jebbypal: (bn fiona call)
Title: Volatile Compounds
Fandoms: Firefly/Burn Notice.
Related story: Dangerous Propositions
Author notes: So, [livejournal.com profile] sabaceanbabe, her hubby and I were rewatching some Burn Notice tonight and I've been feeling like writing. As a result, Fi was kicking around in my head, and I decided to start a companion piece telling her side of Dangerous Propositions. Un-betaed in order to stimulate the frog into doing something (anything. ANYTHING).

Fi enters a bar )
jebbypal: (Default)
Back by popular demand....

“Stay with the shuttle? And do what?”

Fiona sighed, causing Jayne’s hands to spasm. It was instinct to look for an impending fight when she got frustrated. “And be ready, Jayne. When I get Michael, we may have to leave fast.”

“Me being on the shuttle won’t help that. I ain’t no gorram pilot.”

“You’re not a lot of things, Jayne, but take-off from a planet isn’t that difficult. And if Michael or I aren’t there to land it, well, piloting will be the least of your problems.” Her words carry a lot more than a warning about heat from the Feds. As much as he knows she likes to work on her own, he’s also learned that she carries a special grudge for anyone who leaves her behind. Like say, one Michael Westen. “If anything comes up, I’ll wave you for tactical support,” she says in parting.

Jayne throws his weight into the pilot seat in protest. Figures, a classic Fiona-shaped explosion in the making and he has to sit here and listen to it instead of being involved in the fun. Better make sure all the guns are loaded just in case she underestimates the amount of resistance from the local authorities. Or the amount of coin that the pimp wants for keeping Westen breathing and out of the clink.

The cortex buzzes loud enough to almost make him drop Suzy, his pistol. “Gorramit, I tried to tell her-“ he stops when a purple uniform fills the screen instead of Fiona’s angry visage. The uniform ends in the old man’s full gizzard. Sam Axe, he remembers now.

“Where the hell is Fiona? And where are you two at?” Sam demands.

“Don’t think that’s any of your business.”

“Gorramit, Cobb, I don’t know what that damn Dyton woman is up this time, but the alerts are lighting up like she’s staging a coup in Londinium. Whatever she’s planning, tell her to stop it. And to stay the hell off Hera.”

Jayne’s fingers are twitching again. And his bowels feel a lot like they did right before he acquired Vera. “Why?”

“Because there’s about to be a full-scale assault, that’s why, you gorram back-berth. Now where are you?”

“An assault for Westen?” What the hell did the little man do?

“For the war! I don’t think even Mikey could have done something to justify the amount of artillery about to land on that rock. Now answer the gorram question, or I swear I will find the absolute worst rock to strand you on when you’re next in custody.”

Jayne starts grabbing guns. “Hera. How long?”

“Shit. The timetables are need to know, and I clearly don’t need to know. Get them off that rock, Cobb.” Even without knowing the Fed very well, the unspoken message comes through loud and clear. If Jayne doesn’t get Fiona and Westen off Hera, he’d better hope he doesn’t meet this certain purple-belly again.



TBC
jebbypal: (don't mess with the smiths)
[personal profile] sabaceanbabe, this is for you. I actually have a bit of it rolling around in my head, so I hope to get you more jayne/fiona distractions for your reading pleasure.

*hugs* Just a drabble, and un-beta-ed.




Jayne sat and watched. Mostly because the shuttle wasn’t large enough to pace. This wave stunk to high heaven, but after two weeks of no leads, it looked like Fiona was willing to risk it.

“Dropped off by a cab?” Fiona asked for the third time.

The hotel owner, though Jayne thought pimp would be more accurate, nodded. “There was enough money in his wallet for a couple of night’s, but he ain’t moving anywhere on his own anytime soon. For the sake of Buddha, I felt it appropriate to reach out to his emergency contact.”

Jayne snorted. Translation from crook: while rifling through Westen’s possessions to find anything worth selling, or duplicating, she’d found another way to make some money.

“It’ll take us a day or so to reach Hera, but I assure you that we’ll be able to pay for any out of pocket costs,” Fiona stated before switching off the wave. Jayne smiled. The translation for that was plain to be seen for anyone with eyes. For the pimp’s sake, Westen better still be breathing by the time Fiona arrived. And in a decently clean room.

Either way, knowing Fiona, there would be some explosions along the way. And maybe now they’d get back to making money instead hunting down someone that had enough wanted posters that just asking about him could get you arrested.
jebbypal: (Default)
Another installment in the Jayne/Fiona saga that [livejournal.com profile] sabaceanbabe started. Unbeta-ed, 660 words.




The fed looked old and out of shape )
jebbypal: (Default)
A double drabble written for [livejournal.com profile] azuremonkey in response to her prompt she thought I'd never write on, but I really think it was just a prompt she WANTED me to write on :P Since it is also still her special day, I get to tap my hat and relay the frog's birthday wishes --- Happy Birthday, babe. Hope you had a good one.

(Set loosely in the 'verse started in Dangerous Proposition)

Best Job Ever )
jebbypal: (Default)
Title: Dangerous Proposition
Fandoms: Firefly/Burn Notice.
Author notes: Thanks to deathisyourart for helping out a bit on my Jayne-isms. Written for [livejournal.com profile] 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?”

“Jayne Cobb.”

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?”

Profile

jebbypal: (Default)
jebbypal

August 2017

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
131415 16171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags