It had been more than a month since the monkey hump that the universe called Miranda, and things were still unsettled with the folks aboard Serenity.

Jayne closed his eyes and lay back in his bunk. His hand rubbed absently over the hair on his stomach and he let the image of her fill his head. There she was, just like that day.

Woozy with blood loss and jacked up on adrenaline from the fight, he coulda blamed it on a lot of things, but it wasn’t the worst he’d ever been shot up. Those blast doors had opened and she’d just stood there, that big pile of bodies all around her, and he couldn’t help it. His John Thomas had perked up more than a little. Before that moment, she’d been a bratty kid, a lot crazy, and dangerous to boot. His mind kept replaying that vision in his head, that and the following minutes, when the wall behind her crumbled and the light flared behind her, and she became his patron angel of violence. Reality had intruded just then, in the form of those gorramn feds.

He knew she was down in the infirmary helping out her brother, so she wouldn’t be picking up any stray thoughts, so he let his head relive the way she’d looked while his hand started getting real friendly down below. Soaked down with blood, her dress’d stuck to her with the sweat of battle, hair down around her face, and she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He’d always loved dangerous things. His mind did what his body had said to do that day, kneel at her feet, rubbing his face on her stomach and smelling his way up to her neck. He pulled her tight against his body and let her feel what her violence had done to him. Hands stroked up her thighs to cup her ass and pull that skinny little body against his. In his head, he felt her legs wrap around him and the world fell away as he carried her to the wall and drove into her again and again, both of them growling like animals fighting for dominance over the other.

When he came, he felt the stars behind his eyes wipe out her image, and he growled with the fa