Six Senses

By Belasera

PG-13

Thanks to Talrius, whose description of Vera I used. I know zero about guns, so any mistakes are mine.

Things that aren’t mine: Jayne and Vera belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and of course the people (I use the term loosely) of Fox.

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Six men once came to kill me. The biggest of ‘em carried….her.

The ramshackle…shack, I guess, had one window. Covered with a tatty yellow curtain. Had little bitty flowers on it, sight of it reminded me of…oh, hell. Don’t matter none what it reminded me of. So, I was in the damn shack, lookin’ out the damn window through the damn yellow curtain. Straight at six men lookin’ damn angry.

“Come on out, you dirty hwoon dahn. Wanna have a chat with you.”

Yeah, I bet he did. Man talking big was Clyde Hammon. Before that particular mornin’ I had been in his employ. Damn good mornin’, it was, too. I’d woken up in a big soft bed next to a purdy little thing name of Emily Hammon. Lookin’ back, not my best choice ever. Still, not the worst. *That* might a been the words I chose when dealin’ with Pa Hammon and his posse.

“Nothin’ to chat about, Hammon. Ain’t my fault you got a fong luh daughter who likes to tumble with hired help. And ooh-boy did she like it!”

I couldn’t help but to grin as shots fired from six guns, though I found it a might bothersome that a few managed to rip through the hard wood of the wall. Ok, so probably I was gonna die, just me in a shack with one pistol. But maybe not. I was a good shot. Damn good. My pa liked to say I had a sixth sense about guns. Don’t rightly know what he meant by that, though. I shot things, things went down, simple as that. Pistol felt cold and certain in my hand so I peered through the curtain and took out one of Hammon’s men, real easy-like.

“You’re gonna die, Cobb.”

Well, I knew that already.

“I been thinkin’ Hammon, that the fault probably lies with the mother. ‘Cause, that woman…”

I had to stop a second, laughin’ at that tah mah de. I could he