The Play Date [Firefly - Wash & Jayne gen - G]
Title: The Play Date
Author: quiesce
Characters: Wash & Jayne gen
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Wash and Jayne belong to Joss.
Word Count: 1850 Words
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for Washathon. For little_dumpling who requested Wash & Jayne gen with friendly joking. Thanks to llaras for the beta, and to thunder_nari for running the ficathon and making sure that Wash gets the love he deserves.
Hour One
Flip. Flip. Switch.
Flip. Switch. Toggle.
Wash runs through a ship-wide systems performance check for the third time in less than an hour. Still nothing. Not that he wants there to be a problem, it's just that if there was something for him to work on, it would give him some way to pass the time. Some way that didn't involve--
"Boo!"
--Jayne. Wash jumps in his seat when a pair of large hands clap down on his shoulders in an (successful, Wash is sorry to say) attempt to scare him.
"Gotcha good."
"That you did, Jayne," Wash agrees, knowing that a pranking, pleased-with-himself Jayne is infinitely preferable to a sulking one. He's not sure how long they'll be stuck together, but it'll be long enough by far without adding moody Jayne into the mix.
"We'll be back in an hour," Mal had said. "Or three. Maybe five. We'll send a wave if we'll be more than six hours."
Surely they could use an extra set of eyes -- and guns -- on the job, Wash had tried suggesting. They really only needed one person to man Serenity in case a quick pickup and escape were needed, and Wash could handle himself if a boarding party tried to steal their cargo while they were docked.
Not even Zoe managed to keep from laughing a little at that one. "Sweetie, that cargo's worth more than we saw all last year. Might be best that Jayne stays back here with you."
Wash had backed down, although he'd be the first to admit that he'd been more afraid of Zoe's "do not argue with me about this, husband," tone than potential raiders.
Now, with an unknown number of hours ahead of him stuck on Serenity with no company but Jayne, Wash wonders if Zoe's tone was quite as scary as he'd thought at the time.
Wash gets an idea. He nudges a lever set into the floor with his foot and a number of lights start flashing on the console in front of him.
"What's wrong?" Jayne asks.
Wash starts pressing buttons and flipping switches in an order carefully selected to accomplish exactly nothing. "Oh, this isn't good."
"What is it?"
"Diagnostics just came in. The cargo weight distribution is all off-kilter and it's throwing the aft thrust mechanism out of balance. It's gonna all have to be moved to the other side of the cargo bay before we can take off. And they could be back at any time, so we need to take care of this now!"
Jayne sprints out of the cockpit and takes the stairs in a single leap. Then he stops in his tracks and spins around. "You ain't coming?"
"Nah, I need to monitor the situation from here. See if I can rig the forward drive to compensate. You go ahead; I'll let you know when you've moved enough cargo around. Go! Quick!"
Wash listens as Jayne clambers down to the cargo bay, then kicks the floor switch back into position. The console goes black as the warning lights turn off. Wash leans backs in his chair and shuts his eyes. This should earn him a few minutes' break before he has to worry about Jayne again.
Hour Two
They spend twenty minutes raiding the galley cupboards and pulling out everything that could be considered edible and then another five checking the cargo hold for forgotten food stashes before stepping back to look over their fare. The results are not promising.
"Any ideas?" Wash asks.
Jayne shakes his head.
Wash sighs and picks up a grease-stained paper bag. He sniffs at it, wrinkles his nose, and tosses the bag back onto the table, then makes his way over to the spices.
"I think we've got everything I need to make Husband Soup."
Jayne makes a face. “I ain’t eating your Husband Soup.”
“What’s wrong with my soup?”
“Husband Soup.”
Wash rolls his eyes. “Well, I guess I could make some of Zoe’s Wife Soup.”
“Wife Soup? That ain’t any better.”
“You make something then,” Wash retorts.
Jayne takes a quick glance at the foodstuffs in front of him. “What’s the difference?” he asks, resignedly.
“What?”
“What’s the difference between Husband Soup and Wife Soup?”
“Less salt, more cumin.”
“Could you add something else?”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, just... something. Make it different. Call it Crew Soup or something.”
Wash rolls his eyes again. “I guess so.”
“Alright, I’ll let you make me that.”
“Oh, well, thank you for your permission,” Wash says as he searches for a pot.
Hour Three
Wash runs a hand over the stash of firearms, picking up the occasional one to test its weight before returning it carefully to its designated spot.
Jayne scowls.
Wash settles on an oversized shotgun and holds it out, questioning.
Jayne mumbles.
“Hmm?”
“Jane.”
Wash laughs. “’Jayne’? You named a gun after you?”
“It ain’t spelled the same! And I didn’t name it; it came with the name.”
Wash puts Jane down and points to a small rifle.
“Skye,” Jayne says at Wash’s prompting glance.
“Perfect.” Wash grabs Skye with one hand and Vera with the other.
Jayne glares at him, suspicious.
“Hi, I’m Vera. What’s your name?” Wash speaks in a squeaky voice and moves his left hand about, walking the gun through the air. “I’m Skye. Do you want to be friends?” This time it’s Wash’s right hand and an even higher voice.
Jayne tries to snatch the guns away but Wash moves his arms out of reach and continues playing.
“’Oh, yes, let’s be best friends.’ ‘Do you know Tyrano Rex and Mr. Steg? They’re over in the cock pit. We could go party with them.’ ‘Or we could stay here and make out instead.’” Wash holds the guns up to each other, twisting them in his hands and makes kissing sounds while Jayne looks on, unamused. “’Oh, Skye.’ ‘Oh, Vera.’”
“You shouldn’t be playing with them like that,” Jayne growls.
“Why not?” Wash asks in between moans.
“Safety’s off.”
Wash drops the guns and they clatter to the floor as he jumps back. “Tian xiaode! Why didn’t you say that before?”
Jayne shrugs noncommittally. Wash runs his hands through his hair and swears under his breath. Jayne lets Wash panic for a few seconds longer before he starts laughing loudly.
“It’s not funny, hundan. What if they went off?”
“Said the safeties were off,” Jayne says, turning to head out of the room. “Didn’t say they were loaded.” Jayne walks off, his laughter drowning out Wash’s string of curses.
Hour Four
"One condition," Wash says, stripping out of his coveralls. "When we're done, I get to double my score."
"No!"
"Double my score or I won't play."
"Why should I do that?"
"You're roughly twice my size. It seems fair."
Jayne laughs as he tosses the ball to Wash. "Alright, little man, you're on."
Five minutes into the game of two-man hoopball and it's obvious that even with doubling points, Wash has little chance of pulling off a tie game.
"Triple my points?"
"Oh, I ain't three times as tall as you," Jayne protests.
The distraction's enough for Wash to make a breakaway and he runs for the hoop, ball in hand. Wash is about to jump when he feels Jayne's arms wrap around his waist. He braces himself, expecting to be tackled to the ground, and is surprised when he's lifted straight up in the air instead.
"Guaiguai long de dong?! What the hell, Jayne? Let go of me." Wash says, dropping the ball.
Jayne sets Wash back down, rougher than strictly necessary. "I was trying to help you, tian cai."
"By attacking me?"
"By helping you reach the hoop," Jayne says, his voice escalating with anger.
"What makes you think I need help?" Wash asks, matching Jayne in volume.
"Your score."
"Oh. That." Wash laughs and the tension between them is broken. "I guess you are winning by a slight margin."
"More than slight."
"Well, I'm calling that a foul. It's my ball again."
Jayne blocks the next shot easily, scores another point for himself, then tosses the ball back to Wash.
This time when Wash approaches the hoop, he calls out, "Jayne, gimme a hand. The guy blocking me is at least five times my height and I could use some help."
Jayne laughs, picks Wash up again, and walks him right up to the hoop.
"Score!" Wash cheers. "Good teamwork, good teamwork. Here, it's your ball again."
Jayne makes an easy one-handed toss through the hoop and throws the ball back to Wash.
"Alright, another team effort on this one." Jayne obliges.
When they're both out of breath and ready to call game over, Jayne's final score is still way out ahead of Wash's, but it's close enough that Wash would be the winner if he reminds Jayne that they agreed that his points get doubled. He decides not to point this out.
Hour Five
Mal worries when his comm attempts go unanswered, but his concern lessens when Serenity's back in sight. No signs of a raid, of an attack. If he knows his crew, Jayne has Wash tied up somewhere, giving him yet another lecture on the chain of command, or Wash has Jayne trapped in an airlock and is too busy mocking him through the window to answer.
He enters his code at an exterior access panel and the cargo bay doors slowly open. Zoe steers the mule on board and Mal follows on foot, checking for any signs that they were tracked back to the ship. The coast is clear.
They start unpacking their loot, wondering why all the cargo was rearranged while they were away.
Mal walks halfway up one of the staircases, the better for his voice to carry throughout the ship. "Jayne? Wash? Could use some extra hands here," he calls out.
"Down here, Cap'n," Kaylee says in a loud whisper.
Mal looks around and finds Kaylee on the stairs leading down to the infirmary.
"What are they doing over there?" Mal asks. He heads over to Kaylee, wanting to see what's keeping Jayne and Wash from helping with the cargo and prepping Serenity for takeoff.
Kaylee just smiles and points and Mal has to squeeze past her on the stairs. He heads automatically into the infirmary and finds it empty. It's not until he turns around to face the lounge that he sees them: sprawled out on one of the couches, fast asleep, Jayne snoring softly while Wash drools on his shoulder.
"Well, I didn't see anyone chasing us," Mal says after a minute. "Guess we can stand to let them sleep for a mite longer."
Mal heads back to the mule with Kaylee in tow. They relieve Zoe from unloading duty and point her in the direction of the lounge.
Zoe chuckles when she sees Wash and Jayne. "Poor little guys look all tuckered out. Must've had a big day."
She grabs a blanket from the infirmary and spreads it over the men, careful not to disturb them.
Author: quiesce
Characters: Wash & Jayne gen
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Wash and Jayne belong to Joss.
Word Count: 1850 Words
Warnings: None
Notes: Written for Washathon. For little_dumpling who requested Wash & Jayne gen with friendly joking. Thanks to llaras for the beta, and to thunder_nari for running the ficathon and making sure that Wash gets the love he deserves.
Hour One
Flip. Flip. Switch.
Flip. Switch. Toggle.
Wash runs through a ship-wide systems performance check for the third time in less than an hour. Still nothing. Not that he wants there to be a problem, it's just that if there was something for him to work on, it would give him some way to pass the time. Some way that didn't involve--
"Boo!"
--Jayne. Wash jumps in his seat when a pair of large hands clap down on his shoulders in an (successful, Wash is sorry to say) attempt to scare him.
"Gotcha good."
"That you did, Jayne," Wash agrees, knowing that a pranking, pleased-with-himself Jayne is infinitely preferable to a sulking one. He's not sure how long they'll be stuck together, but it'll be long enough by far without adding moody Jayne into the mix.
"We'll be back in an hour," Mal had said. "Or three. Maybe five. We'll send a wave if we'll be more than six hours."
Surely they could use an extra set of eyes -- and guns -- on the job, Wash had tried suggesting. They really only needed one person to man Serenity in case a quick pickup and escape were needed, and Wash could handle himself if a boarding party tried to steal their cargo while they were docked.
Not even Zoe managed to keep from laughing a little at that one. "Sweetie, that cargo's worth more than we saw all last year. Might be best that Jayne stays back here with you."
Wash had backed down, although he'd be the first to admit that he'd been more afraid of Zoe's "do not argue with me about this, husband," tone than potential raiders.
Now, with an unknown number of hours ahead of him stuck on Serenity with no company but Jayne, Wash wonders if Zoe's tone was quite as scary as he'd thought at the time.
Wash gets an idea. He nudges a lever set into the floor with his foot and a number of lights start flashing on the console in front of him.
"What's wrong?" Jayne asks.
Wash starts pressing buttons and flipping switches in an order carefully selected to accomplish exactly nothing. "Oh, this isn't good."
"What is it?"
"Diagnostics just came in. The cargo weight distribution is all off-kilter and it's throwing the aft thrust mechanism out of balance. It's gonna all have to be moved to the other side of the cargo bay before we can take off. And they could be back at any time, so we need to take care of this now!"
Jayne sprints out of the cockpit and takes the stairs in a single leap. Then he stops in his tracks and spins around. "You ain't coming?"
"Nah, I need to monitor the situation from here. See if I can rig the forward drive to compensate. You go ahead; I'll let you know when you've moved enough cargo around. Go! Quick!"
Wash listens as Jayne clambers down to the cargo bay, then kicks the floor switch back into position. The console goes black as the warning lights turn off. Wash leans backs in his chair and shuts his eyes. This should earn him a few minutes' break before he has to worry about Jayne again.
Hour Two
They spend twenty minutes raiding the galley cupboards and pulling out everything that could be considered edible and then another five checking the cargo hold for forgotten food stashes before stepping back to look over their fare. The results are not promising.
"Any ideas?" Wash asks.
Jayne shakes his head.
Wash sighs and picks up a grease-stained paper bag. He sniffs at it, wrinkles his nose, and tosses the bag back onto the table, then makes his way over to the spices.
"I think we've got everything I need to make Husband Soup."
Jayne makes a face. “I ain’t eating your Husband Soup.”
“What’s wrong with my soup?”
“Husband Soup.”
Wash rolls his eyes. “Well, I guess I could make some of Zoe’s Wife Soup.”
“Wife Soup? That ain’t any better.”
“You make something then,” Wash retorts.
Jayne takes a quick glance at the foodstuffs in front of him. “What’s the difference?” he asks, resignedly.
“What?”
“What’s the difference between Husband Soup and Wife Soup?”
“Less salt, more cumin.”
“Could you add something else?”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, just... something. Make it different. Call it Crew Soup or something.”
Wash rolls his eyes again. “I guess so.”
“Alright, I’ll let you make me that.”
“Oh, well, thank you for your permission,” Wash says as he searches for a pot.
Hour Three
Wash runs a hand over the stash of firearms, picking up the occasional one to test its weight before returning it carefully to its designated spot.
Jayne scowls.
Wash settles on an oversized shotgun and holds it out, questioning.
Jayne mumbles.
“Hmm?”
“Jane.”
Wash laughs. “’Jayne’? You named a gun after you?”
“It ain’t spelled the same! And I didn’t name it; it came with the name.”
Wash puts Jane down and points to a small rifle.
“Skye,” Jayne says at Wash’s prompting glance.
“Perfect.” Wash grabs Skye with one hand and Vera with the other.
Jayne glares at him, suspicious.
“Hi, I’m Vera. What’s your name?” Wash speaks in a squeaky voice and moves his left hand about, walking the gun through the air. “I’m Skye. Do you want to be friends?” This time it’s Wash’s right hand and an even higher voice.
Jayne tries to snatch the guns away but Wash moves his arms out of reach and continues playing.
“’Oh, yes, let’s be best friends.’ ‘Do you know Tyrano Rex and Mr. Steg? They’re over in the cock pit. We could go party with them.’ ‘Or we could stay here and make out instead.’” Wash holds the guns up to each other, twisting them in his hands and makes kissing sounds while Jayne looks on, unamused. “’Oh, Skye.’ ‘Oh, Vera.’”
“You shouldn’t be playing with them like that,” Jayne growls.
“Why not?” Wash asks in between moans.
“Safety’s off.”
Wash drops the guns and they clatter to the floor as he jumps back. “Tian xiaode! Why didn’t you say that before?”
Jayne shrugs noncommittally. Wash runs his hands through his hair and swears under his breath. Jayne lets Wash panic for a few seconds longer before he starts laughing loudly.
“It’s not funny, hundan. What if they went off?”
“Said the safeties were off,” Jayne says, turning to head out of the room. “Didn’t say they were loaded.” Jayne walks off, his laughter drowning out Wash’s string of curses.
Hour Four
"One condition," Wash says, stripping out of his coveralls. "When we're done, I get to double my score."
"No!"
"Double my score or I won't play."
"Why should I do that?"
"You're roughly twice my size. It seems fair."
Jayne laughs as he tosses the ball to Wash. "Alright, little man, you're on."
Five minutes into the game of two-man hoopball and it's obvious that even with doubling points, Wash has little chance of pulling off a tie game.
"Triple my points?"
"Oh, I ain't three times as tall as you," Jayne protests.
The distraction's enough for Wash to make a breakaway and he runs for the hoop, ball in hand. Wash is about to jump when he feels Jayne's arms wrap around his waist. He braces himself, expecting to be tackled to the ground, and is surprised when he's lifted straight up in the air instead.
"Guaiguai long de dong?! What the hell, Jayne? Let go of me." Wash says, dropping the ball.
Jayne sets Wash back down, rougher than strictly necessary. "I was trying to help you, tian cai."
"By attacking me?"
"By helping you reach the hoop," Jayne says, his voice escalating with anger.
"What makes you think I need help?" Wash asks, matching Jayne in volume.
"Your score."
"Oh. That." Wash laughs and the tension between them is broken. "I guess you are winning by a slight margin."
"More than slight."
"Well, I'm calling that a foul. It's my ball again."
Jayne blocks the next shot easily, scores another point for himself, then tosses the ball back to Wash.
This time when Wash approaches the hoop, he calls out, "Jayne, gimme a hand. The guy blocking me is at least five times my height and I could use some help."
Jayne laughs, picks Wash up again, and walks him right up to the hoop.
"Score!" Wash cheers. "Good teamwork, good teamwork. Here, it's your ball again."
Jayne makes an easy one-handed toss through the hoop and throws the ball back to Wash.
"Alright, another team effort on this one." Jayne obliges.
When they're both out of breath and ready to call game over, Jayne's final score is still way out ahead of Wash's, but it's close enough that Wash would be the winner if he reminds Jayne that they agreed that his points get doubled. He decides not to point this out.
Hour Five
Mal worries when his comm attempts go unanswered, but his concern lessens when Serenity's back in sight. No signs of a raid, of an attack. If he knows his crew, Jayne has Wash tied up somewhere, giving him yet another lecture on the chain of command, or Wash has Jayne trapped in an airlock and is too busy mocking him through the window to answer.
He enters his code at an exterior access panel and the cargo bay doors slowly open. Zoe steers the mule on board and Mal follows on foot, checking for any signs that they were tracked back to the ship. The coast is clear.
They start unpacking their loot, wondering why all the cargo was rearranged while they were away.
Mal walks halfway up one of the staircases, the better for his voice to carry throughout the ship. "Jayne? Wash? Could use some extra hands here," he calls out.
"Down here, Cap'n," Kaylee says in a loud whisper.
Mal looks around and finds Kaylee on the stairs leading down to the infirmary.
"What are they doing over there?" Mal asks. He heads over to Kaylee, wanting to see what's keeping Jayne and Wash from helping with the cargo and prepping Serenity for takeoff.
Kaylee just smiles and points and Mal has to squeeze past her on the stairs. He heads automatically into the infirmary and finds it empty. It's not until he turns around to face the lounge that he sees them: sprawled out on one of the couches, fast asleep, Jayne snoring softly while Wash drools on his shoulder.
"Well, I didn't see anyone chasing us," Mal says after a minute. "Guess we can stand to let them sleep for a mite longer."
Mal heads back to the mule with Kaylee in tow. They relieve Zoe from unloading duty and point her in the direction of the lounge.
Zoe chuckles when she sees Wash and Jayne. "Poor little guys look all tuckered out. Must've had a big day."
She grabs a blanket from the infirmary and spreads it over the men, careful not to disturb them.