived for transport... We need to re-administer the sedative."

The second voice was impatient, almost feverish in its excitement: "I don't think you realise quite what a prize we have here - how fortunate we are to have had this fall into our laps! I'm not going to do anything permanent to her, but I'm not going to let such an opportunity slip through my fingers. Now - ready the cerebral needle!"

Jayne had heard enough. He burst into the room and growled when he saw the needle they had set up to jab into her skull.

River was strapped down to a gurney; she looked tiny. And broken. Two figures in white coats were bending over her.

The simmering anger blazed into all-consuming rage.

An outraged look crossed the smug features of the older doctor. "You can't be in here! Where is security? Guards! Guar-" The man cut off suddenly, choking. Receiving a letter opener at high speed through the throat will do that to a person.

Jayne didn't waste time on the dead; before the first doctor had hit the floor he had launched the second one head first at the wall.

Moving quickly, Jayne sprung the releases on the restraints and leant over the gurney. He shook River, trying to rouse her. "Come on, Moonbrain, wake up. We gotta get out of here. Wake up!"

He knew it would be next to no effort to pick her up - skinny girl weighed less than half what he bench pressed most days - but they would be more conspicuous if he carried her. Besides... he needed her to open her eyes. To prove those hún dàn hadn't scrambled her brainpan even worse than before.

He shook her again, harder.

River's eyelids fluttered. Jayne tensed slightly in case she wasn't herself and struck out at him... or in case she was herself and struck out at him.

The large brown eyes slowly focused, then locked onto his face. He spoke quickly: "It's me. Don't get excited - I'm here to take you back to Serenity."

Suddenly, shockingly, she smiled at him. Not a fēng le smile, not an edged one. She smiled like purest starlight, peaceful and beautiful.

And it was directed right at him.

"There is no blue this time."

Jayne blinked, still a little dazzled, and not unusually for him around River, uncomprehending.

"Wha-?"

"No hands of blue; no coppers exchanged. Just rage. Just Jayne."

Now Jayne got it... and sorta wished he hadn't. He wasn't much with recalling fault, but Ariel hadn't been one of his shiniest moments... and he had been steadily resisting the similarities.

Realising he was still leaning over her, he went to move back.

River's expression turned sorrowful; her hands shot up to cradle his head, anchoring him in place.

"I am a priest," she murmured. "The red has washed away the sin. I offer absolution." And she pulled herself upwards, lips meeting his.

Jayne's eyes shot wide in surprise. He pulled away, but River held on like a monkey, lean arms locked around his neck. Her slim curves were pressed to his body; her heavy curtain of hair fell around them like a veil. She smelled of roses...

Jayne's eyes began to droop closed. He found himself leaning in...

All thoughts of the Alliance, the danger, the need to find the others fell away. The world had shrunk to the soft petal lips pressed to his and the feelings they roused in him.

Long-forgotten feelings from long-forgotten days... Memories of simple pleasures and peaceful joy...

His arms wound round her, lifting her against him; he tilted his head, seeking more contact... Seeking more of her...

Then jerked like he'd been shot when the enraged voice of the Captain came from the doorway:

"Where's a ruttin', gorram gun when you need one!"

fin

Glossary:

Diān dǎo - confused, deranged, crazy

Dong ma? - do you understand?

Gǒu shǐ - s**t

Fēng le - loopy in the head

Hún dàn - bastard

Ma fan - trouble, complication, problem

Wǒ dǒng - I understand

Zhuǎng - fat