Superfail! (aliaspiral) wrote,

Firefly Ficlet: Gifts for the Giving

Title: Gifts for the Giving
Author: alianora
Rating: PG
Summery: bugchicklv’s fault! All of it! Its kinda sugary. you might need your toothbrush.

It had been a really long day.

Jayne fidgeted against the wall where he was leaning. His leg was hurting something bad, but he tried to ignore it as best he could.

What the hell was taking her so long? Shouldn’t little crazy girls be tucked in all cozy and proper by now?

Especially after she pulled off whatever the hell crazy rescue she managed to come up with when Mal’s plan went south.

Jayne pressed his fingers into his thigh and scowled.

Damn Mal, always thinking his plans had a chance in the ass end of hell in working.

It got bad. Real bad.

He was gonna have to go sit real soon, or else he might be sleeping on the floor. He shifted with a grunt, trying not to think about how close it came today.

But then, she was there somehow, and she was fast and crazy and dangerous. And then all the bad guys were all dead, and she was standing there not even breathing that hard.

He had seen the fight in the Maidenhead, and the after of the Reavers, but this was something else. She hadn’t been triggered, her brother wasn’t there to be gut shot, but there she was anyway.

And so here he was, standing in the dark, waiting for the gorram girl to go to bed, so he could make sure of something.

He sighed, trying to take more of the weight off his bad leg.

Her step was so light, he almost didn’t hear it over the dull throb of pain in his head. But she was coming down the hallway, finally. And even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he held his breath and tried to press back more against the wall.

Her door slid open, and he could barely seen her skinny little self slip into her room.

He waited impatiently

It wouldn’t be long now.

She had to see it. It weren’t like he hid it or nothing. It was sitting there, plain as day on her bed.

He took a couple of limping steps closer, to see if he could hear anything. Her light was still on, so she was still awake.

But he couldn’t tell nothing with her door shut. He hesitated. If she didn’t want him busting in there, he’d know real quick. And real painfully.

He rolled his eyes and knocked.

His momma would be proud.

But then he leg cramped up something awful, and he just wanted to know, so he went on and flung open the door without waiting to hear her answer.

And there she was, sitting on her bed, with Vera pointed straight at him.

It would figure he’d go out like this. Shot by his very favorite gun by a crazy girl who saved his ass a couple of hours ago.

He woulda probably raised his hands too, but they and the door frame were the only things keeping him standing, so instead, he just shrugged. “Hey.”

Crazy girls with big guns shouldn’t make noises quite that loud, so it weren’t his fault he flinched back and lost his balance. Which resulted him somehow in landing on his ass and getting a lapful of gun and girl.

Ordinarily, he’d be pretty rutting happy with this situation, but the girl had her knee almost in his crotch, and Vera was jamming into his injured thigh.

It weren’t the most comfortable thing ever, but he really didn’t think he could shift her at the moment. So he just patted her on the head and hoped she got over the fit she was having quick.

She scooted closer and he tried not to whimper at the pain her shifting caused.

“You gave her gifts and she is showing her appreciation,” she scolded into his chest. “Stop moving.”

“Girl, you’re undoing all that nice saving you did earlier,” he managed to grit out around the blinding agony.

Suddenly, his lap was empty again, and he blinked at the little bitty girl hugging on a big ole gun kneeling in front of him.

She looked shy, and she hugged Vera to her tighter. “It’s harder, when it’s me.”

“’Stead of the oaty bar?”

She nodded, eyes on the red string tied carefully around Vera’s trigger guard. “Was worried I wouldn’t make it.”

“Well,” he said inanely. “You did.” He realized he was looking at her, and hurriedly looked down at his own hands. “I ran outta clips, and Mal and Zoë went down, and I weren’t sure…” he shook his head. “It don’t matter none. You deserve it, is all.”

“But,” she bit her lip. “Your very favorite. She is very special.”

“Yeah,” he looked up at her again. “She is.”

Tags: firefly fic

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →
← Ctrl ← Alt
Ctrl → Alt →