Title: Pickles
Author: Niki Blue
Rating: PG
Character(s): River/Jayne
Prompt: 022. Hunger
Word Count: 676
Summary: "Pickles." "Pickles?"

"Ruttin' two in the morning," Jayne growls, his feet shufflin' and scuffin' on the sidewalk. He's too damn tired to pick 'em and put 'em down like proper. An' hell if he knows where he's gonna find what it is he's supposed to be lookin' for. Just knows that if'n he don't find it he's better off not even goin' back to Serenity.

Jayne pulls his jacket tighter 'round his body. It's colder'n a witch's teat on this dustball and he don't 'xactly have a winter coat. Not much need fer one up in the black where Kaylee kept the boat around 70 degrees all year 'round.

But that don't matter, 'cause it'll be damn cold in his bunk too if he don't find what he's lookin' for.

But so far, ain't no place open but whore houses and bars and those ain't places where he's gonna find what he's tryin' to find. Better off not even pokin' his nose in one of them places if he knows what's good for him. And Jayne's always been good at keepin' himself not dead, so's he don't plan on goin' and ruinin' that now just 'cause this whole trip would be a lot more pleasant if'n he were drunk.

She'd woke him up 'round two by pressin' her cold little hands against his back. He don't understand how the rest of her can be so gorram warm an' her hands be freezin' like ice blocks.

"What?" he'd demanded, voice slurrin' with sleep as he rolled over to face 'er. "Somethin' happenin'?"

"No," she'd said, kneedin' her lil' hand against his hip. "I need something."

Jayne'd leered at that. "I got 'xactly what you need, baby girl."

She'd sighed and rolled her eyes. "No, he does not have what she needs."

"That so?" he'd asked. "'Cause you weren't sayin' that last-"

"Jayne!" she interrupted with a little whine. "She needs you to go and get something for her."

He sighed, nuzzlin' against the bulge of her belly. "What'dya need, then." Another sigh, resigned, he ain't gonna be goin' back to sleep 'til she gets what she wants.

"Pickles."

"Pickles?"

His girl nodded, an' he thinks she can see her smilin' even in the dark. "Yes. Dill pickles," she clarified. "And she would like peanut butter as well."

Jayne looked horrified. "You ain't gonna eat those... together... are ya?"

River fixed him with a look. "Yes. She wants them together. On bread."

With a grimace Jayne'd started pullin' on his boots, mutterin' the whole time 'bout gorram women all the time wantin' somethin'.

"He should wear his jacket," she'd told him, smilin' sweetly , the blankets pulled up over her rounded out stomach and up to her chin. "It is cold outside."

"Ain't that just great," he'd growled, tuggin' his jacket on over his T-shirt. "Wear a jacket Jayne, it's cold. But don't even think 'bout not goin' out at two in the gorram mornin' to get pickles and peanut butter." He was mutterin' under his breath, shufflin' around half asleep and not noticin' the dangerous look on River's face 'til a boot shot past his shoulder and bounced off the bulkhead.

"This is his fault," she'd exclaimed, gesturing down to her stomach angrily. "He has made her round and heavy and hungry! It is your fault, Jayne Cobb! She is bearing your child and you cannot even bring her a sandwich?"

An' then she'd let her lower lip start tremblin' and those big brown eyes had started fillin' up with tears and he'd been done for.

"Alright, alright," he held up his hands in suplication. "I'm goin'. I'm goin' to get your sandwich."

It's close to four when he finally staggers back down into their bunk, sandwich in one hand and a glass of canned milk in the other. He's right proud of himself. He'd finally found a general store that stayed up 'til all hours of the night.

"River?" He peers into the dark, squintin' some. "I got your sandwich."

Silence.

Then, after a second, a lil' snore.