A contiuation of my Jaylee story originally written for the lyric_ficathon on LJ. Prompt suggested by artemis_prime. The time to wrestle the angel is here and the night is quickly passing - from Jeffrey Foucault’s Thistledown Tears.

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The scream of the overloaded engine echoed in Kaylee’s ears as she hastily tightened bolts.

“Dan!” Monty’s voice yelled over the comm. “We need more power.”

Kaylee’s hand tightened on the wrench as she stepped carefully over Dan’s bleedin’ body to reach the grav boot.

She shook her head to clear the tears from her eyes, wishin’ she could go help her friend. But she had to hold the engine together first. If she didn’t they’d all be dead and she’d never see Jayne and the others again.

“Divin’!” the warnin’ shout bellowed even as The Falcon started tiltin’ worse than before. Kaylee quickly sat down and grabbin’ Dan’s shirt by the collar, wrapped her arm round the stanchion just in time.

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“Don’t see why Kaylee had to go with Monty.” Mal grumbled, helping Zoë with the crate. “There’s things she could be doing here.”

He couldn’t see why either, Jayne thought as he pushed his crate into place.

“It isn’t often she gets to talk to other mechanics sir.”

Or do other things. They all knew little Kaylee, engines and good-lookin’ men.

“She can talk to him when they’re here, can’t she?”

In plain sight. Where the hun dan wouldn’t be touchin’ her, Jayne’s hands clenched around the next crate.

“Getting her hands on another engine is always a drawcard for Kaylee.” Zoë smiled sardonically at the Captain, “and she likes to learn more how to keep Serenity flying.”

Kaylee liked to learn ‘bout fellas too, and they liked to learn ‘bout her. ‘Course that he could understand, who wouldn’t want her?

“If it helps Serenity and makes her happy.” Mal conceded. “She seem down to you lately?”

Jayne flushed guiltily and gorram near dropped the box he was