“Some days are just bad days, son.”

Jayne starts where he’s laying on the cot in the infirmary. The lights are dim, so that he could sleep, and he blinks trying to figure if the words were anything more than just a whisper of memory. Deciding they must’ve been, he closed his eyes, willing the pain in his hip to quiet down again so he could get some shut eye.

Next time he opens them, it’s cause there’s a hand probing beneath his blanket, tiny fingers sending shooting pains through his left hip. Instinctively he circles it in a vise grip, his eyes narrowing on the intruder. Anger immediately gives way to confusion. “Crazy?”

“Hold yer fire.”

He drops her hand like it’s burning him, and scowls at her, trying to shake the sleep off. She sounded jus’ like Mal, and that ain’t right.

“What the gorram hell are you doin’?” Her eyes are dark, and he can’t see nothing there ‘cept a shimmer of blue light reflecting eerily. He can feel his skin crawling‘. “I asked you a question, girl.”

She‘s touching his elbow, tracing a scar gone almost invisible with age. Her voice is tiny, smaller ‘n he‘s ever heard it before. “I dare ya. I double dog dare ya.”

Now he was seriously creeped out. “Git! Go on back to yer own bed and lemme sleep.”

Quick as bird, she puts her hand flat on his stomach, and he reflexively sucks it in. “Coulda, woulda, shoulda.”

He pushes her hand away before he feel more than just a hint of her heat soaking through the thin cotton of his shirt. “Don’t give me any of that go se. Just ‘cause the Doc and Mal think yer crazy talk’s all sweet and innocent, don’t mean it is.”

“You callin’ me a cheat?” She asks, poking at his right shoulder, her drawl increasingly pronounced.

“No, I’m callin’ you crazy!” He swatted at her and she moves down the bed, out of his reach. “Jus’ cause I’m shot all to hell, don’t mean I can’t hurt you none.”

Her fingers trace tiny little circles over his right calf through the thin sheet. “Time for some thrilling heroics.”

“Ain’t time for noth