Fic: Five Women Jayne Cobb Loves (2/3)
Sep. 1st, 2009 09:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
harahelTitle: Five Women Jayne Cobb Loves
Author: Vera
Rating: R-ish for bad language, whores and violence.
Pairing: Jayne/River, Jayne/OFCs
Summary: The women who made the man.
Author Notes: Written for [info]Lauren how_obscure over at [info]rayne_exchange. The prompt was
"Your mind honey is a bleak place / Living in your mind's living in a blank space" -- Action This Day by Queen. Uh...yeah. I'm sorry. This fic got away from me and I'm now no longer sure how it relates to the prompt. I hope you still enjoy it!
This is un-beta'd. I ran out of time to get it looked at. I hope you like it, warts and all.
3. Shiloh
“I ain’t doin’ it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. At seventeen, he was a foot and change taller than his Ma, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“She’s a good woman, Jayne and you been mournin’ long enough.” She crossed her arms right back. “I’m not askin’ you to marry the girl, just take her to this one dance.”
“But-“
“No buts. I told your father that you’d take her and that’s what you’re gonna do.” She frowned. “And you’re gonna do it clean. Go take a bath and change into those nice clothes I got yah."
An hour later he was washed and stuffed into black pants and a button down shirt. His Ma beamed at him, putting a flower into his hand and sending him down the street. He grumbled the whole way, the flower wilting until he tossed it.
Shiloh was waiting for him on her porch. He didn’t know her very well, always thought of her as kinda plain and shy or maybe just afraid of him like most of the good farmers' girls. Figured she’d be as miserable as he was over this set up.
Could have knocked him over with a feather when she beamed at him coming up the way. Her dress was just neat calico, but showed more curves than Jayne remembered. Someone had done her hair up real nice, in fat curls and she was even wearing a little bit of makeup.
“Don’t stare.” She laughed, taking his arm before he could offer it. “I can clean up just as nice as you.”
“Hi.” He managed and wished he hadn’t tossed the flower. Would have given him something to do with his hands, anyway. His Ma hadn't let him bring a gun.
“It’s ok.” She patted his hand. “I know your Ma made you take me out. Heard her and my Papa talkin’ on it. But maybe we can have a good time anyway.”
“I don’t dance.” He warned her. “I spit on the floor and I’m bound to wind up punchin’ someone.”
“I know.” She laughed. “You’re different than the other boys. I like it.”
He thought maybe she was just bein’ sweet considerin’ their forced date, but turned out Shiloh really didn’t care much for dancing either and she could spit farther then him. They sat at the makeshift bar, her matchin’ him drink for drink. He talked though he couldn’t remember what about and she listened with a soft smile.
Later when he walked her home, it occurred to him that he’d like to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it when there wasn’t money involved first.
“I had a real good time.” She touched his hand.
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Me too.”
“Reckon I should go inside. My Pa is waitin’ up for me.” She pointed to a flickering light in the window.
“I…do you wanna maybe go for a walk tomorrow?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you don’t gotta, not a lot here to look at…”
“Yes.” She got up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “After sunset, I take care of my sisters until then.”
He touched the spot on his face her lips had touched and watched her walk back into the house, the porch light making her hair glow. When he got back, his Ma was asleep in a chair by the door with Mattie dozing in her arms. It wasn't nothing to pluck up Mattie and settle him in his crib. When he came back down, he tucked in his Ma in a blanket. In the morning she was smiling slyly like she already knew her plan had worked.
The first time he kissed Shiloh proper, it was in gorram meadow with birds chirping. It was the kind of thing that didn’t happen to folk like them. They were practical types, farm kids. They didn’t get romance, but there they were getting the soft look for each other.
"I heard about Ellie." She mentioned casually when they were taking one of their twilight walks.
"What about her?" He stopped walking.
"That you loved her." Shiloh had a way of talking soft that warmed his belly like whiskey. "I think it's nice. That you didn't care who she'd been."
"I cared." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just like...didn't matter. I like whores."
"Mhmm." Shiloh bent down to tie her laces and Jayne realized he loved her. She didn't just hear what he said and get mad, she knew what he meant. "You don't mind that I wanna wait?"
"Nah. Figure, it'll be special that way, right?"
"Right." She laughed. "I don't know nothin' about it. My Papa won't even look me in the eye when he's seen me kissin' you. So you'll have to teach me."
"Sounds to be fun."
"Heathen."
"Teasin' wench."
"I'll race you to the lake!" She was off and running and he chased her, feeling full and happy for an afternoon.
“If’n we both work hard, maybe we could open up shop at the port.” Shiloh often dreamed aloud, holding his hand. “You know more about guns than anyone else on Thanatos and everyone says I’d make a good saleswoman.”
“Yeah, that’d be real fine.” Jayne would agree because she was smiling at him. With Ellie, there'd been only the idea of being together without much plan. With Shiloh things looked solid and real. He could see their store, their home...their children. It'd be a good life. One his Ma could be proud he had.
Without even bein’ nagged once about doin’ right by her, Jayne picked out a nice ring and asked her to marry him six months after that first date. He may be a bit slow, but he wasn’t a gorram moron. He was lucky to have a girl like Shiloh and he wasn’t letting someone else come and snatch her. ‘Specially after what happened to Ellie. He liked to think that Ellie would have approved. He sometimes imagined the two of them talking and in his head they got on like a house on fire.
They hadn’t even got a chance to set a wedding date when the Reavers landed. There’d been rumors, of course, but no one believed them. Sounded like boogie men to threaten the Rim to fall into line. Only the Alliance can save you from these monsters, the Feds assured the populace. Didn’t do them much good when the Reaver ship crashed into their Thanatos' headquarters and ripped them to shreds before spilling out onto the streets.
"Get the guns!" Dom had pelted in from the fields, yelling at Jayne. "Make sure the little 'uns are in the house!"
No need to tell him twice, Jayne rushed into the yard, slinging his sister over one arm and his brother over the other. Dom barred the doors while Jayne hustled them and Ma into the cellar. When the monsters broke into the house, they were met with guns blazing. Together they took out five of 'em, before it seemed quiet enough. Jayne left his best rifle with Dom, grabbed up a set of pistols before setting off at a dead run for Shiloh’s homestead.
In Shiloh's yard, the little girls were strewn around their interrupted game of hopscotch, their faces little more than shredded meat. Stomach roiling, he pressed forward. He caught sight of her hair in the hall and for a minute, he dared to hope. Course he was swiftly punished for it.
They’d torn her dress off, revealing tawny nakedness he had only dreamed about. In the process, their fingers had dug under her skin and their teeth into the tender flesh of her arms and breasts. Her face was frozen in an endless scream and Jayne had to go back outside so he could empty his stomach.
He never did remember how he made it home, but he spent the night leaning against that cellar door, shooting at anything that made a sound. The cat didn’t make it, but neither did the four other beasts that came towards him and his family. The fear that stole into him that night was sharper than any other he'd had before or since. In the distance, people screamed and all he could see between noises was Shiloh's face in death.
When morning dawned and his Ma peered round the door to see if he’d made it home, he near blew her head off.
They had to bury the bodies quickly. The heat of the summer was on them and there were too many for proper funerals. Jayne helped dig holes and thought about nothing. He slung the mutilated dead down into the earth and thought about nothing. He tended to the farm and thought about nothing.
"Son?" One night as he stared dead eyed at the wall, his Ma crept into his room. "I got somethin' for ya. I finished it so it wouldn't hang loose, I hope you don't mind."
She slid something soft into his lap. He stared at it uncomprehending until she laid a hand on his shoulder. "She would have wanted you to have it."
It was tradition on Thanatos for a bride to tear up the clothes of her childhood and use the cloth to make a patchwork quilt. The mass in his hand were all the colors Shiloh loved to wear bound in her neat stitching. One end was messy, his Ma's work where she'd hastily tucked everything in so it wouldn't come apart.
"Thanks." His voice came out strangled and foreign. It should have been finished by Shiloh's hand, slipped onto their bed for their wedding night. Maybe eventually been wrapped around their children's shoulders at bedtime.
"She loved you something fierce." His Ma said through tears. "I hope you find someone like her again."
Fingering the fine stitches, Jayne silently disagreed. Wasn't safe for a good woman's health to take a shine to him. He weren't gonna try to love another one ever again.
4. Vera
“Gorram worthless piece of go se!" Swore a leather clad woman as she kicked a sorry looking lout in the head. “I done told you a thousand times!”
“I’m sorry, really.” He warbled. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right.” She took out her gun and shot him in arm. “It won’t. Boat’s gonna leave while you’re gettin’ that looked at.”
Jayne stared down at the whimpering man. He’d been at the port looking for work. At breakfast, all he could see was the unsatisfied wants. Jackie's dress nearly too thin to be decent, Mattie studying from third hand books and baby Darcy chewing on her spoon for want of more food. And the nights...too many bad memories to count. Figured it would do them all a favor if he went shipboard. Even if he didn't make enough to send home, it'd be one less mouth to feed. Not to mention less money gone to pay for his bail when fights got ugly. They'd gotten ugly a lot lately.
“You.” The woman pointed at him. “You know how to use that rusted pistol you got strapped to your side?”
“Yeah.” He touched the hilt of his best gun. “Why?”
“Cap’n likes to have a gun hand around on jobs and looks like I just got rid of ours.” She was the first woman he’d ever met who could look him right in the eye without craning her neck. Her skin was painfully pale and her hair was shorter then his, black as space.
“What kind of jobs?”
“If you’re picky about morality, you can move right along.” She holstered her gun.
“What’s the coin?”
“New kid like you? Two protein meals a day, a spot on the floor to sleep and a three percent of the cut per job.”
“Seven percent.”
“Need a gun hand, not a specialist.” She sniffed. “Four.”
“Six. I’m real good with my gun.” He leered.
“Four.” She grinned, all teeth and wickedness. “No kid’s gonna get a share bigger’n mine.”
“I’m Jayne.” He held out his hand.
“Vera.” Her handshake was strong enough that he was a bit worried for his bones. “Pilot of the good ship Pian. The Cap’n will want to meet you.”
The captain turned out to be a midget of a man named Argus, who was a bit grabby with the female help. Vera seemed not to notice, brushing off his hands like flies.
“You smoke cigars, boy?” Argus asked him right off. “I don’t trust a man that holds with cigarettes.”
“Don’t smoke anything.” Jayne shrugged. “Too expensive to get tobacco around here.”
“Never smoked?” Argus’ looked offended. “That’s just wrong. Vera! Get me my case.”
Never rising from her easy sprawl in the pilot’s seat, she reached behind her head and passed him a gold foil box.
“This.” Argus told him, passing a cigar. “Is the first of many for you, boy. We live on the high horse around here.”
The rest of the crew didn’t bother to introduce themselves. Seemed like they were used to new faces at the table and didn’t care to form a bond with someone Vera might take a disliking to at any moment.
At night, he wrote his Ma short, painstaking notes. He was honest with her because he always was and didn’t know how not to be. The jobs weren’t moral, they weren’t things a good man do. He had a sinking feeling that Shiloh wouldn’t’ve approved, but she wasn’t around to say one way or the other, was she? The letters he got back from Ma were just news of things at home, sometimes with scrawled lectures from Dom about keeping his nose clean written along the bottom.
The money was good or at least, it was good for him. The rest of the crew didn't seem that impressed. One job would bank him more then he’d earn plowing a field for a month. He sent most of it on back home, saving only a little for new boots and booze. When the others tumbled out of the ship grateful for a night off, he stayed behind carefully cleaning his pistols.
“Why is it you don’t go whorin’ with the rest of the boys?” Vera slunk into the room and poured herself into the chair next to him.
“Don’t want to catch nothin’. This far out, they don’t barely monitor the girls.” He said quickly. Truth was, he hadn’t touched a woman since Shiloh and that only light kissing, Ellie had been his only one and the idea of getting intimate with someone and washing both of them away did funny things to his stomach.
“I’m clean.” She flashed him a wide, predatory smile. “And I’ve seen you staring.”
“You wear starin’ clothes.” He pointed out, swallowing hard.
“Do more then stare.” She dared him.
"Why? You don't even like me."
"Says who?" When she spread his legs wide, he could smell the heat of her.
"Dunno, just sorta guessed it."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." Her shoulders twisted as she stretched, her shirt riding up. "But you don't need to like a body to enjoy it. "
"So if I did this..." He leaned forward only to find his head pushed back.
“I don’t kiss.”
Lucky Jayne, that was pretty much all that was on her ‘No’ list. She rode him like a stallion she was aimin’ to break and bent in ways he’d only fantasized about before. Her body wasn’t softly pampered like a whore's or calloused like a laborer, but as hard and uncompromising as his own. Every muscle stood out, sharply defined and her nails curved into his skin. Sex with Vera was a workout, a challenge. She didn’t allow him to be gentle, she could take his bulk and return it in kind.
Outside of her bunk, everything went on like it had. Argus showed Jayne how to smoke a cigar proper like and he got a taste for it. Vera showed him some things to do with a gun that should have been illegal, some that certainly were. He learned how to kill people, how not to kill them, but hurt them so bad they'd say pretty much anything. Things that seemed to come to Vera natural as breathing.
Jayne purely worshiped her. He'd not set out too, but she was a powerful, seasoned woman that could set him on fire with a look. Every time she drew him into her bunk, it got harder to breathe. She didn't simper at him or even seem to pay him much mind once bedding was over, but Jayne was growing used to that. As long as he was allowed to sink into her body and cause her to yowl like a wild cat, it was good enough for him. And maybe she did like him after a fashion. Occasionally she would stroke his face even after they were done or admire him under heavy eye lids when she thought he wasn't looking.
After six months on board, The Job came in. The one that made little skiffs like theirs stand up and take notice and beg like dogs. If they could land this take, they would all become nearly rich, even Jayne with his small sliver of the profits. The night before it went down, Vera leaned in real close after they'd finished setting the sheets on fire and told him abut her plan.
"Seems to me Argus and this lot ain't done much to deserve this pot." Her breath spilled hot over his neck. "It's you and me what does most of the work."
"I dunno about that." Jayne said like he wasn't paying any mind though he was listening hard.
"It's true. And with Argus' sticky fingers. Well. Who knows how much of the bounty we'll actually get." One of her strong hands kneaded the back of his neck. "Think what we could do with the money split just two ways."
"And how do you figure on doing that?" He sat up, sheet spilling around his waist.
"We kill them." She smiled, her white teeth flashing in the dark. "I've wanted to do Argus for a long time anyway."
"I dunno." Jayne rubbed his palms over his knees. "Seems a bit severe. Couldn't we just strand them planetside or something?"
"We'd never be free then." Vera pouted. "Argus would never stop looking for us."
"Just seems a mite harsh, is all."
"Please, my love. For me?" She kissed him on the shoulder. His skin went cold and he looked away.
"Yeah. For you." He agreed.
The job went down smooth as butter. Argus was so pleased he nearly burst out of his clothes. He bought the entire crew a round of sake and stuffed a cigar between all their lips, even Vera. Jayne just chewed on the end of his, too nervous even to smoke it. Vera kept shooting him bedroom looks like she might change her mind about the whole plan and just go straight to her bunk with him in tow.
That was wishful thinking though. Soon as they hit the deck, Vera gave him the signal. He turned off his mind and started shooting. He was pathetically grateful that she took care of Argus. The rest of the crew had never been friendly to him, but he'd kinda taken a liking to the ugly gnome.
It was the first time that Jayne had stuck around to see the results of his handiwork. They didn't look no different than the animals he'd killed for food. A few careful bullet holes, but otherwise peaceful. The walls were spattered with blood, nothing that couldn't be cleaned away at a later date.
"You were amazing." Vera's eyes shone, her clothes spattered in blood. She licked her lips and started towards him, yanking on shirt.
"What are you on about?" He grabbed one of her hands even as the other wandered south.
"You know what violence does to me." She whined, writhing against him. "I want you."
It was true that she did get frisky right after she wasted someone. It had always made his skin crawl a bit, but he knew this was no time to say so. He let her undress him right there. They went at it in a frenzy, breaking things that had survived the fight intact and knocking over the table. Laying in the center of the carnage when it was all over, he heard the click of a safety before the cool barrel was pressed to his forehead.
"Sorry, bao bei." She smiled nastily. "You know how business can go."
"I reckon I do." Ready, he kicked her hard in the head. By the time she recovered, he had both his pistols in hand. "Shouldn't have laid it on so thick. Even a dumb kid like me can piece together when he's bein' led on."
"Don't do this." She pleaded, suddenly soft again. "I wasn't gonna shoot. Just scare you some and take off."
"Uh huh." Jayne stepped hard on her gun hand just in case she got any ideas, ignoring her shriek. "Even splitting in half would have been enough money for whatever you coulda asked for. You could have broken off with me, left me the money. Not like I woulda gone after you."
"Half would have been good. All is better." She bared her teeth at him. "And you would have chased after me. You got that way about you with women. Bet you would have panted after me for years. I like that in a man."
"I think you just like death." Jayne said slowly. "And I don't hold with that."
He shot her once in the head, once in the heart. The pistols were still hot when he holstered them, took the money and walked off the ship. He didn't know how to pilot the gorram thing anyway. Didn't want anything to remind him of her. Until years later when he'd picked up a nasty looking Callahan off the body of a man what tried to kill him. That gun wanted blood more than any other he'd ever owned. The name came real natural like.
After cleaning her blood off his hands, he went to the nearest bank and sent his Ma nearly all the money with a note:
Dear Ma,
I'm doing all right. My last job had a bonus which is what the money is. Please use some of it for flowers. Lilies for Ellie, Sunflowers for Shiloh.
I miss you.
Love,
Jayne
He'd wanted to put a lot more in there. Say a lot of other things, but he couldn't find the words. The money that would have lasted him several years would buy a lot of needfuls for the farm, so that would have to say it for him.
With the coin he'd kept, he bought himself passage to the other side of the Rim and went looking for work again. It was a pattern he'd become real familiar with: get a job, stay on it until real money came in, then abandon ship. He made far more enemies then friends. Gave up trust as something for suckers and settled his urges on honest whores. He tended to overpay the girls some which guaranteed him a warm welcome back. Sometimes that welcome had saved his hide. More then one time he'd laid real still under some perfumed bed while the law paced outside. Maybe the girls just knew where he'd come from or liked his giving style in bed because they always welcomed him in like he was more than just some John who tipped good. Every whore house reminded him a little of home and eased weight off his shoulders.
But he didn't form attachments, didn't kiss or visit one place too often. Just focused on the next job, the next kill and the next shore leave.
Author: Vera
Rating: R-ish for bad language, whores and violence.
Pairing: Jayne/River, Jayne/OFCs
Summary: The women who made the man.
Author Notes: Written for [info]Lauren how_obscure over at [info]rayne_exchange. The prompt was
"Your mind honey is a bleak place / Living in your mind's living in a blank space" -- Action This Day by Queen. Uh...yeah. I'm sorry. This fic got away from me and I'm now no longer sure how it relates to the prompt. I hope you still enjoy it!
This is un-beta'd. I ran out of time to get it looked at. I hope you like it, warts and all.
3. Shiloh
“I ain’t doin’ it.” He crossed his arms over his chest. At seventeen, he was a foot and change taller than his Ma, but she didn’t seem to notice.
“She’s a good woman, Jayne and you been mournin’ long enough.” She crossed her arms right back. “I’m not askin’ you to marry the girl, just take her to this one dance.”
“But-“
“No buts. I told your father that you’d take her and that’s what you’re gonna do.” She frowned. “And you’re gonna do it clean. Go take a bath and change into those nice clothes I got yah."
An hour later he was washed and stuffed into black pants and a button down shirt. His Ma beamed at him, putting a flower into his hand and sending him down the street. He grumbled the whole way, the flower wilting until he tossed it.
Shiloh was waiting for him on her porch. He didn’t know her very well, always thought of her as kinda plain and shy or maybe just afraid of him like most of the good farmers' girls. Figured she’d be as miserable as he was over this set up.
Could have knocked him over with a feather when she beamed at him coming up the way. Her dress was just neat calico, but showed more curves than Jayne remembered. Someone had done her hair up real nice, in fat curls and she was even wearing a little bit of makeup.
“Don’t stare.” She laughed, taking his arm before he could offer it. “I can clean up just as nice as you.”
“Hi.” He managed and wished he hadn’t tossed the flower. Would have given him something to do with his hands, anyway. His Ma hadn't let him bring a gun.
“It’s ok.” She patted his hand. “I know your Ma made you take me out. Heard her and my Papa talkin’ on it. But maybe we can have a good time anyway.”
“I don’t dance.” He warned her. “I spit on the floor and I’m bound to wind up punchin’ someone.”
“I know.” She laughed. “You’re different than the other boys. I like it.”
He thought maybe she was just bein’ sweet considerin’ their forced date, but turned out Shiloh really didn’t care much for dancing either and she could spit farther then him. They sat at the makeshift bar, her matchin’ him drink for drink. He talked though he couldn’t remember what about and she listened with a soft smile.
Later when he walked her home, it occurred to him that he’d like to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure how to go about it when there wasn’t money involved first.
“I had a real good time.” She touched his hand.
“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Me too.”
“Reckon I should go inside. My Pa is waitin’ up for me.” She pointed to a flickering light in the window.
“I…do you wanna maybe go for a walk tomorrow?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you don’t gotta, not a lot here to look at…”
“Yes.” She got up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “After sunset, I take care of my sisters until then.”
He touched the spot on his face her lips had touched and watched her walk back into the house, the porch light making her hair glow. When he got back, his Ma was asleep in a chair by the door with Mattie dozing in her arms. It wasn't nothing to pluck up Mattie and settle him in his crib. When he came back down, he tucked in his Ma in a blanket. In the morning she was smiling slyly like she already knew her plan had worked.
The first time he kissed Shiloh proper, it was in gorram meadow with birds chirping. It was the kind of thing that didn’t happen to folk like them. They were practical types, farm kids. They didn’t get romance, but there they were getting the soft look for each other.
"I heard about Ellie." She mentioned casually when they were taking one of their twilight walks.
"What about her?" He stopped walking.
"That you loved her." Shiloh had a way of talking soft that warmed his belly like whiskey. "I think it's nice. That you didn't care who she'd been."
"I cared." He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just like...didn't matter. I like whores."
"Mhmm." Shiloh bent down to tie her laces and Jayne realized he loved her. She didn't just hear what he said and get mad, she knew what he meant. "You don't mind that I wanna wait?"
"Nah. Figure, it'll be special that way, right?"
"Right." She laughed. "I don't know nothin' about it. My Papa won't even look me in the eye when he's seen me kissin' you. So you'll have to teach me."
"Sounds to be fun."
"Heathen."
"Teasin' wench."
"I'll race you to the lake!" She was off and running and he chased her, feeling full and happy for an afternoon.
“If’n we both work hard, maybe we could open up shop at the port.” Shiloh often dreamed aloud, holding his hand. “You know more about guns than anyone else on Thanatos and everyone says I’d make a good saleswoman.”
“Yeah, that’d be real fine.” Jayne would agree because she was smiling at him. With Ellie, there'd been only the idea of being together without much plan. With Shiloh things looked solid and real. He could see their store, their home...their children. It'd be a good life. One his Ma could be proud he had.
Without even bein’ nagged once about doin’ right by her, Jayne picked out a nice ring and asked her to marry him six months after that first date. He may be a bit slow, but he wasn’t a gorram moron. He was lucky to have a girl like Shiloh and he wasn’t letting someone else come and snatch her. ‘Specially after what happened to Ellie. He liked to think that Ellie would have approved. He sometimes imagined the two of them talking and in his head they got on like a house on fire.
They hadn’t even got a chance to set a wedding date when the Reavers landed. There’d been rumors, of course, but no one believed them. Sounded like boogie men to threaten the Rim to fall into line. Only the Alliance can save you from these monsters, the Feds assured the populace. Didn’t do them much good when the Reaver ship crashed into their Thanatos' headquarters and ripped them to shreds before spilling out onto the streets.
"Get the guns!" Dom had pelted in from the fields, yelling at Jayne. "Make sure the little 'uns are in the house!"
No need to tell him twice, Jayne rushed into the yard, slinging his sister over one arm and his brother over the other. Dom barred the doors while Jayne hustled them and Ma into the cellar. When the monsters broke into the house, they were met with guns blazing. Together they took out five of 'em, before it seemed quiet enough. Jayne left his best rifle with Dom, grabbed up a set of pistols before setting off at a dead run for Shiloh’s homestead.
In Shiloh's yard, the little girls were strewn around their interrupted game of hopscotch, their faces little more than shredded meat. Stomach roiling, he pressed forward. He caught sight of her hair in the hall and for a minute, he dared to hope. Course he was swiftly punished for it.
They’d torn her dress off, revealing tawny nakedness he had only dreamed about. In the process, their fingers had dug under her skin and their teeth into the tender flesh of her arms and breasts. Her face was frozen in an endless scream and Jayne had to go back outside so he could empty his stomach.
He never did remember how he made it home, but he spent the night leaning against that cellar door, shooting at anything that made a sound. The cat didn’t make it, but neither did the four other beasts that came towards him and his family. The fear that stole into him that night was sharper than any other he'd had before or since. In the distance, people screamed and all he could see between noises was Shiloh's face in death.
When morning dawned and his Ma peered round the door to see if he’d made it home, he near blew her head off.
They had to bury the bodies quickly. The heat of the summer was on them and there were too many for proper funerals. Jayne helped dig holes and thought about nothing. He slung the mutilated dead down into the earth and thought about nothing. He tended to the farm and thought about nothing.
"Son?" One night as he stared dead eyed at the wall, his Ma crept into his room. "I got somethin' for ya. I finished it so it wouldn't hang loose, I hope you don't mind."
She slid something soft into his lap. He stared at it uncomprehending until she laid a hand on his shoulder. "She would have wanted you to have it."
It was tradition on Thanatos for a bride to tear up the clothes of her childhood and use the cloth to make a patchwork quilt. The mass in his hand were all the colors Shiloh loved to wear bound in her neat stitching. One end was messy, his Ma's work where she'd hastily tucked everything in so it wouldn't come apart.
"Thanks." His voice came out strangled and foreign. It should have been finished by Shiloh's hand, slipped onto their bed for their wedding night. Maybe eventually been wrapped around their children's shoulders at bedtime.
"She loved you something fierce." His Ma said through tears. "I hope you find someone like her again."
Fingering the fine stitches, Jayne silently disagreed. Wasn't safe for a good woman's health to take a shine to him. He weren't gonna try to love another one ever again.
4. Vera
“Gorram worthless piece of go se!" Swore a leather clad woman as she kicked a sorry looking lout in the head. “I done told you a thousand times!”
“I’m sorry, really.” He warbled. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right.” She took out her gun and shot him in arm. “It won’t. Boat’s gonna leave while you’re gettin’ that looked at.”
Jayne stared down at the whimpering man. He’d been at the port looking for work. At breakfast, all he could see was the unsatisfied wants. Jackie's dress nearly too thin to be decent, Mattie studying from third hand books and baby Darcy chewing on her spoon for want of more food. And the nights...too many bad memories to count. Figured it would do them all a favor if he went shipboard. Even if he didn't make enough to send home, it'd be one less mouth to feed. Not to mention less money gone to pay for his bail when fights got ugly. They'd gotten ugly a lot lately.
“You.” The woman pointed at him. “You know how to use that rusted pistol you got strapped to your side?”
“Yeah.” He touched the hilt of his best gun. “Why?”
“Cap’n likes to have a gun hand around on jobs and looks like I just got rid of ours.” She was the first woman he’d ever met who could look him right in the eye without craning her neck. Her skin was painfully pale and her hair was shorter then his, black as space.
“What kind of jobs?”
“If you’re picky about morality, you can move right along.” She holstered her gun.
“What’s the coin?”
“New kid like you? Two protein meals a day, a spot on the floor to sleep and a three percent of the cut per job.”
“Seven percent.”
“Need a gun hand, not a specialist.” She sniffed. “Four.”
“Six. I’m real good with my gun.” He leered.
“Four.” She grinned, all teeth and wickedness. “No kid’s gonna get a share bigger’n mine.”
“I’m Jayne.” He held out his hand.
“Vera.” Her handshake was strong enough that he was a bit worried for his bones. “Pilot of the good ship Pian. The Cap’n will want to meet you.”
The captain turned out to be a midget of a man named Argus, who was a bit grabby with the female help. Vera seemed not to notice, brushing off his hands like flies.
“You smoke cigars, boy?” Argus asked him right off. “I don’t trust a man that holds with cigarettes.”
“Don’t smoke anything.” Jayne shrugged. “Too expensive to get tobacco around here.”
“Never smoked?” Argus’ looked offended. “That’s just wrong. Vera! Get me my case.”
Never rising from her easy sprawl in the pilot’s seat, she reached behind her head and passed him a gold foil box.
“This.” Argus told him, passing a cigar. “Is the first of many for you, boy. We live on the high horse around here.”
The rest of the crew didn’t bother to introduce themselves. Seemed like they were used to new faces at the table and didn’t care to form a bond with someone Vera might take a disliking to at any moment.
At night, he wrote his Ma short, painstaking notes. He was honest with her because he always was and didn’t know how not to be. The jobs weren’t moral, they weren’t things a good man do. He had a sinking feeling that Shiloh wouldn’t’ve approved, but she wasn’t around to say one way or the other, was she? The letters he got back from Ma were just news of things at home, sometimes with scrawled lectures from Dom about keeping his nose clean written along the bottom.
The money was good or at least, it was good for him. The rest of the crew didn't seem that impressed. One job would bank him more then he’d earn plowing a field for a month. He sent most of it on back home, saving only a little for new boots and booze. When the others tumbled out of the ship grateful for a night off, he stayed behind carefully cleaning his pistols.
“Why is it you don’t go whorin’ with the rest of the boys?” Vera slunk into the room and poured herself into the chair next to him.
“Don’t want to catch nothin’. This far out, they don’t barely monitor the girls.” He said quickly. Truth was, he hadn’t touched a woman since Shiloh and that only light kissing, Ellie had been his only one and the idea of getting intimate with someone and washing both of them away did funny things to his stomach.
“I’m clean.” She flashed him a wide, predatory smile. “And I’ve seen you staring.”
“You wear starin’ clothes.” He pointed out, swallowing hard.
“Do more then stare.” She dared him.
"Why? You don't even like me."
"Says who?" When she spread his legs wide, he could smell the heat of her.
"Dunno, just sorta guessed it."
"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." Her shoulders twisted as she stretched, her shirt riding up. "But you don't need to like a body to enjoy it. "
"So if I did this..." He leaned forward only to find his head pushed back.
“I don’t kiss.”
Lucky Jayne, that was pretty much all that was on her ‘No’ list. She rode him like a stallion she was aimin’ to break and bent in ways he’d only fantasized about before. Her body wasn’t softly pampered like a whore's or calloused like a laborer, but as hard and uncompromising as his own. Every muscle stood out, sharply defined and her nails curved into his skin. Sex with Vera was a workout, a challenge. She didn’t allow him to be gentle, she could take his bulk and return it in kind.
Outside of her bunk, everything went on like it had. Argus showed Jayne how to smoke a cigar proper like and he got a taste for it. Vera showed him some things to do with a gun that should have been illegal, some that certainly were. He learned how to kill people, how not to kill them, but hurt them so bad they'd say pretty much anything. Things that seemed to come to Vera natural as breathing.
Jayne purely worshiped her. He'd not set out too, but she was a powerful, seasoned woman that could set him on fire with a look. Every time she drew him into her bunk, it got harder to breathe. She didn't simper at him or even seem to pay him much mind once bedding was over, but Jayne was growing used to that. As long as he was allowed to sink into her body and cause her to yowl like a wild cat, it was good enough for him. And maybe she did like him after a fashion. Occasionally she would stroke his face even after they were done or admire him under heavy eye lids when she thought he wasn't looking.
After six months on board, The Job came in. The one that made little skiffs like theirs stand up and take notice and beg like dogs. If they could land this take, they would all become nearly rich, even Jayne with his small sliver of the profits. The night before it went down, Vera leaned in real close after they'd finished setting the sheets on fire and told him abut her plan.
"Seems to me Argus and this lot ain't done much to deserve this pot." Her breath spilled hot over his neck. "It's you and me what does most of the work."
"I dunno about that." Jayne said like he wasn't paying any mind though he was listening hard.
"It's true. And with Argus' sticky fingers. Well. Who knows how much of the bounty we'll actually get." One of her strong hands kneaded the back of his neck. "Think what we could do with the money split just two ways."
"And how do you figure on doing that?" He sat up, sheet spilling around his waist.
"We kill them." She smiled, her white teeth flashing in the dark. "I've wanted to do Argus for a long time anyway."
"I dunno." Jayne rubbed his palms over his knees. "Seems a bit severe. Couldn't we just strand them planetside or something?"
"We'd never be free then." Vera pouted. "Argus would never stop looking for us."
"Just seems a mite harsh, is all."
"Please, my love. For me?" She kissed him on the shoulder. His skin went cold and he looked away.
"Yeah. For you." He agreed.
The job went down smooth as butter. Argus was so pleased he nearly burst out of his clothes. He bought the entire crew a round of sake and stuffed a cigar between all their lips, even Vera. Jayne just chewed on the end of his, too nervous even to smoke it. Vera kept shooting him bedroom looks like she might change her mind about the whole plan and just go straight to her bunk with him in tow.
That was wishful thinking though. Soon as they hit the deck, Vera gave him the signal. He turned off his mind and started shooting. He was pathetically grateful that she took care of Argus. The rest of the crew had never been friendly to him, but he'd kinda taken a liking to the ugly gnome.
It was the first time that Jayne had stuck around to see the results of his handiwork. They didn't look no different than the animals he'd killed for food. A few careful bullet holes, but otherwise peaceful. The walls were spattered with blood, nothing that couldn't be cleaned away at a later date.
"You were amazing." Vera's eyes shone, her clothes spattered in blood. She licked her lips and started towards him, yanking on shirt.
"What are you on about?" He grabbed one of her hands even as the other wandered south.
"You know what violence does to me." She whined, writhing against him. "I want you."
It was true that she did get frisky right after she wasted someone. It had always made his skin crawl a bit, but he knew this was no time to say so. He let her undress him right there. They went at it in a frenzy, breaking things that had survived the fight intact and knocking over the table. Laying in the center of the carnage when it was all over, he heard the click of a safety before the cool barrel was pressed to his forehead.
"Sorry, bao bei." She smiled nastily. "You know how business can go."
"I reckon I do." Ready, he kicked her hard in the head. By the time she recovered, he had both his pistols in hand. "Shouldn't have laid it on so thick. Even a dumb kid like me can piece together when he's bein' led on."
"Don't do this." She pleaded, suddenly soft again. "I wasn't gonna shoot. Just scare you some and take off."
"Uh huh." Jayne stepped hard on her gun hand just in case she got any ideas, ignoring her shriek. "Even splitting in half would have been enough money for whatever you coulda asked for. You could have broken off with me, left me the money. Not like I woulda gone after you."
"Half would have been good. All is better." She bared her teeth at him. "And you would have chased after me. You got that way about you with women. Bet you would have panted after me for years. I like that in a man."
"I think you just like death." Jayne said slowly. "And I don't hold with that."
He shot her once in the head, once in the heart. The pistols were still hot when he holstered them, took the money and walked off the ship. He didn't know how to pilot the gorram thing anyway. Didn't want anything to remind him of her. Until years later when he'd picked up a nasty looking Callahan off the body of a man what tried to kill him. That gun wanted blood more than any other he'd ever owned. The name came real natural like.
After cleaning her blood off his hands, he went to the nearest bank and sent his Ma nearly all the money with a note:
Dear Ma,
I'm doing all right. My last job had a bonus which is what the money is. Please use some of it for flowers. Lilies for Ellie, Sunflowers for Shiloh.
I miss you.
Love,
Jayne
He'd wanted to put a lot more in there. Say a lot of other things, but he couldn't find the words. The money that would have lasted him several years would buy a lot of needfuls for the farm, so that would have to say it for him.
With the coin he'd kept, he bought himself passage to the other side of the Rim and went looking for work again. It was a pattern he'd become real familiar with: get a job, stay on it until real money came in, then abandon ship. He made far more enemies then friends. Gave up trust as something for suckers and settled his urges on honest whores. He tended to overpay the girls some which guaranteed him a warm welcome back. Sometimes that welcome had saved his hide. More then one time he'd laid real still under some perfumed bed while the law paced outside. Maybe the girls just knew where he'd come from or liked his giving style in bed because they always welcomed him in like he was more than just some John who tipped good. Every whore house reminded him a little of home and eased weight off his shoulders.
But he didn't form attachments, didn't kiss or visit one place too often. Just focused on the next job, the next kill and the next shore leave.
