In which Jayne gets maudlin, Simon gets a nasty surprise, and Kaylee just keeps on worryin'. Sorry this has taken a little longer to post than the other parts, but I'm back at work now and it always gets in the way of fun!

6

“Swear to ya, Mal,” Jayne said, shaking his head inside his helmet. “We get outta this, I’m takin’ me some shore time.”

“You were thinkin’ maybe Trinity Station?” Zoe said.

“Was I ever.”

“That’s all future,” Mal said. “Focus on what’s right in front. And don’t talk – save your air. Might yet need it.”

Silence descended once more. They had powered down their suit lights, to conserve battery life for the respirator packs, and the hold was in near darkness, illuminated only by the soft blue glow of the airlock panel.

“Wish the preacher was still here.”

“Jayne, I said no talkin’.”

Mal didn’t like mentions of Book, ‘specially not from Jayne, and ‘specially not now. Mostly since it raised the issue of death, which, though hangin’ in the air, was somethin’ to be avoided sooner’n harped upon.

Jayne, though, seemed determined to get harpin’. “Kinda miss that old man now. Had a quiet way ‘bout him. Lived right. Talked sense. Had ta respect that. Plus, he pumped more iron’n a man twice his beef… An’ for a man a’ God, he sure as hell knew his way ‘round a firearm.”

“Best kind,” Zoe said. Mal could just make out her blue-lit form, sitting calmly against the bulkhead, knees drawn up, arms folded on top. She looked settled in, and he wished that Jayne would follow her example.

Didn’t seem like he was about to, though. “Dyin’ don’t scare me. Expect it sooner or later, this kinda life. Faced it down more’n once already – had eight guns on me one time. Been holed an’ cut on more’n I care ta recall. Hell, we had no gorram right getting’ past them Reavers before, but we did, an’ they was close enough ta spit on.”

Mal wondered what he’d done to deserve a day like this. First a treacherous Ossie, then a vengeful Niska, and now a philosophical Jayne.

“Ain’t dyin’ bugs me,