08/08/2007: "Firefly Fic: Unnatural (but not unexpected) Attachment (Jayne/Simon, PG)"

Title: Unnatural (but not unexpected) Attachment
For: bkwyrm
Words: About 1700
Prompt: gun fetish. Also includes request to include the word defenestrate in one of the ficlets.
Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing.

It started when Mal got thrown out the window. It was a spectacular throw, but Simon, watching from outside, noted that Mal didn't know how to fall gracefully.

"Well, that went well," Inara muttered, as they watched Mal push himself up and brush off the dust. "Am I misremembering, or did we not specifically warn him about the defenestration tendencies in this area?"

Simon shook his head slightly. "Did you really think he listened?"

"Does he ever?"

Simon was about to answer when Mal reached them. Instead, he asked, "So, I take it you didn't make the sale?"

"Not exactly."

He wasn't looking at her, but Simon was positive that Inara was rolling her eyes. "What does 'not exactly' mean?" He pointed at the long, shallow cut along Mal's arm. "Do you need that taken care of?"

Mal barely glanced at it. "Nope. And what it means is that Jayne got a mite ornery while we were making the deal."

"I knew it," Inara muttered.

"Didn't figure the mark was good enough for the product."

"That man –" Inara started, but cut herself off. "I told you to take Zoe. Taking Jayne is just asking for trouble."

And right then, Simon knew what the problem was. Mal would have taken Zoe if Inara hadn't told him to. He didn't even need to look at Mal to confirm his suspicions, although when he did look, the set of Mal's jaw told him everything. "Do you two want to sell the Lassiter or not?" he finally asked.

"Yes," Mal and Inara said at the same time.

"Because we all agree we could use the money, am I correct?"

"Yes," they said again, momentarily glaring at each other.

"And let me just clarify – we also agree that Jayne has by now formed an unnatural – but not unexpected – attachment to the Lassiter and is therefore unwilling to simply let it go to anyone."

"Yes," said Mal. Inara just sighed.

"Good." He paused, looking at both of them. "Maybe you should let me handle this particular problem."

"No way is this your business –" Mal started, his voice already raised.

"Please, Simon, you know you don't have the contacts necessary for this kind of sale –" Inara sounded reasonable, calm.

Simon just crossed his arms and waited for them to finish. Eventually, they did, shutting their mouths and staring at him.

"Fine," Mal said, eventually. "We'll try it your way. Once."

"Let me know if you need any assistance," Inara added, graciously, her smile tight and false.

Simon smiled back.

*

First he had to deal with Jayne.

"It's just – ain't right to sell it to anyone, just 'cause he's got the money. Gun like that, it's too gorram special. Look!" He pointed at the barrel. "It's real slick lookin'. Shiny."

Simon looked. The Lassiter did seem to shine, even in the terrible kitchen lighting. "Yes, we're all impressed by its radiance, Jayne."

"Huh?"

"What I'm saying is, doesn't money shine too? Lots and lots of money?"

Jayne snorted. "Yeah."

"And wouldn't you rather have a cut of that money instead of a gun that doesn't work?"

"Bet Kaylee could fix it," Jayne muttered, before looking up from the gun. "Yeah. I would. I ain't never said I don't want to sell it. Just gotta find the right person."

Right. "A person who has money to spare, discretion, an interest in Earth-that-was, and a gun fetish strong enough to satisfy your urge to find a 'good home' for the Lassiter."

"Yeah."

Excellent. "I think I know just the person."

"What, you got that kind of thing written down in yer little book of friends?"

Well, amusingly enough, yes. "I do."

"Sure you do."

"It's true."

"How come you never said before?"

"Before," before Miranda, the Operative, and the rescinding of the arrest warrants, "I couldn't exactly approach her. Now I can."

"Her?" Jayne looked mildly interested now.

"Her," Simon confirmed, half-smiling. "I think she'll be very interested in acquiring our product. Though I can't guarantee that Mal won't get thrown out a window."

"Yeah," Jayne said. "But that's always good for a laugh."

Simon couldn't disagree.

*

The meet was actually surprisingly easy to set up. Simon was reluctant to go to Osiris, even though theoretically, he was no longer a wanted man. Osiris had too many associations, too many memories.

Thankfully, the buyer was more than willing to come to them.

"Do not interfere," he told Mal, when the meet location was transmitted. "She's touchy, she's rich, and it'll be best if you let me do the talking."

He'd pay for that later, but at least he'd have some money in his pocket when he did.

"Wow," Kaylee muttered later, as she watched the ship approaching.

Wow indeed, Simon thought. The ship made Serenity look derelict. Sleek and polished and obviously fast, it had to be brand new. Simon wondered if she'd bought it just for the occasion.

"Airlock seal confirmed," Zoe commed from the cargo hold.

Simon smiled. "Are you coming?" he asked Kaylee. "Maybe you'll get a closer look at that ship." He didn't have to ask twice.

*

"Gorram," Jayne mumbled, when the buyer walked through the airlock. She moved in an eye-catching way, and her pants rivaled Mal's in terms of tightness. She was an eyeful, and Simon smiled to himself. She knew how to work a room.

"How'd you say you know her?" Jayne asked, his eyes slightly glazed.

"Saved her husband after an accident," Simon replied. He still remembered looking up during the surgery and seeing her watching him. She'd pulled strings to be there, obviously. Or maybe she was the kind of person who always got what she wanted.

She got what she wanted that day – Simon saved her husband and got her gratitude, some rather odd gifts, and more than a few unwanted ass-pats. Over an expensive thank-you meal, she had spoken almost exclusively about her gun collection – more dear to her than any children ever could be – and how foolish her husband was to think that he could properly handle any of them.

Simon had eaten, nodded, eaten, and listened, coming to the conclusion that the absurdly rich were woefully dull and truly eccentric.

"Madeline," he said, stepping forward. "So nice to see you again."

"Simon," she replied, looking him up and down. "You look rather like crap."

Behind him, someone choked back laughter – he'd lay money on Mal – but Simon just smiled. "I see you haven't changed. Always the model of tact and civility."

"Are we going to stand around talking prettily at each other, or do you want my money?"

Well, he wanted the money, of course.

*

The hand-over was almost awkward. Jayne had the gun – having refused to give it to Mal, and no one thought it was really worth the fight – and as he handed it over, he started listing off specs. "This here gun ain't like any one of yer standard –"

"I'm aware of the gun's attributes, thank you," Madeline said, and launched into a litany of arcane terms that left Simon bored, Mal gaping, and Jayne grinning in a way Simon found frankly disturbing. She held out her hand.

Miracle of miracles, Jayne handed over the gun.

She was almost salivating, just looking down at the gun in her hand. Simon glanced at Jayne, noting he was almost salivating too, only he wasn't looking at the gun.

Simon took it as approval of the buyer. "Does it meet your specifications?"

Madeline looked up at him, one hand absently swiping at the corner of her mouth. "I believe it does." She snapped her fingers and a lackey stepped forward, a case in hand. "Your money."

He opened the case, let Mal approve it. "Excellent."

It went remarkably smoothly. Afterwards, Inara and Mal couldn't complain, particularly given that no one got thrown out of a window.

*

He found Jayne counting out money in the infirmary.

"This isn't a bank, Jayne."

"Light's good in here," Jayne replied, not looking up from polishing the money. "Shows off the shine real good."

"Of course. How did I not realize that?"

Jayne shrugged. "Dumbass, I guess." He put down one coin and picked up another. "Did good. Got the money, got a good home for the gun, and I got to see me some of the hottest ass I've seen in months. You ever sexed her?"

Simon nearly choked. "Ah. No."

"I woulda, right there in the cargo bay, iffin she'd asked."

"Wow. That's delightful, Jayne. I'm sad we all missed that."

"You coulda joined in. Woulda made a great way to seal the deal."

"I'm sure Mal would have jumped at the chance, too."

Jayne frowned. "Mal? That ain't likely."

Suppressing the urge to sigh, Simon set down his own bag of coin, his cut of the takings. It was a pleasantly heavy bag. "Are you going to polish each of those?" he asked, nodding at Jayne's money.

"Yep."

"And after?"

"Might do some celebratin'."

"And mourning?"

"What for?"

Simon grinned. "For the loss of the Lassiter?"

"Naw. That thing was just dragging us down."

It was a like a slap on the head. "Excuse me?"

"I just liked makin' trouble for Mal. And Inara. Man's gotta have some fun."

"Jayne, you –"

Jayne's expression was almost demonic. "Mal got thrown out a window. You shoulda seen his face just before it happened." His face twisted into surprise, shock, disbelief, and Simon couldn't help the laughter.

"But you agreed to my plan," he said when he caught his breath.

Jayne shrugged. "Were a good plan. And you ain't so much fun to bug these days. Anyhow, now I owe you one for getting us good coin."

How can Jayne possibly see that as a good thing? "I'm sorry, I don't –"

"I owe you. You keep staring at my ass ever since you and Kaylee called it quits –"

"I am not staring –"

"—an I figure this way we kin get to it without no pussyfootin'."

Momentarily, Simon was speechless. Then, "So you –"

"So I said yes."

"This is just a little bit –"

"Hot?" Jayne was counting each coin, putting them back in the bag.

"Surprising."

Jayne shrugged. "Man o' mystery." Standing, he gestured at the bed. "Wanna do it here?"

Simon knew he was gaping, and slowly, he pulled himself together. "Here?"

"Yep."

He looked around. The door locked, and he'd had retractable covers fixed over the windows a few months ago, when they had been repaired on Alliance credit. "Why not?"

End




	Home Archives August 2007 Firefly Fic: Unnatural (but not unexpected) Attachment (Jayne/Simon, PG) [Previous entry: "Firefly Fic: Once More, with Unicorns (Jayne/Simon, Crew; G)"] [Next entry: "Firefly Fic: Helpful Life Hints (Jayne/Simon, PG)"] 08/08/2007: "Firefly Fic: Unnatural (but not unexpected) Attachment (Jayne/Simon, PG)" Title: Unnatural (but not unexpected) Attachment For: bkwyrm Words: About 1700 Prompt: gun fetish. Also includes request to include the word defenestrate in one of the ficlets. Disclaimer: Clearly I claim no ownership to the Firefly 'verse or its characters; nor am I making money from this fic writing thing. It started when Mal got thrown out the window. It was a spectacular throw, but Simon, watching from outside, noted that Mal didn't know how to fall gracefully. "Well, that went well," Inara muttered, as they watched Mal push himself up and brush off the dust. "Am I misremembering, or did we not specifically warn him about the defenestration tendencies in this area?" Simon shook his head slightly. "Did you really think he listened?" "Does he ever?" Simon was about to answer when Mal reached them. Instead, he asked, "So, I take it you didn't make the sale?" "Not exactly." He wasn't looking at her, but Simon was positive that Inara was rolling her eyes. "What does 'not exactly' mean?" He pointed at the long, shallow cut along Mal's arm. "Do you need that taken care of?" Mal barely glanced at it. "Nope. And what it means is that Jayne got a mite ornery while we were making the deal." "I knew it," Inara muttered. "Didn't figure the mark was good enough for the product." "That man –" Inara started, but cut herself off. "I told you to take Zoe. Taking Jayne is just asking for trouble." And right then, Simon knew what the problem was. Mal would have taken Zoe if Inara hadn't told him to. He didn't even need to look at Mal to confirm his suspicions, although when he did look, the set of Mal's jaw told him everything. "Do you two want to sell the Lassiter or not?" he finally asked. "Yes," Mal and Inara said at the same time. "Because we all agree we could use the money, am I correct?" "Yes," they said again, momentarily glaring at each other. "And let me just clarify – we also agree that Jayne has by now formed an unnatural – but not unexpected – attachment to the Lassiter and is therefore unwilling to simply let it go to anyone." "Yes," said Mal. Inara just sighed. "Good." He paused, looking at both of them. "Maybe you should let me handle this particular problem." "No way is this your business –" Mal started, his voice already raised. "Please, Simon, you know you don't have the contacts necessary for this kind of sale –" Inara sounded reasonable, calm. Simon just crossed his arms and waited for them to finish. Eventually, they did, shutting their mouths and staring at him. "Fine," Mal said, eventually. "We'll try it your way. Once." "Let me know if you need any assistance," Inara added, graciously, her smile tight and false. Simon smiled back. * First he had to deal with Jayne. "It's just – ain't right to sell it to anyone, just 'cause he's got the money. Gun like that, it's too gorram special. Look!" He pointed at the barrel. "It's real slick lookin'. Shiny." Simon looked. The Lassiter did seem to shine, even in the terrible kitchen lighting. "Yes, we're all impressed by its radiance, Jayne." "Huh?" "What I'm saying is, doesn't money shine too? Lots and lots of money?" Jayne snorted. "Yeah." "And wouldn't you rather have a cut of that money instead of a gun that doesn't work?" "Bet Kaylee could fix it," Jayne muttered, before looking up from the gun. "Yeah. I would. I ain't never said I don't want to sell it. Just gotta find the right person." Right. "A person who has money to spare, discretion, an interest in Earth-that-was, and a gun fetish strong enough to satisfy your urge to find a 'good home' for the Lassiter." "Yeah." Excellent. "I think I know just the person." "What, you got that kind of thing written down in yer little book of friends?" Well, amusingly enough, yes. "I do." "Sure you do." "It's true." "How come you never said before?" "Before," before Miranda, the Operative, and the rescinding of the arrest warrants, "I couldn't exactly approach her. Now I can." "Her?" Jayne looked mildly interested now. "Her," Simon confirmed, half-smiling. "I think she'll be very interested in acquiring our product. Though I can't guarantee that Mal won't get thrown out a window." "Yeah," Jayne said. "But that's always good for a laugh." Simon couldn't disagree. * The meet was actually surprisingly easy to set up. Simon was reluctant to go to Osiris, even though theoretically, he was no longer a wanted man. Osiris had too many associations, too many memories. Thankfully, the buyer was more than willing to come to them. "Do not interfere," he told Mal, when the meet location was transmitted. "She's touchy, she's rich, and it'll be best if you let me do the talking." He'd pay for that later, but at least he'd have some money in his pocket when he did. "Wow," Kaylee muttered later, as she watched the ship approaching. Wow indeed, Simon thought. The ship made Serenity look derelict. Sleek and polished and obviously fast, it had to be brand new. Simon wondered if she'd bought it just for the occasion. "Airlock seal confirmed," Zoe commed from the cargo hold. Simon smiled. "Are you coming?" he asked Kaylee. "Maybe you'll get a closer look at that ship." He didn't have to ask twice. * "Gorram," Jayne mumbled, when the buyer walked through the airlock. She moved in an eye-catching way, and her pants rivaled Mal's in terms of tightness. She was an eyeful, and Simon smiled to himself. She knew how to work a room. "How'd you say you know her?" Jayne asked, his eyes slightly glazed. "Saved her husband after an accident," Simon replied. He still remembered looking up during the surgery and seeing her watching him. She'd pulled strings to be there, obviously. Or maybe she was the kind of person who always got what she wanted. She got what she wanted that day – Simon saved her husband and got her gratitude, some rather odd gifts, and more than a few unwanted ass-pats. Over an expensive thank-you meal, she had spoken almost exclusively about her gun collection – more dear to her than any children ever could be – and how foolish her husband was to think that he could properly handle any of them. Simon had eaten, nodded, eaten, and listened, coming to the conclusion that the absurdly rich were woefully dull and truly eccentric. "Madeline," he said, stepping forward. "So nice to see you again." "Simon," she replied, looking him up and down. "You look rather like crap." Behind him, someone choked back laughter – he'd lay money on Mal – but Simon just smiled. "I see you haven't changed. Always the model of tact and civility." "Are we going to stand around talking prettily at each other, or do you want my money?" Well, he wanted the money, of course. * The hand-over was almost awkward. Jayne had the gun – having refused to give it to Mal, and no one thought it was really worth the fight – and as he handed it over, he started listing off specs. "This here gun ain't like any one of yer standard –" "I'm aware of the gun's attributes, thank you," Madeline said, and launched into a litany of arcane terms that left Simon bored, Mal gaping, and Jayne grinning in a way Simon found frankly disturbing. She held out her hand. Miracle of miracles, Jayne handed over the gun. She was almost salivating, just looking down at the gun in her hand. Simon glanced at Jayne, noting he was almost salivating too, only he wasn't looking at the gun. Simon took it as approval of the buyer. "Does it meet your specifications?" Madeline looked up at him, one hand absently swiping at the corner of her mouth. "I believe it does." She snapped her fingers and a lackey stepped forward, a case in hand. "Your money." He opened the case, let Mal approve it. "Excellent." It went remarkably smoothly. Afterwards, Inara and Mal couldn't complain, particularly given that no one got thrown out of a window. * He found Jayne counting out money in the infirmary. "This isn't a bank, Jayne." "Light's good in here," Jayne replied, not looking up from polishing the money. "Shows off the shine real good." "Of course. How did I not realize that?" Jayne shrugged. "Dumbass, I guess." He put down one coin and picked up another. "Did good. Got the money, got a good home for the gun, and I got to see me some of the hottest ass I've seen in months. You ever sexed her?" Simon nearly choked. "Ah. No." "I woulda, right there in the cargo bay, iffin she'd asked." "Wow. That's delightful, Jayne. I'm sad we all missed that." "You coulda joined in. Woulda made a great way to seal the deal." "I'm sure Mal would have jumped at the chance, too." Jayne frowned. "Mal? That ain't likely." Suppressing the urge to sigh, Simon set down his own bag of coin, his cut of the takings. It was a pleasantly heavy bag. "Are you going to polish each of those?" he asked, nodding at Jayne's money. "Yep." "And after?" "Might do some celebratin'." "And mourning?" "What for?" Simon grinned. "For the loss of the Lassiter?" "Naw. That thing was just dragging us down." It was a like a slap on the head. "Excuse me?" "I just liked makin' trouble for Mal. And Inara. Man's gotta have some fun." "Jayne, you –" Jayne's expression was almost demonic. "Mal got thrown out a window. You shoulda seen his face just before it happened." His face twisted into surprise, shock, disbelief, and Simon couldn't help the laughter. "But you agreed to my plan," he said when he caught his breath. Jayne shrugged. "Were a good plan. And you ain't so much fun to bug these days. Anyhow, now I owe you one for getting us good coin." How can Jayne possibly see that as a good thing? "I'm sorry, I don't –" "I owe you. You keep staring at my ass ever since you and Kaylee called it quits –" "I am not staring –" "—an I figure this way we kin get to it without no pussyfootin'." Momentarily, Simon was speechless. Then, "So you –" "So I said yes." "This is just a little bit –" "Hot?" Jayne was counting each coin, putting them back in the bag. "Surprising." Jayne shrugged. "Man o' mystery." Standing, he gestured at the bed. "Wanna do it here?" Simon knew he was gaping, and slowly, he pulled himself together. "Here?" "Yep." He looked around. The door locked, and he'd had retractable covers fixed over the windows a few months ago, when they had been repaired on Alliance credit. "Why not?" End