For Mal Title: For Mal Author:ladytalon1 Pairing: Jayne/Mal Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any $$ Summary: Jayne works on preparing a Valentine's Day gift for Mal
A/N: Thought it would be fun to try a 'stream of consciousness' fic from Jayne's POV... hover for translations.
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Ai ya, why’s it gotta be so gorram complicated? Ain’t like we’re courtin’ each other or nothin’, so why do I suddenly gotta prove myself? Buncha kuangzhe de nonsense, if’n ya ask me…but then, no one ever does. Don’t seem right that I gotta do this – he knows it ain’t easy for me to write down things anyhow, but did that stop the hundan from sayin’ that if’n I didn’t do it, that shows I don’t love him none? Noooo. Can’t rightly believe that Mal wants me to write him a ruttin’ love poem for Valentine’s Day.
What do I know about poems, for Tien’s sake? Oh, he’s lookin’ at me again, like he can tell what I’m thinkin’ – maybe I’ll just go down to my bunk to think on it. I ain’t the type of man as can spout off fancified words whenever he needs to… or someone like Mal makes him. Gorramnit to hell.
And where’s the ruttin’ paper? I had it here for somethin’, didn’t use it, where is – oh, here it is. Okay…aw, hell. Where’m I s’posed to start? Don’t think he wants me to write about his pi gu, even if he’s got a nice one. A real nice one. Maybe his eyes.
What color are they, again? Wo kao, I can’t remember. Ni tama de tianxia suoyou de ren duo gaisi, why’s this go se gotta happen to me?
So, not his eyes and forget about that tail…lord, if’n I don’t do this right I won’t be tappin’ that ever again! Poem, not the pi gu. Poem, not the pi gu. Poem, not the… hey, what about his mouth? No, that ain’t gonna work neither.
Okay, think about it. What about…what about that tattoo? That’s a shiny one, maybe I’ll write somethin’ ‘bout how much I like…well, maybe not. I sure as hell won’t write nothin’ about how much I fancy him. But maybe that’s what he wants? Oh, wo bu zhi dào. Worth a shot.
Here goes a whole ruttin’ load of nothin’ness. Um… think I’ll call it, ‘For Mal.’ Cause it’s for him. What next? How about, ‘First time I seen you, your hands was in the air. Last time in my bunk, you looked real nice when your pi gu was bare.’ Heh. Oh, no, wait. Lemme scratch out pi gu, I ain’t supposed to be mentionin’ that part…tian xiode, the ruttin’ paper ripped! Well, I reckon I can write it down all purty once I figure out what the hell I’m doin’ anyway.
Next line should be somethin’ like, ‘You always know when I’m tellin’ a lie, and I don’t even mind when ya say I’m cho ba guai.’ Now, that’s just stupid, Jayne Cobb. But it rhymes, which makes it okay…yeah, I’ll leave it in. He better not think he can call me cho ba guai no more, though. Won’t let him top no more if’n he does…
How gorram long does a poem gotta be? I dunno. Maybe at least another line, an’ then I can copy it out real shiny and give it to him so I can get laid. Gotta be the right words, though. Maybe…oh, I got it. ‘I know I ain’t always got the right words to say, but I promise that you’ll always be my bao bei. ’ Hell, that’ll make him drop trou for gorram sure! Now for the makin’ it all fancy on another piece of paper…careful, don’t rip it…yeah, this is perfect. Now all I gotta do is go up the ladder, and give it - oh, there he is.
He’s readin’ it.
What’s that look on his face supposed to mean? He like it, or not? Oh, no…he don’t look too happy – zaogao, did I leave the ‘pi gu’ in the first lines? Think I did – oh, no.
He’s comin’ closer, and he’s….smilin’? What the everlovin’ hell?