The cat and the mercenary
Jayne would never admit it, but he loved pets. Growing up, they had a cat that would come up on the porch for milk and scraps. He'd sit out with it while he practiced putting his wooden peashooter back together like a real gun. That cat was a sweet, old thing, and he felt awful when it stopped visiting.
May reminded him of the feline, but, of course, no one other than River knew. If people were around, he'd fuss at May, making a ruckus over his "personal space." If they weren't, he'd pat her on the head and talk quiet-like with her. Sometimes, he'd let her hang around while he cleaned all his guns as long as she didn't paw too much.
It was late one evening. He'd spent his cut on fancy grain alcohol sent in from the Core, and he intended on enjoying it until he passed out. Mal was on the bridge, River sat on the couch next to the kitchen, Jayne was halfway to hammered at the table, May sat in front of him, and everyone else was in their bunks.
"I…I…you…" he slurred, pointing at May, "…you reminds me of a kitty I knowed and I…I love you…"
River giggled, turning a page in the book she was reading. He glanced at her and said, although he'd already made this comment five and a half times—he didn't finish the second time—"When you get here, moonbrain?"
"Been here," she chimed, again.
He nodded and downed the rest of the drink, setting the glass in front of the cat. She started batting at it until it came crashing to the floor. Jayne laughed and River shook her head, quietly chiding, "May, no."
Mal heard the noise and came running, hand hovering over his holster. Jayne was still laughing and River giggled at his stupidity.
"What in ruttin' hell?" Mal asked.
Jayne either didn't hear or purposely ignored him. He put his hands on May, looked in her River-like eyes, and declared, "I love ya, you pretty kitty you." Then, he hugged her close and River's giggling became a howling laughter.
"Hey, not so hard!" Mal demanded. "You're gonna hurt the cat."
After a grunt, Jayne let go. May mewed, so River collected her and patted the mercenary on the shoulder. "Sleep it off, girly man."
"I love ya, crazy witch, I love ya," he proclaimed, patting her hand back.
Mal's eyes narrowed and he promptly demanded he clean up the broken glass before River or the cat stepped in it. She found this particularly funny since he didn't like the cat—supposedly—and Jayne could hardly stand. In any case, Mal was the one that wound up having to clean the mess. River and the cat went to sleep, and Jayne blacked out after telling May he loved her once more. Unfortunately, after his outburst, Jayne's new nickname was Mr. Whiskers for his love of cats.