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Scaredy Cat

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This story is No. 10 in the series "Wishlist 2011". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: He wasn’t hiding. Why would he be hiding? It wasn’t like he was scared, or anything…

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Firefly > Non-BtVS/AtS StoriesMissEFR151775172,9019 Dec 119 Dec 11Yes
Disclaimer: Don’t own or claim rights to Firefly


Jayne was in his bunk. He wasn’t hiding, ‘cause that would say that he was scared of … something, which he wasn’t. There weren’t no one in this ‘verse he was scared of, ‘cept maybe the Captain when he was in one of his snits. Or maybe Zoë, that woman was scary. Moon-brain, of course, was a killer made, and would stick a knife in you just ‘cause she didn’t like the colour of your shirt. And no one with a brain wouldn’t be scared of Nishka. But that was it, there weren’t no one else as scared him.

Jayne was so deep in his funk he almost didn’t hear his cabin door open. He watched nervously as Simon climbed down the ladder, and looked around.

“So this is where you’re hiding,” Simon observed.

“Ain’t hidin’,” Jayne grumbled.

“Really,” Simon asked sardonically.

“Really,” Jayne growled.

Simon nodded absently. “So I assume there’s a reason you’re … lurking in your room, rather than talking to me?”

Jayne smirked. “Didn’t think what we did was talkin’.”

Simon rolled his eyes. “You’re trying to side-track me, and it’s not going to work, Jayne.” He moved to sit on the bunk beside the larger man. “Tell me what the problem is,” he whispered.

Jayne scrunched up into the corner of his bunk. “Ain’t no problem,” he muttered. He looked up, and saw the disbelieving expression on Simon’s face. His lover’s face. He sighed. “I ain’t good with words. They ain’t the things I’m good with. Give me a gun, a knife, somethin’ I can hold and kill someone with, and I’m one of the best. I could track you ‘cross a planet, set up a ambush, take you out with no problems; hell, it’s how I got on Serenity in the first gorram place. But words? I figure they’re more your kind o’ thing.”

Simon sucked on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I guess I am better with words than some. I’m much better with a scalpel,” he added with a small smile. “But if I wanted ‘fancy’ words I would … actually,” he frowned, “I’m not sure what I’d do, considering where we are.” He considered his lover for a long moment. “Just … tell me simply. I think I know you well enough to understand what you’re trying to say, and if I can’t, then I can just ask.”

Jayne shifted uncomfortably, and Simon was becoming worried about whatever it was that was bothering the huge mercenary. Finally, he took a breath to speak. “There ain’t many I care for,” he began. “Me Ma, a man’s always goin’ a love his Ma.” He thought for a moment, and added, “Got family, brothers and sisters, guess I love them, too. Never had a woman I cared for much more ‘an the sexin’, nor no boy, neither. Not till you,” he added quietly.

Simon stiffened, his breath caught in his chest. “Jayne, I … you…”

Jayne smiled suddenly, a little shyly. “Thought you were the one with the words.”

“And I am,” Simon returned immediately. “If you were to have a cardiac infarction, I would be able to describe it in minute detail even as I was rectifying the situation. But this … I…”

“Is … is it goin’ a be a problem?” Jayne asked nervously.

Wuh de ma, Jayne,” Simon shook his head urgently, crawling forward to sit beside the larger man, “no, never a problem. I just … I’m just as bad with words as you, in my own way,” he added with a half-smile.

“A pair of gorram fools, is what we are,” Jayne nodded, putting an arm around the smaller man. “Least we got taste,” he added, grinning.

Simon laughed. “That we do. We are, though, perhaps a little uncomfortable,” he mused. “I don’t know about you, but I find this wall a little hard,” he added, shifting a little. “And perhaps we’re a little over-dressed?” he suggested.

Jayne smirked, and dropped his arm to around his love’s waist, lifting him a little as he shifted down the bed. He laid Simon out on the bed, and shifted to lay beside him, resting his hand on the waistband of Simon’s pants. “Wearin’ too much, are we?”

Simon smiled. “Yes, I rather think we are.”

“Best do somethin’ ‘bout that, then, oughtn’t we,” Jayne leered.

Simon laughed, winding his arms around Jayne’s strong, strong neck. “We’re two men in love,” he grinned. “I do believe we should.”

Jayne beamed at Simon, and decided to reward the man he loved, who loved him, with a kiss. Maybe he weren’t an eloquent man, but he managed to get his message across, after all.

The End

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