REQUEST FOUR (?) for Dine: Firefly
Dine said:
Firefly - Simon/Jayne
jealousy/envy
compare/contrast their backgrounds
I've no idea if this will suit. But here it is.
Every Mother's Son
*******************
His mama was a whore.
Jeremy Jenkins taught him that word, first time they met. Jayne Cobb's mama was a fucking whore, he said, and Jayne's face had gone red with shame, white with rage even 'fore he knew what the word was.
When the other boys told him, his blood rushed in his ears and he knocked Jeremy down into the ground and got his hands 'round his neck. Made him try to learn how to breathe mud, even after the other kids went screaming for the teacher, crying that Jayne Cobb, the whoreson, was plum feng le.
That was Jayne's last day of school. His mama finished his letters and numbers at home and some of the men who came by taught him other stuff. Jeremy Jenkins , the little hun dan, never said shit about Jayne's mama ever again.
But the thing was, Jayne had found that once you learned something you couldn't unlearn it.
Made a boy suspicious of learning.
)0(
His mother always smelled of roses. Sometimes he thought that was his first memory of her, dark hair caught up in glittering twists and the scent of roses around her like a gossamer shawl. Tonight, half-asleep over his homework it was that fragrance that had first stirred him, made him sit up.
His mother's eyes were soft, and her hands were gentle as she soothed the sleep from his face, the cowlick of his hair. "It was time you were in bed, ai ren," she said, a smile in her voice, hiding in her eyes even as her mouth feigned seriousness. When she leaned in he saw the faint curve of her belly beneath her gown, and he sleepily reached out and touched it, making a circle.
"Goodnight, mama," he yawned; then, more softly: "Goodnight meimei!"
She led him to his bed, tucked the covers around him and kissed his eyes shut. When he slept he dreamt of roses.
)0(
Shepherd had dried the last of the apples. Jayne missed the sweet crunch of them fresh but dried apples was better than protein rations any day, so he grabbed a handful and chewed hard, stuck another few in his pockets for later. Simon came in as he was doing this, reading something; he paused in the door frame at seeing Jayne, then went and started to make something hot to drink. Jayne prickled, remembering the feel of the doc's chair beneath him, the way the young man had explained the status quo to him.
Jayne didn't have to like the little qingwa cao de liumang, but he was getting a healthy respect for him, of a kind. Though the sister was still bugfuck nuts. He finished off his mouthful, sat down, spread out his gear, started stripping and cleaning it. In the background he heard the whistle of boiled water, the sound of tea being made. Then silence. After a minute or two he looked up to see the doc staring at him, frowning slightly, tea in one hand, book in the other.
"What the hell are you lookin' at?" but it was almost friendly, really.
Simon gestured with the hand holding the book. "I was thinking that was quite a hat," he said.
Jayne tugged at the left ear flap, grinned. "My mother," he said. "Imagine your mama didn't knit much. Bought you hats and silk shirts and university educations and the like."
Simon's mouth got right thin, like a line, and he looked old suddenly, and tired. "My mother disowned me," he said at last, before taking his tea back to the infirmary.
Jayne fished a slice of apple out of his pocket, chewed thoughtfully.
Maybe next job, he'd buy his mama something pretty. Maybe something that smelled like flowers.
)0(
An End
I hope that is something like.
B
Firefly - Simon/Jayne
jealousy/envy
compare/contrast their backgrounds
I've no idea if this will suit. But here it is.
Every Mother's Son
*******************
His mama was a whore.
Jeremy Jenkins taught him that word, first time they met. Jayne Cobb's mama was a fucking whore, he said, and Jayne's face had gone red with shame, white with rage even 'fore he knew what the word was.
When the other boys told him, his blood rushed in his ears and he knocked Jeremy down into the ground and got his hands 'round his neck. Made him try to learn how to breathe mud, even after the other kids went screaming for the teacher, crying that Jayne Cobb, the whoreson, was plum feng le.
That was Jayne's last day of school. His mama finished his letters and numbers at home and some of the men who came by taught him other stuff. Jeremy Jenkins , the little hun dan, never said shit about Jayne's mama ever again.
But the thing was, Jayne had found that once you learned something you couldn't unlearn it.
Made a boy suspicious of learning.
)0(
His mother always smelled of roses. Sometimes he thought that was his first memory of her, dark hair caught up in glittering twists and the scent of roses around her like a gossamer shawl. Tonight, half-asleep over his homework it was that fragrance that had first stirred him, made him sit up.
His mother's eyes were soft, and her hands were gentle as she soothed the sleep from his face, the cowlick of his hair. "It was time you were in bed, ai ren," she said, a smile in her voice, hiding in her eyes even as her mouth feigned seriousness. When she leaned in he saw the faint curve of her belly beneath her gown, and he sleepily reached out and touched it, making a circle.
"Goodnight, mama," he yawned; then, more softly: "Goodnight meimei!"
She led him to his bed, tucked the covers around him and kissed his eyes shut. When he slept he dreamt of roses.
)0(
Shepherd had dried the last of the apples. Jayne missed the sweet crunch of them fresh but dried apples was better than protein rations any day, so he grabbed a handful and chewed hard, stuck another few in his pockets for later. Simon came in as he was doing this, reading something; he paused in the door frame at seeing Jayne, then went and started to make something hot to drink. Jayne prickled, remembering the feel of the doc's chair beneath him, the way the young man had explained the status quo to him.
Jayne didn't have to like the little qingwa cao de liumang, but he was getting a healthy respect for him, of a kind. Though the sister was still bugfuck nuts. He finished off his mouthful, sat down, spread out his gear, started stripping and cleaning it. In the background he heard the whistle of boiled water, the sound of tea being made. Then silence. After a minute or two he looked up to see the doc staring at him, frowning slightly, tea in one hand, book in the other.
"What the hell are you lookin' at?" but it was almost friendly, really.
Simon gestured with the hand holding the book. "I was thinking that was quite a hat," he said.
Jayne tugged at the left ear flap, grinned. "My mother," he said. "Imagine your mama didn't knit much. Bought you hats and silk shirts and university educations and the like."
Simon's mouth got right thin, like a line, and he looked old suddenly, and tired. "My mother disowned me," he said at last, before taking his tea back to the infirmary.
Jayne fished a slice of apple out of his pocket, chewed thoughtfully.
Maybe next job, he'd buy his mama something pretty. Maybe something that smelled like flowers.
)0(
An End
I hope that is something like.
B