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Title: Planning the Con
Characters: River/Jayne, Saffron
Rated: R for sexual situations
Summary: A brief interlude between our two favorite killing machines.
Spoilers: Through the beginning of Trash.
Planning the Con
She was stuck in a box.
She couldn't move her hands, she was pretty sure her left foot was permanently asleep and all the yelling in the world hadn't brought anybody to check it out. Which meant what? She was lodged in a soundproof box wholly reliant on one Captain Malcolm Reynolds to let her out.
She wondered how she could turn this to her advantage.
She smiled into the darkness. She knew exactly how she could use Malcolm Reynolds and his ship. She knew exactly how to dupe the honorable oaf.
It was genius.
Pure genius.
She rolled the name she'd be using on the borders of her mind.
Saffron. Saffron. Saffron.
It was a trick she'd been taught at the Companion Training House. Three times said is well remembered.
She'd found out early in life that forgetting the name you were using on a con led to all sorts of unpleasantness. It was rare indeed when a con turned sour that it ever came back around to bear fruit.
Yet the plan that unfolded in her mind with the delicate beauty of a flower belied that.
It was pure.
Perfect.
Saffron snorted quietly. The idiot would never know what hit him. He'd be cursing her name until ...
"Gorramit, girl! You tryin' to get us both killed?"
The very male voice startled Saffron out of her pleasant daydream.
"She couldn't wait for tonight. She burns for you."
Saffron tilted her head slightly. It sounded like they were standing right next to her.
There were some odd noises, a knowing male laugh and a squeal.
"Jayne!" The girl was practically panting.
Saffron rolled her eyes. Jayne. The merc. The one who had thought to trade her for a gun.
"Girl, you wearin' any knickers under there?"
"Noooo," a long breathy moan from the girl.
It bothered Saffron that she couldn't place her voice. She mentally ran through the females on the ship.
The Companion? Definitely not. Too refined to be rutting in the cargo hold of the ship. Besides which, Saffron doubted that merc could meet her price.
The Warrior? Saffron discounted her simply because the voice was too ... girly.
The Mechanic? Possibly. She had a certain sunny, childlike innocence about her that somehow fit with the youthfulness of the girl's voice.
Wait. There'd been another girl. She'd caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye her first time on the ship. A waiflike little thing with long brown hair. She'd never spoken. Even as the others had been clamoring to razz the captain about his new wife she'd stayed silent.
Come to think, after that glimpse in the cargo hold she hadn't seen the girl again.
It could very well be her.
Of course, they could have taken on more crew somewhere along the way. Or passengers. For all she knew the whole rutting crew could have changed.
Although the fact that merc was still onboard sort of made that last line of thinking null and void.
Besides which, the captain was too damn honorable to just ...
"Quiet, girl. You wanna bring the whole crew down here? The cap'n'll have my hide if he catches me sexin' you up in his cargo hold."
There was an inordinate amount of rustling that made Saffron cringe a bit (what were those two doing exactly?) before the girl answered. "She is sorry. She just gets ... pant, moan ... over stimulated."
Another of those knowing male chuckles.
"Well, I can definitely take care of that last part."
The crate Saffron had been stuffed into shuddered. Then there was some sort of wet, smacking noise that made her desperately wish that her hands were mobile enough to bang on the side of the crate to alert them to her presence.
More wet noises followed by two blissful moans that could only signal that they had become one flesh. Then the crate started to shudder in earnest. A nice rhythmical shuddering.
Even as Saffron cursed the stars that she couldn't get enough momentum with the limited amount of head movement she had available to her to bash herself into unconsciousness, she couldn't help but wonder if the girl the merc was rutting with really was the silent girl. If it was, that waiflike body sure could take a pounding.
The banging on the side of the crate began to pick up speed.
Saffron tried to distract herself by going over her plan again.
Between the moaning, the pounding and the groans she couldn't even remember what she was planning on stealing. Saffron resigned herself to riding out the storm.
After what seemed like forever, there was a muffled shriek, a heartfelt groan and a few last bangs and everything fell silent.
"Wo de ma, girl. You'll be the death of me," the merc panted out.
"She would not want that," came the mumbled reply. "She likes her Jayne warm and alive."
More rustling.
Saffron sent up a fervent prayer that they were putting themselves back together and not gearing up for another round. Fortunately for her ringing ears her prayer was answered.
"C'mon, girl. Let's get outta here before someone starts wondering what we've been doin'."
A small noise and their footsteps wandered away. Well, his footsteps left. Saffron couldn't hear the girl at all.
Sighing into the blessed silence, Saffron let herself settle bonelessly into her cocoon and refine her plan on how to con Malcolm Reynolds.
End.
..............................................
Chinese Translation:
wo de ma - Mother of Jesus
Characters: River/Jayne, Saffron
Rated: R for sexual situations
Summary: A brief interlude between our two favorite killing machines.
Spoilers: Through the beginning of Trash.
Planning the Con
She was stuck in a box.
She couldn't move her hands, she was pretty sure her left foot was permanently asleep and all the yelling in the world hadn't brought anybody to check it out. Which meant what? She was lodged in a soundproof box wholly reliant on one Captain Malcolm Reynolds to let her out.
She wondered how she could turn this to her advantage.
She smiled into the darkness. She knew exactly how she could use Malcolm Reynolds and his ship. She knew exactly how to dupe the honorable oaf.
It was genius.
Pure genius.
She rolled the name she'd be using on the borders of her mind.
Saffron. Saffron. Saffron.
It was a trick she'd been taught at the Companion Training House. Three times said is well remembered.
She'd found out early in life that forgetting the name you were using on a con led to all sorts of unpleasantness. It was rare indeed when a con turned sour that it ever came back around to bear fruit.
Yet the plan that unfolded in her mind with the delicate beauty of a flower belied that.
It was pure.
Perfect.
Saffron snorted quietly. The idiot would never know what hit him. He'd be cursing her name until ...
"Gorramit, girl! You tryin' to get us both killed?"
The very male voice startled Saffron out of her pleasant daydream.
"She couldn't wait for tonight. She burns for you."
Saffron tilted her head slightly. It sounded like they were standing right next to her.
There were some odd noises, a knowing male laugh and a squeal.
"Jayne!" The girl was practically panting.
Saffron rolled her eyes. Jayne. The merc. The one who had thought to trade her for a gun.
"Girl, you wearin' any knickers under there?"
"Noooo," a long breathy moan from the girl.
It bothered Saffron that she couldn't place her voice. She mentally ran through the females on the ship.
The Companion? Definitely not. Too refined to be rutting in the cargo hold of the ship. Besides which, Saffron doubted that merc could meet her price.
The Warrior? Saffron discounted her simply because the voice was too ... girly.
The Mechanic? Possibly. She had a certain sunny, childlike innocence about her that somehow fit with the youthfulness of the girl's voice.
Wait. There'd been another girl. She'd caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye her first time on the ship. A waiflike little thing with long brown hair. She'd never spoken. Even as the others had been clamoring to razz the captain about his new wife she'd stayed silent.
Come to think, after that glimpse in the cargo hold she hadn't seen the girl again.
It could very well be her.
Of course, they could have taken on more crew somewhere along the way. Or passengers. For all she knew the whole rutting crew could have changed.
Although the fact that merc was still onboard sort of made that last line of thinking null and void.
Besides which, the captain was too damn honorable to just ...
"Quiet, girl. You wanna bring the whole crew down here? The cap'n'll have my hide if he catches me sexin' you up in his cargo hold."
There was an inordinate amount of rustling that made Saffron cringe a bit (what were those two doing exactly?) before the girl answered. "She is sorry. She just gets ... pant, moan ... over stimulated."
Another of those knowing male chuckles.
"Well, I can definitely take care of that last part."
The crate Saffron had been stuffed into shuddered. Then there was some sort of wet, smacking noise that made her desperately wish that her hands were mobile enough to bang on the side of the crate to alert them to her presence.
More wet noises followed by two blissful moans that could only signal that they had become one flesh. Then the crate started to shudder in earnest. A nice rhythmical shuddering.
Even as Saffron cursed the stars that she couldn't get enough momentum with the limited amount of head movement she had available to her to bash herself into unconsciousness, she couldn't help but wonder if the girl the merc was rutting with really was the silent girl. If it was, that waiflike body sure could take a pounding.
The banging on the side of the crate began to pick up speed.
Saffron tried to distract herself by going over her plan again.
Between the moaning, the pounding and the groans she couldn't even remember what she was planning on stealing. Saffron resigned herself to riding out the storm.
After what seemed like forever, there was a muffled shriek, a heartfelt groan and a few last bangs and everything fell silent.
"Wo de ma, girl. You'll be the death of me," the merc panted out.
"She would not want that," came the mumbled reply. "She likes her Jayne warm and alive."
More rustling.
Saffron sent up a fervent prayer that they were putting themselves back together and not gearing up for another round. Fortunately for her ringing ears her prayer was answered.
"C'mon, girl. Let's get outta here before someone starts wondering what we've been doin'."
A small noise and their footsteps wandered away. Well, his footsteps left. Saffron couldn't hear the girl at all.
Sighing into the blessed silence, Saffron let herself settle bonelessly into her cocoon and refine her plan on how to con Malcolm Reynolds.
End.
..............................................
Chinese Translation:
wo de ma - Mother of Jesus
