Disclaimer: All belong to Joss. I got nothing but a dirty mind.

Characters: Jayne/Kaylee

Warning: Hard R for graphic sex, adult language and light D/s. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Setting: Post BDM

Word Count: 2,200-ish

A/N Prompted by a History Channel program on the development of artillery and my ability to take even innocent expressions and turn them into double entendres. It was one of those days...

X-Posted from my LiveJournal

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Fire in the Hole

My girl’s been runnin’ hot for days now, and I can’t seem to figure out what’s out of whack with her. I tried resetting the cooling jacket for the engine core, backin’ off on the reactor rods to damp her down, even venting some of the excess heat into the Black. While these all help some, they’ve all got their down sides, and the Cap’n’s got his suspenders in a knot over a bank job on Junia we can’t be late for, so I gotta keep tinkerin’.

For the past 24 hours, I’ve been recycling some of the excess heat into the ship’s atmo. Keeps us flyin’ but makes for a pretty miserable environment. It’s about 110 degrees and the menfolk are down to shorts, or, as in Jayne’s case, a pair of boxers. I ain't used to seeing’ a ship full of half-naked men wanderin’ about and they sure ain't helpin’ me cool off any!

River’s taken to wearin’ an short, airy blue gauze shift and even Zoë changed into a tank top, although she’s still wearin’ her pants and boots. Must be pure miserable. Me? I dug around in my stuff and found a little aqua cami comes about half down my ribs and the skimpy li’l pair of cut-offs I keep for goin’ swimmin’ when we’re dirtside somewhere’s with clean water. Oh, and flip-flops, cause bare feet in an engine room is askin’ for trouble. O’course, I got my hair all twisted up, just so it don’t smother me.

To top it off, the recovery unit that’s supposed to strip the humidity out of the atmo so’s we have plenty of bath and drinkin’ water ain't workin’ qu