The big man was on his hands and knees on the bare floor, naked. His belt and holster were strapped on, but he could tell by the feel that the gun wasn't loaded, and there were no bullets in the belt loops.

The young woman was wearing a collection of black leather straps held together by silver studs. It matched her dark hair and made a contrast with her pale skin. It there had been more of it, and it had covered different areas of her body, areas currently uncovered, it might have been clothing. The whip she was carrying, though small, looked effective and painful.

She spoke. "You sold us out back there. Why did you do that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." She lashed him a couple of strokes. He could tell it wasn't going to do any real damage, but IT HURT.

"Ouch!. Arright, I did."

"Why?"

"I ain't proud of it. The money was too good. I got stupid. Real stupid."

She waited, twitching the whip gently. He looked up at her. She gave him a LOOK, one of her specialties, a look he had seen before, a look that screamed out, " DUMMY!"

He hesitated. "I--uh, I reckon I'm sorry--" The whip gave 2 quick strokes. "I am sorry, gorrammit! and I won't, uh, do it again--" A quick lash cut him off. "Ever. I promise."

"Forgiveness is good. You are given a chance to earn forgiveness."

He glanced up, a wicked grin forming on his face. There was a strange, dreamy look on her face, and she was looking at him to see if he got the hint. He crawled forward, mumbling about "never kissin' 'em on the mouth," then applied his lips, and tongue to her body. She continued to beat him, with increasing lack of effect. She began to whimper, then moan, then cried out and was silent. "Your turn, " she whispered.

He reached up and gently pushed her over onto her back, then began to climb on top of her--

* * * * * *

Jayne woke, alone in his bunk and sweating profusely...