A Little Faith

(Firefly Crossover)--2008 Shieldmaid

Jayne almost choked when the woman slammed through the swinging doors into the tavern saying something that looked like, fucking witch , but he couldn’t be sure since the gorram music was so loud he could barely hear the gorram barkeep asking if he wanted another whiskey.

But he could see just fine and he took every advantage of that fact, running his eyes back and forth over her like a six-seater mule at full throttle, reverse and forward. Forward and reverse.

Damn but she was one shiny, tasty interruption standing there in her desert boots in the middle of the filthy bar floor glaring around at everyone like she owned the damn place, hands on the wide belt holding low-slung black trousers tight to her slim hips. The short little strappy white shirt clinging to her did little to cover either the surprising strength of her bare shoulders or the boundaries of her equally impressive rack, and nothing at all to hide her taut flat belly; Jayne wasn’t positive, but he thought he could see the ripple of muscle there, as well.

And even if her body didn’t promise she had the means to make a hard man humble, the way her big dark eyes flashed around the room said she sure as hell knew how to make one sorry. They were fierce, those eyes, unblinking and surrounded by black eyelashes so long and thick Jayne could see ‘em from his seat at the bar, even around the lock of her long, dusk-colored hair that fell across her face. She was eyeing each person in the tavern in turn, like she was taking a bead on every single soul through a set of crosshairs. A merc, maybe. Or the angriest, scariest whore Jayne’d ever heard tell of. Whatever she was, he was damn sure glad he didn’t owe her money.

When her gaze fell on him, Jayne smiled at her. The smile didn’t last long when she rolled those pretty dark eyes and muttered something that looked , from where he sat, downright unneighborly. But then her attention snagged on