Disclaimer: all things Firefly/Serenity are the property of Whedon et al. I’m not making any money off this, just playing with the toys. For the livejournal prompt “frostbite” (I may have taken a teensy bit of liberty with this one).

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The chill of the dawn had seeped into Simon’s frame. He’d spent the night camped out on the floor of the hold of the ship waiting for Kaylee to return, to apologise profusely over his words. He awoke with a yawn and gazed over at his sister sleeping next to him. He couldn’t help but smile. She’d had such a good time at the party, despite his fretting. She’d danced the whole night and had worn herself out completely. She hadn’t stirred at all when her brother had pushed back her hair from her face or had put a proper pillow under her head.

His eyes had narrowed, though, when he draped Jayne’s coat over River. He had been out there, with Kaylee.

Determined to speak with Kaylee, to get her to see reason over his mistake, he summoned his courage. Jayne could beat him to the end of time for all he cared. He wasn’t going to lose Kaylee, not after all the crew had been through.

Simon rose and stormed down the ramp. He was not going to play second to Jayne. He was not going to lose to a trained ape without the training.

The brave, rational thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he took in the tableau at the side of the ship. The air around him grew cold.

“You,” he began. “You...gorramn...hun dun. You God forsaken ta ma duh hun dun!” Shaking off the frost biting at his skin, he reached for Jayne’s collar and attempted to haul the man up. He succeeding in tearing the thin shirt.

“What the...?” Jayne’s groggy voice called. He blinked once then was up in an instant at the threat. He twisted Simon’s wrist, still clinging to the torn cloth, until the doctor squeaked in pain. “Don’t take very well to folks aimin’ t’duke it out so early in the morn,” Jayne’s voice breathed onto his face.

Simon blinked furiously, the heat of Jayne’s breath burn