“Kids,” Jayne grumbled as, for the fifth night running neither of the Captain’s twin sons showed any signs of wanting to sleep. It didn’t help that Kaylee was having a problem with the shuttle’s environmental controls, and both he and River were forced to sleep in the cargo bay to avoid being baked. He’d refused to go back to his old bunk, saying a mercenary needed his rest, and a crying gorram baby weren't conducive to said rest. And now there were two of them.

“They’re teething,” River said, stretching out on the mattress.

“Don’t reckon I made all that noise when I was.”

His wife looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “No?”

“Riv, you gotta stop talking to my Ma!” he complained.

“Why?” She looked so innocent, lying there, her hair all spread out around her. Like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“’Cause she knows stuff about me’d ruin my reputation!”

“I think it’s too late to worry about that,” she said, smiling widely.

“I worked long and hard for that rep, and a little thing like you just comes along and everyone thinks I'm a … a …”

“A what, Jayne?”

“A peppermint puppy with a marshmallow centre!” It was the first thing that came to mind, and as soon as he said it he wished he hadn’t.

“Does that mean I get to eat you up?” she asked, a flash of mischievousness crossing her face.

“Well, ain't no-one else I’d let do it. Not now.” He gave her his best, lascivious grin.

“That’s good.” She stretched again, then wriggled.

“What’re you doing, girl?”

“Something underneath.” She fidgeted some more until an expanse of taut, creamy thigh was exposed.

“You keep doing that and I ain't gonna be held responsible for my actions.”

She stopped and looked up at him. “Doing what?”

“What you were doing.”

“What? This?” She wriggled again.

His eyes were drawn to the hemline of her slip raising ever higher. “Yeah. That’s it.” His voice had become deeper.

“And if I keep doing this …” She suited the action to the word. “… what are you going to do about it?”