Title: Dangerous Proposition
Fandoms: Firefly/Burn Notice.
Author notes: Thanks to deathisyourart for helping out a bit on my Jayne-isms. Written for sabaceanbabe
for her birthday in response to the prompt of "Jayne and Fiona together". I take all responsibilty to verb tenses as well as frog injury.
Jayne couldn’t help but notice the skirt as she entered the saloon. If her legs (and other parts) hadn’t attracted his eye, the three well hidden knives would have. Still, she had an air about her that pegged her as a likely brown coat, and that was something he wasn’t willing to tangle with no matter how hard the skin under the clothes made him. The War of Unification, they called it in the Core. It’d been going on a long three years now, and so far Jayne had managed to steer clear of conscription by either side. So he listened to the voice of reason (sounding more than a little like his Ma), and kept his head down and hoped to drink in peace.
“My friend stood me up.” The girl’s lilting voice carried more than a touch of Dyton Colony accent. Near border-world, already firmly on the Core side of the lines. “Be a shame to drink this all on my lonesome. Drink like this is meant to be shared, don’t you think?” she asked as she set down a bottle of decade old Cooley whiskey.
Jayne found it hard to leer at the girl and the fine spirits at the same time. “Gorram cryin’ shame for your missing friend.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll communicate my displeasure when I catch up to him.”
“A runner, eh?” Jayne poured his watered beer on the floor before uncapping the whiskey and filling the glass again. Ever the gentlemen, he offered the armed brunette a choice of the bottle or the glass. She didn’t hesitate in grabbing the bottle out of his hand and taking a very long draw. Jayne sipped as he appreciated the scenery of her long neck and chest moving as she swallowed. This skirt had danger written all over her. He wasn’t gonna to get distracted by the excitement of expensive whiskey.
“Fine weapon you got there.”
Jayne shifted Lola a little further away from the looker. “Don’t like discussing my firearms with strangers – no matter how good their booze or their ta tas are.”
She winked at him as she crossed her legs. “Fiona Glenanne, and you are?”
Fiona leaned across the table to top off his drink, giving him an even better look down the V-neck of her top. “Well, Jayne, man with a gun like that must know how to use it.”
“Ain’t interested in joining any other man’s war.”
“Neither am I, Jayne. However, I do love acquiring weapons and other gadgets to sell to folks making war. You aren’t opposed to profiting off war, are you?”
Jayne smiled and reclaimed his glass of whiskey. “Fiona, I ain’t opposed to profiting off nothing in this ‘Verse. What have you got in mind?”