based on the word of Firefly by Joss Whedon. OCs belong to those who created them.

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Chapter Ten

"No, now there's supposed to be technique in this," Jayne said, taking the horseshoe out of Declan's hand. "It ain't just a case of tossing the damn thing and hoping for the best." He squinted at Cat's mule taking up most of the space in the cargo bay. "A'course, we're more'n a little cramped."

"I didn't want it on board in the first place," Mal said, leaning on one of the cages. "If you recall."

"Then we'd have been toast," Declan pointed out. "Considering what you did."

Mal shrugged. "You can thank our little albatross for that."

"Albatross?"

"River."

"My wife," Jayne added, closing one eye and taking aim at the pin. "My moonbrain."

"Why do you call her that?"

"'Cause she is. River don't exactly have a strong hold on reality at the best of times." As if to make the point, the horseshoe slipped from his grasp and clanged to the deck. He bent down to pick it up, then wondered why the walls seemed to have taken on a life of their own as he straightened up.

"She's your wife and you call her crazy?" Declan shook his head. "That's ... crazy."

"No, it ain't." Jayne dropped a heavy hand on the young man's shoulder. "The Alliance did stuff to her. Cut into her brain. Made her into a weapon." His eyes glittered. "Shiniest weapon you've ever seen. That first time, in the Maidenhead ... gorramit, I was hard just watching her."

"Jayne," Mal said. "Too much information."

"S'true, though. Then when she grabbed me ..." He grunted a laugh. "Didn't know whether to kill her or strip 'er naked."

"That's my sister you're talking about," Simon said, but with little heat. "And you're lying."

For once the big ex-merc didn't take offence. "Mebbe I am. But the way she gutted them Reavers ... that was poetry."

Declan swallowed. "Did she ... really do that?"

"Standing there in that dress, axe in each hand, drippin' blood