Please to remember that I in no way am compensated for this terribly hard labor, nor do I own nor make any claim of ownership of Firefly in any way shape or form. I intend no copyright infringement of any kind and it's completely okay not to sue me.

Un-beta. Unbetaed? Not betaed. Anyway, mistakes are free! :)

FIREFLY

Chapter Twenty Two

Elaine Bosch wandered to the small cargo hold of Fury, more to stretch her legs than anything else. She loved her ship, but it could grow very small on long trips such as this.

She had already entered the bay before she noted her passenger sitting on a small bench, working with a whetstone. He was shirtless, obviously having been using the weights before he'd started on the knife. She caught a breath as she noted the multitude of scars tracing his torso.

There wasn't much doubt now who Jayne Cobb was. Any that remained evaporated as her eyes fell to the knife in his hands.

"You need me to go?" Cobb asked without looking up.

"No," she replied much more calmly than she felt, which didn't take much. "That knife looks like it's seen a lot of use," she noted, walking very slowly his way.

"Has," he nodded, still not looking up.

"It's an interesting blade," she noted as casually as she possibly could. The knife had started with a basic Bowie shape but the smith that had crafted the knife had left that basic design far behind before he was finished.

She estimated the blade at eleven-and-a-half inches, The clip point was edged but the back-strap of the blade itself was hammed flat, easily the width of a coin or more. Slight grooves were cut into that strap, designed to trap an enemy blade inside it. It was an item of only limited value on a blade and only a truly experienced or well taught wielder would have such a knife.

Especially one like that one.

"See something familiar, Ne'esa?" Cobb asked gently, still never looking up from where he slowly ran the tiny stone down one side of the blade and then the other, his movements as methodical as if timed by a metronome. Suddenly it dawned on her what he has said.

"Que ist?" she answered before she thought and suddenly he was looking at her, eyes narrowed.

"I asked, sister, if you saw something familiar to you," he repeated and she noted the slight edge in his voice. Very slight.

"Where did you get that?" she asked carefully, ignoring the honorific.

"You know where I got it, ha'mut," he spoke in the guttural tongue of their home world before switching to English again. "I'd hazard you have one of your own, or did."

"I do," she nodded slightly. "You can't be. . .," she shook her head. She'd had her suspicions, but suddenly seeing them proved real made it seem. . .unreal. Wrong.

"Indeed I am," Jayne stood slowly and she couldn't help but watch him unfold, drawn to his stance, his face.

"You. . .you look like your father," Bosch stammered slightly. "Taller," she added. "Heavier, but with muscle where he was hatnai. . .whipcord," she amended.

"I would not know," Jayne spoke in Yaquay. He assumed he might as well get used to using it now.

"I don't speak that language often," Elaine admitted. "I. . .I knew that your were familiar, but I never imagined-"

"Never?" Jayne's voice was mocking. "Not even once?"

"No," she admitted. "Not until two nights ago when you said you had no family left on Tokala."

"Nor do I," Jayne nodded.

"You know that is untrue, Samai," she spoke in their native tongue without thought. "There remain many of the Blood married into other clans." She could tell by the look on his face this was not something he had considered until recently.

"You are not the first to mention that," he admitted with a nod. "I. . .I did not think, at the time. Nor did I after. There was only Blood."

"I know," she nodded. "I grieve the loss of your halam'a be u still," she reverted again to their mishmash native language. "Empee halla'i, mi ako de sangre," she added. Her friend. Her blood-sister.

"Na'ie," Jayne nodded his acceptance. "Are you of The Blood?" he asked her.

"No," she shook her head. "I am of Los Sierra Manos." People of the Mountains. Men of the Mountains.

"You are far from there," Jayne said calmly.

"Nor did I plan to return," she admitted. "Had I known who you were. . ." she faltered then, afraid of his reaction.

"I understand," he nodded, his voice not unkind. "I kinda have that effect on people," he added in English with a wry smile. "Assume you'll still drop me off, though?"

"I could do no less for your mother," Elaine nodded shakily. "Is it true?" she hated herself for asking as soon as it left her lips, but it was done by then.

"Yes," Jayne nodded simply. "All of it," he added when she seemed about to ask more. "All of them."

"There are whispers of you far and wide," Elaine told him, slightly easier now. "Sangre de Manos, Cuchillo deMuerto, Cuhillo Sangre, others."

"I'm sure," Jayne shrugged, resuming his seat and his work. "I care not. There are few opinions that matter to me, nee'sa." His voice was flat and Elaine had to fight the shiver that cold voice sent through her bones. Yesu Cristo prote mio mi, she thought. Jesus Christ, protect me please.

"Why do you fear me?" Jayne asked softly. "I've done you no wrong, no harm. There is no reason to fear me."

"I do not," Elaine lied through her teeth.

"I can smell it, nee'sa," Jayne semi-chuckled. "It is needless. You have nothing to fear from me. Mi amu'o por tonatha." My hunt is for another. "O'ow penda'oha, mueto cabrita. Mi yoém-ia-k, anso mi esposa." A man who kills girls. My child. And my wife.

"Again?" Elaine couldn't help but gasp. Had he lost another family?

"Ni'en," Jayne shook his head. "He failed. He will not get another chance."

Flat. Cold. Final. Nothing she didn't expect from a man feared among his own people as much as he was anyone else.

"I asked why you fear me," he said again, almost as if reading her mind.

"I. . .there are many whispers of you, Mano'de'Sangre," she told him. "And they are not kind. Nor are they sympathetic."

"I seek no sympathy nor pity," Jayne shrugged easily. "And I am a man of blood, right enough I suppose. That wasn't. . .it was a choice made for me, Captain. Long ago."

"Many think you an enemy of your own people," she told him. "That your revenge includes those who did not help your clan."

"Lies," Jayne shrugged. "There was no help for my clan. And all who were there are dead, along with many others like them. Most with this," he held up the blade for her to see again. She could see faint marks on the stag horn handle. Many, many marks. She knew what they meant.

"Your father's work," she noted, nodding.

"Yes," Jayne nodded. "Might have been his, or maybe it was going to be mine," Jayne shrugged, returning to his work. "I'll never know. I found it in the ashes of my home, after I buried my people."

"I am so sorry," Elaine said sincerely. "Had I still been there, I would have helped you."

"Others offered help," Jayne shrugged. "I did it myself. A last gift to my people before I left to hunt. I never planned to return, but life makes its own plans, sometimes."

"Doesn't it though," Elaine nodded. She started forward but caught herself after a step.

"I won't bite," Jayne again semi-chuckled. Chagrined, she continued and took a seat next to him.

"Let me guess," Jayne mused. "Parents scare their children with tales of the Man of Blood, or some silly shit like that. Right?"

"Not children," Elaine shook her head. "Others. Adults who are. . .dishonorable. It is said that the harshest curse now is "I hope you meet the Man of Blood."

"How 'bout that," Jayne smiled slightly. "I'm famous."

"You may look like your father, but that grin, that mischievousness, that's all your mother," Elaine chuckled.

"How is it you came to be a blood-sister to a delichí'é shidáá ?" White-eye.

"I never cared where she came from," Elaine waved that away. "I met her before your father did. She came to the Mountain Clan before she ventured to your lands. We remained friends until I left."

"Why did you leave?" he asked without looking, or he would have seen the shadow pass over her.

"Bad times, Ta'ata," she returned the honorific this time without thought. "Death, this," she pointed to her scar, "and angry people who felt things should have been different. But it has not been bad," she continued. "My life is better than it would have been at home."

Home. The word hung between them for a time, neither speaking. It wasn't home to either of them anymore. Never would be again. It was just where they had started.

"Same here," Jayne nodded finally. "Wasn't for all this, I'd not have thought of it. Hadn't in years, more'n a bit," he admitted.

"What takes you there, then?" she asked, breaking her cardinal rule again for this man whose mother had been as close as blood to her.

"Man named Flint wants something o' mine," Jayne told her casually. "He can't have it. Didn't take rejection well, so I'ma take it to him where he lives."

"George Flint?" Elaine frowned. "Two Bears? That Flint?"

"Same."

"He's a snake I hear," Elaine spoke much easier now that she was almost sure that the stories of this man were embellished, at least insofar as his supposed hate for his own people. She saw nothing of that. What she saw was the same thing she felt. Indifference.

"That's an insult to a snake," Jayne told her flatly. "Won't matter for long, anyway," he added.

"I see," Elaine said evenly. "Well, he should have known better."

"Yes, he should," was the simple reply.

"Your mother's voice would go all flat like that when she was angry," Elaine observed.

"I'm not angry," Jayne shrugged. "I was, but no more. Now I'm just. . .me," he shrugged again. "There's another name for me," he added, looking at her carefully.

"Browncoat?"

"Not exactly, but close enough," she admitted. "I ran supplies, spec ops teams, stuff like that. Just for the money, mind you," she added. "I'm not exactly a mercenary, but there's no one to look after me but me. You know?" She could have slapped herself for that but again it was out before she thought.

"Well I do," he nodded. "Browncoats called me Shade," he said evenly.

She had just thought she knew how bad it was. Yesu, she had never connected Mano'de'd'Sangre to Shade the Assassin.

"I had no idea," she shook her head.

"I am no theat to you unless you make it so," Jayne said easily. "All I need is a ride."

"I take your money, I do your job," she shot back without thinking. "I do a job, I get paid, I move on. I already took your coin so I'll do the job. Period-why are you laughing?" she demanded.

"You sound just like the man I've been working for last few years," he told her, smiling. "That's always been his motto; 'we do a job, we get paid'. Just like that. I had no idea he had a twin sister."

"Well, runnin' a ship cost money," Elaine was almost defensive. "Got crew to pay and feed, gotta buy fuel, parts and the like. And I need a little something for the effort, too," she added.

"I know," Jayne nodded. "I've been running one of his ships for a while now. Never had any idea how hard on him it was until I had to do it myself. And I always had him to fall back on if something was wrong and good crew to depend on. He didn't always have that, including me," he added with a sigh. "I treated him bad in a lot of ways," Jayne admitted. "Never thought on it really, I was just always mad and. . .well, we didn't meet under the best circumstances. He figured I'd sell him out eventually, and ass that I was I never let him think otherwise." He set the knife aside, the stone beside it.

"I got no real excuse for it, either." He didn't know why he was talking to this woman. Maybe because she knew his mother. "I just. . .I just did," he held his hands up in a gesture of helplessness.

"We all do things we regret, mi'a'ko," Elaine shrugged. She'd basically called him 'nephew', though the actual translation would not have said that. "We all do what seems good at the moment, only sometimes we act without thinking about consequences. Are you doing that now?" she eyed him carefully.

"No," he shook his head. "For once, I'm not. This has to be done a certain way, and I've got it worked out. Hopefully I can go back and slide back into the life I built for myself. If things go the way I plan anyway. But this ends for good, one way or another. What I'm doing I'm doing to protect the family I have now. To keep them out of harms way. And to kill the man who tried to kill my wife and damn near did kill my daughter."

"Avoiding the Feud then," Elaine nodded. "So what is it you're looking for?"

"Peace. True peace. The kind you have when all your enemies are dead."

FIREFLY

"Kaylee are you sure you're comfortable?" Simon asked again.

"Simon, I'm so fat I can't but waddle anywhere and I have to roll onto my side and scoot just to get outta tha bed," Kaylee shot back. "Of course I'm not comfortable, ya twit!"

"What can I do?" Simon asked worriedly.

"You can stop askin' me am I comfortable for starters!" Kaylee shot back. "Askin' me tha same thing over'n over just irritates me and I'm irritated enough already."

"You can say that again," Simon muttered.

"What was 'at?" Kaylee asked, her voice dangerously calm and tender.

"I said what can I do, then?" Simon temporized.

"Just be here with me," Kaylee sighed. "Just lay here and tell me everything will be okay and that all this will work out and we'll be home 'fore the baby gets here."

"Uh, Kaylee, I can't promise-"

"Simon, I didn't ask you for a promise," Kaylee sighed again. "Just. . .just tell me, okay. Try'n make me b'lieve it, too, alright?"

"I'll try." Simon settled in and began to try and reassure his wife that all would be well. Which was difficult because he wasn't sure it would be. Not at all.

FIREFLY

"Not at all?"

"Nothing," Wart shook his head. "Whoever is takin' him home has some kind o' ship, I'll say that," he added as he took a seat. He had been to the station office to see if a ship matching Fury's description had been through here.

"Ever ship's gotta have fuel at some point," Mal semi-objected.

"Small ship, built for speed and endurance," River pointed out. Since her 'talk' with both Mal and Goldie she had brightened some, finally believing, at least slightly, that all might not be lost between her and Jayne. Intellectually she had already known that, but emotionally the reassurance had been. . .well, reassuring.

"True," Mal sighed. "Well, what's our time table look like?"

"We'll be ready to put out in. . .five hours," Blade checked the time. "After that, once we're back up to speed, another twenty-two to twenty-four hours to Tokala. After that, we're gonna need a way to get on the ground."

"We'll figure something out."

FF FF FF FF FF FF FF

"We'll have to figure out something to tell Joseph, Father," Annassa Flint spoke softly. "We will arrive home in three days. Four at most."

"I will tell him whatever I need to for now," George waved her concern away. "He will follow orders as he always has. No imagination, Joseph. A follower but not a leader."

"Perhaps he follow out of respect for you," his daughter suggested. "Perhaps that is why he is content to follow."

"No man should be content to follow," his contempt was obvious. "But he is useful, and he will continue to be. When he is not, then I will replace him." He looked at her then.

"That is something you must learn, Annassa, if you are to rule our people. There comes a time that you must cast aside those who weigh you down or slow you down. You cannot afford ties of an emotional nature to those around you as they may one day be the very people you must rid yourself of."

"I understand," she nodded. Far, far better than you think I do, Father, she didn't add. I have learned more from you than you realize. And you will know that before the end.

FIREFLY

"Thanks for the ride," Jayne said as he loaded his bags into the shuttle. Elaine had decided she would not set foot on her home planet again after all.

"You paid for it," she shrugged. She had learned a great deal the last two days of her trip. And shared a good bit, too.

"It was good to talk to someone who knew. . .you know," Jayne was almost sheepish. "Thanks."

"I should thank you," Elaine smiled and Jayne could see the beautiful woman she still was and got a hint of the beauty she would have been when she met her mother. He was pretty sure he knew where the scar came from, but he couldn't ask.

"Ya'áí n'a'Tl'é'gona'áí oyecha yu camino," Jayne said softly as he gripped her hand softly. Sun and moon watch over your road. "Be safe. Be happy. Be well." That from his mother.

"And you, ma'a'kiona," the older woman smiled. "Grace to your travels." Jayne clambered aboard and Elaine turned to Ginny.

"Take him where he wants to go," she ordered. "It won't look like anything, but that's all right. He's. . .he's got somewhere to be."

"Yes, Cap'n," the other woman nodded. "Cap'n-"

"Later, perhaps," Elaine shook her head. "Much later. Maybe when I'm drunk. Now go. We've got another job to get to."

Five minutes later the shuttle was gone and Elaine was already missing the son of her dearest friend ever.

Life was funny sometimes.

She was still wondering if she'd ever see him again when Ginny returned and the Fury departed for her next job.

FIREFLY

"Take care Mister Cobb," Ginny said as Jayne stepped off the shuttle. "It was a pleasure." When Jayne didn't immediately leave she looked up at him.

"Something you need?" she asked. He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

"Do you know who. . ." His finger made a slash down his face.

She nodded and almost whispered a name. Jayne nodded and took his bag, stepping away from the shuttle without looking back, heading into the wilds around their landing sight. There had been no sign of civilization anywhere nearby from the air. She wondered where he was going, but her Captain's voice echoed in her head, telling her it wasn't their 'business'.

She was on the way back to Fury before it dawned on her why Cobb has asked about Elaine's scar. But it was too late, then.

FIREFLY

Jayne looked at his home place for the first time since the days his childhood had been stripped away. There were faint traces of a few homes still barely visible, most with trees now growing among them in the tall grass that had taken over the area.

He walked what he remembered as streets of the town he had grown up in. Streets he had ran up and down with his friends, playing hooka or some other sport, always happy. It was strange that being here would remind him that this was once a happy place. His mind had erased, or maybe just hidden those good memories after all he had been through. This place had been a nightmare to him for a long time and the thought of seeing it again had not been without some dread.

But now that he was here, all he could remember was the good times. His family, his friends, his life. It had not been bad. Not all bad. Not at all.

The sound of a vehicle broke him from his trance and he instinctively moved to one of the trees that had grown up after his departure, concealing himself in the bush. He would see, now, if Joseph Many-Horses could be trusted. Well, probably.

The truck had only the driver as it negotiated the now rough ground that had once been a good road. Long neglected it was now almost impassable save for the sturdiest of conveyances.

The truck finally came to a stop and the driver emerged. Even at a distance Jayne could see that it was the man he was here to meet. And even at the distance the dignity of Many-Horses was evident. Even as Jayne watched he saw the Elder kneel and take a handful of dirt, releasing it to the wind, followed by a handful of grass. He then took something from his pocket that he tossed about him on the ground.

Blessing the ground and appeasing the spirits, Jayne thought to himself. This was a man who honored the old way. Jayne had entertained no such thoughts and was not ashamed of that. Such ways were no longer his.

His work finished, Many-Horses leaned his back upon the truck's front and stood comfortably, waiting. Patience was a virtue taught to Yaquay children from an early age. Stillness. Emulate the predator, not the prey.

Jayne watched for some time, seeing if the man showed signs of unease, but there were none. He didn't look at the sky or check his watch, he didn't try to look for Jayne. He simply waited.

Good enough, Jayne decided. He could always kill him if it wasn't.

FIREFLY

Joseph was startled to see the large figure walking toward him. He had not seen the man emerge from anywhere. One minute there was nothing, the next a man was walking in the middle of the clearing, such as it was, straight toward him.

He studied the man with no small trepidation. This man was both a legend and curse among his people. Known as a blood-thirsty and violent man of no equal, yet he had spoken long to Many-Horses of the needs of the People. He had treated the Elder with the respect due his position. That was something few of the People's own children did today.

Truly this man had been raised to be one of the People, Raised or not. His parents were no doubt looking down upon him in pride, if somewhat bittersweet.

"Ironhorse," he said simply as the man approached.

"Tomkah," Jayne bowed slightly at the neck in salute. "It is much changed," he settled for saying.

"All your lands have lain fallow since. . .since," the Elder nodded. "Tribal law. Three generations must pass before anything is done."

"Someone's a little impatient, then," Jayne mused.

"He would sell his soul," Many-Horses nodded. "Perhaps he already has."

"And I have come to collect," Jayne assured him.

"Get in," the Elder ordered. "It is not far and they are waiting."

FIREFLY FOREVER

A/N - I know it seems like it sometimes, but I haven't forgotten this. Thing is I want this to be just right, since it's. . .well, it's the last. So please forgive me for being so long sometimes between updates.

If you're looking for their language, don't bother. The words are real, but as I described it's a mishmash of several languages. You're getting the benefit of my working to turn Shade into a real story of his own, though he won't be called Shade.

My original work honestly bears almost no resemblance to my Firefly stories except that it involves a ship. All I can say for now is that the character Shade is based on is much more. . .Shade, let's say, in my original works.

Shade was always based on an original character idea, but I never imagined I'd ever be a published author way back then, something like eight or nine years gone by now. Life's funny, as Elaine would say.

But Sean's story will be told in a universe of his own, soon. Lord willing I live long enough to finish it, anyway.

Meanwhile, Shade continues for a little longer. Enjoy with my thanks.