Best Job Ever - Firefly/Burn Notice
Apr. 30th, 2008 08:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jebbypalA double drabble written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
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)
Jayne looked around the bar at the folk monopolizing the stools and tables as they looked back. He knew what they’d see – a bruiser, not all that smart at first glance, and a woman (somehow, Jayne couldn’t wrap the word “lady” around Fiona) dressed in clothing designed to draw eyes as much as it was to hide the weapons she always carried. About a quarter of the males automatically assumed that he was her pimp, while the rest figured her off-limits and that he was the body guard hired to protect her.
He’d known Fiona just long enough to know she’d throw down with anyone who implied either of those things. He just hadn’t figured out if it was ‘cause she was insulted or if she was just looking for an excuse to fight.
Fiona glided through the mucked up dirt floor and bodies to an empty table while he went to grab a pitcher of whatever might live up to her standards drink wise. He was unsurprised to see her throwing a punch when he turned around.
“This is the best gorram job ever,” he yelled as he waded into the fray.
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)
Jayne looked around the bar at the folk monopolizing the stools and tables as they looked back. He knew what they’d see – a bruiser, not all that smart at first glance, and a woman (somehow, Jayne couldn’t wrap the word “lady” around Fiona) dressed in clothing designed to draw eyes as much as it was to hide the weapons she always carried. About a quarter of the males automatically assumed that he was her pimp, while the rest figured her off-limits and that he was the body guard hired to protect her.
He’d known Fiona just long enough to know she’d throw down with anyone who implied either of those things. He just hadn’t figured out if it was ‘cause she was insulted or if she was just looking for an excuse to fight.
Fiona glided through the mucked up dirt floor and bodies to an empty table while he went to grab a pitcher of whatever might live up to her standards drink wise. He was unsurprised to see her throwing a punch when he turned around.
“This is the best gorram job ever,” he yelled as he waded into the fray.