A/N: I own nothing. Well, you asked, and for once, the crackbunnies responded, with their ever-twisted logic. My thanks for the recommendation to the "Jayne's Crazy" C2, though I sometimes wonder about this fic's qualifications. Eh, if I can still refer to myself as a M/I shipper after considering Mal/Book (though I haven't yet worked anything in) I guess this counts...

"Jayne!" A voice came roaring from the catwalk, followed shortly after by its irate owner. "Zoe, have you seen my mercenary or my pilot? They were supposed to be back three hours ago."

"You did give them shore leave all day, sir," the first mate said calmly.

"Yeah, but Badger's gettin' anxious an' I want somebody I trust with a gun at my back when I go see him." Mal appeared to reconsider this statement in light of the two missing persons. "Well, somebody whose mental issues I'm familiar with, anyway," he revised with a quick shrug.

"I'll go," Zoe volunteered.

Malcolm Reynolds paused, concern and gratefulness flickering over his open features. He did try, when he needed to, but Mal had never developed a decent poker face. Not where the women of his ship were concerned, at any rate. "I'd rather take Jayne, or River, if I have to," Mal started slowly, scratching his head. "Ain't that I don't trust you to take care, Zoe, but I don't want to make it more complicated 'n necessary."

"I'm havin' a baby; I'm not dying, Mal." Zoe's arms were crossed firmly in front of her chest. "And I'm not doing either today."

Her captain looked away. "Better gorram well hope not. We just cleaned all the bloodstains off this floor." Mal walked towards the open hatch, and Zoe fell into step just behind him. "But by month seven, you are staying away from extra trouble, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." They both quietly ignored the fact that he had said the same about the fifth month. "Thanks," she whispered as she walked out the hatchway, her eyes staring at nothing in particular in the cargo storage.

"Dunno why you're thanking me; Badger ain't no treat to be around, as far as I'm concerned," Mal said, glancing back. His first mate just gave a tight-lipped smile and followed after him, nodding as the captain explained the plan on their way out.

"We clear now, Crazy?" a rougher voice inquired from the smuggler's hold. "I hate bein' all squeezed up like this…"

Girlish laughter emantated from a nearby footlocker stacked some four or five levels off the ground. The lid jiggled, and large brown eyes peeked through the resultant gap. "The coast is crystal."

Emerging from their boltholes, Jayne and River stretched and smoothed their rumpled clothing. As soon as the big mercenary's complaints died down to a few muttered curses, the girl leaped at him and threw her arms about his neck. "Ape Man was amazing," she said, kissing his left temple.

Very carefully, Jayne extracted himself from the young mind reader's grip. "Get off," he rumbled with ill-concealed affection, placing his hand on her head and holding her at arm's length. "I'm in enough trouble as it is."

"Fire burn and cauldron bubble," River agreed, breaking free of his grip. "I can hardly wait to tell Kaylee."

"Oh, no. You tell her and then it'll get to Simon and the captain, and they won't bother with a cauldron or nothin'." Jayne checked uneasily behind him to see if Mal had mysteriously reappeared just beyond the hatch.

They had not, but Serenity's new pilot was on the verge of disappearing, headed for the engine room. "River!" Jayne ran after her. "River, wait, gorramit!" The only answer was another giggle.

The mercenary edged to the doorway, praying that Kaylee was off somewhere with Simon and not someplace in which she'd be in a position to gossip about him with River.

Jayne had arrived at Kaylee's closed door just barely into the conversation, but he knew he was already much, much too late. "He took me to the bar. Said someone has to teach me how to live it up on the Rim."

Jayne groaned as a second, lighter, feminine voice joined in. "He did, did he? Is our Jayne getting romantic? It wouldn't be a bad match, you know…" Kaylee sounded entirely too hopeful about this possible turn of events for the big merc's liking.

"If going out for alcoholic beverages and sexual relations counts as romantic, I suppose so." River was at least very matter-of-fact about the whole thing, with no extra drama. Jayne wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not.

The mechanic squealed with delight. "Wo de mah! You two… Already? Took me ten months and two gunshot wounds to lead Simon up to it."

"They had boy-whores." The mercenary could practically hear the satisfied smile in River's voice, and he didn't even want to attempt to picture Kaylee's expression. It was too close in his mind to what he imagined the last look he saw on Mal and Simon's faces would be. That was, if they gave Jayne enough time to make a running start of it before they began firing.

Jayne banged his head against the doorframe once more. Another really gorram brilliant plan accomplished by yours truly, he chided himself. He should have known better than to try to work with River. Jayne hadn't really thought through all the potential consquences to begin with, and Crazy threw a spanner in the works every time. At least maybe she wouldn't come creeping into his room in the middle of the night, now. At least she'd probably leave her clothes on when she eventually did come in and steal all his weapons and kill him in his sleep. He hoped.

Didn't he?

River laughed again, and after a muted comment or gesture, so did Kaylee. Despite the whiskeys he had shot eariler in the day at the bar, Jayne suddenly very badly wanted a drink.