AN: Although Simon is a total heartthrob, I love Jayne even more (especially with his hat). I feel bad I couldn't write him in something happier... maybe if there's a next time. I also made him a little more dramatic then usual because I felt like trying a new style of writing; hope you guys don't mind and enjoy. I don't own Firefly and, as always, I ignore the movie Serenity and simply stick with the show universe because Wash and Book didn't deserve to die (it's such BS).

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Sharply Dull

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It was utterly unfair in his opinion.

He had always watched her from the first day that he'd come aboard the ship with his one knapsack and head full of possibilities of his own bunk and money to spare. She had come bouncing up to him, locks of her hair escaping from her messy up-do with a grease streak below her left eye as she said, "Nice to meet cha, I'm Kaylee. The mechanic."

What a contradiction he had first thought (although maybe with a smaller word) with an uneasy grin as he assessed her. Small, big doe eyes and a disposition that reminded him of a white dwarf. Not because of the unfiltered light, but because white dwarfs were strong stars refusing to give up or give in to being a destructive black hole. They refused to stop shining their light.

When she lifted her hand for him to shake, his own enveloped hers entirely and he wondered again if she was really lying about being the mechanic as her hands were soft, not nearly as callused and repeatedly scared like his. It seemed he couldn't grasp the idea, as he let go of her hand, of this pretty young woman being the mechanic who most likely was cooped up in the engine room all day.

In the back of his mind, he hoped that her time wouldn't be engulfed in the engine room. Because, if she was trapped in that sauna, he wouldn't be able to see that bright face as much.

Maybe that little back-thought was when the seemingly innocent attraction had started.

Jayne didn't notice it at first, it started out simple enough with him wanting to sit across of her at the dinner table so he could both see and hear her all the time, even when her clatter was pointless and only took up her breath and made her food cold before she could eat it. And then he began going to towns with her, to part shops to scope out what could be useful. Although her charming smile would cajole some of the younger shopholders to give discounts, Jayne's glare offered even lower prices.

Suddenly he'd use free time to go into the engine room where she would be tinkering with some part, usually big eyes narrowed in concentration. He refused to acknowledge that when their hands or other body parts touched as he helped her his face would redden from the heat and not embarrassment. He wasn't some blushing Core school boy, he was a six foot four mercenary who killed people in cold blood when ordered.

And then suddenly, before he knew it, he realized was in serious trouble. Trouble that even Vera couldn't get him out of. It was the little things that he did around her that ticked him off to his infatuation.

It was how he always picked her first when playing hoop-ball even though she was no-doubt the weakest player. How he always joked about her grease covered face when in truth he found it endearing. It was how she was the first one of the crew he showed his display of guns to and felt proud about it when she stared in complete shock (and awe he eventually convinced himself).

But then that accursed doctor had come into the picture and Kaylee's eyes lit up in a way Jayne had never seen.

The selfish boy had been willing to let her die for the sake of his sister; Jayne killed for her safety.

He knew his brain wasn't cream-of-the-crop material, but he doubted even geniuses could make sense of why Kaylee's attentions drifted towards distant Simon.

And so he was forced to take steps back; he couldn't take her brightness. He couldn't take this new Kaylee who stumbled with her words and emotions, who would be put down with the simplest statement from Simon. Whose smile she would reserve for that selfish, ruttin fool.

The crew knew Kaylee didn't know how to deal with her crush, but Jayne fared much worse. His retaliation to express his displeasure was first aimed towards Kaylee herself - crude jokes that made her hurt. He knew he shouldn't, but he felt dirty satisfaction. If he was hurting, so should she. Good.

But then he realized, as he continued his dutiful watching, that there wasn't anything in the 'verse he could say or do that would make her stop batting her eyelashes up at the doctor, to stop her from giving away her heart like a discount engine part and not the glimmering gem it was.

So, eventually, Jayne took enough steps back that he didn't even have a shadow anymore because he wasn't close enough to Kaylee for the light to produce one. Many called him a bumbling idiot, but he knew enough to know his place.

Because of his watching, he was the first to notice when Simon started smiling at her. The tall man was first to notice how his stuttering began to turn sincere and he truly wished to please Kaylee. He was first to notice how they started sitting next to each other at the diner table. How if Kaylee's left hand was under the table, so was Simon's right; hidden fingers intertwined as the rest of the crew ignorantly continued eating.

One day, as the crew was down at the deck dividing up for a hoop-ball game, Jayne noticed right away that Kaylee was missing. Ignoring Mal's insistence that it was even without her as River had volunteered and it would be odd again if she joined, the hired muscle walked away in search.

It didn't take him long as he hear her bell-like laughter from the common room, peeking his head in to see her with Simon on the couch, her feet lazily laid over his lap as his deeper laugh mixed in with hers.

As both their mouths were wide with smiles and pouring out merriment, Jayne's own lips stretched over his teeth in discontent as he turned away. Slumping against the hallway wall, he pulled his specially made orange hat over his eyes and ears in an attempt to block out infringing reality.

Shouldn't loosing something, or more specifically someone, you never had not hurt at all?

Maybe it was then when he decided to stop watching, to try and stop yearning for something he now knew for certain wasn't going to happen. He had never asked of anything from her, and maybe that had been the problem all along. He was already selfish in nature, why couldn't he just demand that she smile at him like she did to Simon?

Why was this so hard?

Getting up, and realigning his hat, he went back into the game and snarled when Mal accused him that he better make up for lost time. To say the least, he dominated that game with his suddenly loose pent-up anger and frustration.

Later that evening at the table, as he saw Simon whisper something down to Kaylee's level and she released a giggle, he looked down at his unfinished food and got up with a screech of chair legs, muttering a thanks for the grub and leaving the rest to watch him go in silence. They had never seen him leave a scrap of food on his plate, much less more then half a meal.

He heard quick footsteps behind him and turned from descending into his bunk to see a worried-faced Kaylee racing up to him.

"You feelin' right?" she said as she crouched to get to his lowered level.

"Fine," he gruffly replied before dropping all the way down into his private room.

Unabashedly, she climbed down herself and asked after her feet hit the ground, "What's wrong?"

He paused in his reach for one of his numerous guns for a moment before he grabbed it and sat down on his single bunk, pulling out a cloth to begin his maintenance. "Nothin' is wha's wrong."

"Jayne..."

The way she said his name made him pause again before scoffing, "Woman, don't get in my space. Leave." His heart was uncomfortably hammering against his ribs, as if attempting to shatter them and make a run for it to the young women not ten feet away.

"You don't got to be so snippy bout it." She now held a sliver of hurt in her voice as she climbed back up, closing it with a definitive jerk.

"You don't got to be so gorram nice," he muttered to himself as he continued with his work, stringing Chinese swears as he went.

And so the retreat continued. Sometimes the mercenary wouldn't even go to dinner, he didn't want to see if the new couple had gotten enough guts to openly show their held hands. He could tell the other crew members were worried, especially when he began to work out less and stay in his private quarters more. With that and not eating as much, he easily dropped weight. Mal had said in passing that he didn't need any wimpy mercenary, but Jayne had just grinned like a feral dog and had killed an extra man on the next mission via headlock. It shut the captain, and everyone else's doubts, up enough.

Well, all for one that was. He should have known Kaylee would take extra concern and would approach him one day.

"Hey there," she said as he pumped iron.

He almost lost his gripping on the bar, but he placed it back in its place well enough. Sitting up, he grabbed the bottom of his shirt to wipe off most of the sweat from his face before finally setting his eyes on the bright mechanic.

"How're you?" she asked as she twiddled with her fingers in front of her.

Jayne rolled his eyes and leaned back on his palms, saying, "Capt'n ask you ter ask me that?"

"I'm wonderin," she sniffed in something akin to pride.

"I'm fine, strong as you can see," he said as he lifted his arms and flexed, muscles well defined even through cotton.

"See that your body's fine 'nough, how're the gears?"

"Gears?" he asked as he lowered his arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Inside mechanics; head well greased?"

"Nothing's wrong there either, girlie," he said as he got up and walked away.

"Come to dinner tonight," she yelled over the space, causing Jayne to stop in his steps and turn back to ask, "Why?"

"C-Cause," she faltered for a second at his hollow voice before getting her strength back and saying with confidence, "I'm cookin."

He turned away without giving an answer, but he did go to dinner that night and was welcomed with smiles, jokes and warm food. With his belly full and head buzzed, he didn't notice until it was too late that he was too high for safety. He crashed down when he saw Kaylee smile at him as she leaned into Simon's chest, one of the doctor's arms around her shoulders as the other held her hand.

Struggling to stretch his face to return her gesture, he gave a half-assed smile before turning back to listen to one of Wash's stories from flight school.

Later that night, as he stared at his ceiling, he deemed he must be a masochist. Because even with this hurt he felt happiness; she had been happy that he was there tonight.

She loved the doctor, yet she cared about him.

It was utterly unfair in his opinion, but it was enough. After all, he used to live off a seven percent cut.