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river + jayne, photuris

Fic: "Binding Agreements" (The "She Said" Remix)

Posted on 2008.03.05 at 09:47
Affectus (State of Mind): cheerfulcheerful
Camena (Music): "Uptown Girl" - Billy Joel
Tags: ,
Title:  Binding Agreements (The "She Said" Remix)
Author:  Green Owl
Rating:  PG-13 (many, many references to sex)
Word Count:  656 (the same as the original fic!)
Summary:  River's turn say her vows...
Prompt:  Aliaspiral's Remix Challenge
Original:  Binding Agreements by aliaspiral(one of the Firefly Goddesses of my personal fan fiction pantheon)
Author Notes:  I loved the original from the moment I read it.  It is a classic and deserves to be held up as an example of how to write Jayne.  This is at best a poor imitation of a masterpiece.
Disclaimer:  I don't own or buy/sell/process this mindcrack, I just abuse the hell out of it.

I, River Elizabeth Tam, take this man to be my lawfully wedded husband.  I promise to love, honor and cherish him.

(“Cherish”, Jayne.

Yes, the way you feel about Vera.)

I also promise to sex him until his eyes roll up in the back of his head as often as possible and not to touch any of his weapons unless he’s been rendered insensible due to the aforementioned orgasm-induced hormone overload and is incapable of defending himself.

(No squawking, my Jayne.  It has happened before; it will happen again.)

I promise to maintain and / or improve my appearance and to educate myself in all manner of sexual activities so as to keep my husband entirely satiated and physically incapable of seeking out alternate forms of amiable companionship.  We may, however, choose to visit a whorehouse together, as I do enjoy the occasional sexual experience with a female.

(Don’t be a boob.   I have no intention of leaving you for a woman – I like your man parts too much.

If you ask nicely and she’s tested for diseases and dementia, then, yes, I see no reason not to.)

I promise not to attempt to prepare any food that is not prêt-a-manger

(No, it does not mean “erection enhancer”, it means “ready to eat”.

Whoever told you that was either greatly mistaken or willfully trying to deceive you.

Yes, you may retaliate, but only this one time.)

And to learn how to make at least two of his favorite dishes without causing major structural damage to the kitchen or his digestive tract.  I promise to teach him how to bypass security systems so that he need not dent or scratch any of his prized arsenal trying to free our wayward crew members when they are captured due to their own stupidity or bad luck.  I will raise our sons to be in touch with their emotions –

(No, that will not make them into “sissies”, Jayne, it will make them less likely to fall for deceitful thieves like Mrs. Reynolds.

Captain Daddy has not managed an annulment so, yes, she is technically still his bride.)

I promise to refrain from calling him a man with a girl’s name unless it is done to intentionally provoke him into displaying his gender-defining organs as preparation for sexing.  I will respect his identity as a cuddly badass motherfucker and do everything in my power to assist him with maintaining that reputation.  I will not tell anyone that he wears boxers with little glow-in-the-dark hearts on them, that he likes the crusts cut off of his peanut butter-and-jelly sandwiches, and that he likes to listen to “lite FM easy-listening for the over 30” music on the Cortex during his shifts.

(Amendment:  anyone besides the preacher.)

I will set aside at least 10% of my earnings to purchase lingerie of salacious manufacture and flimsy construction that he might enjoy the sight of my meagerly-clothed body before he removes it to “put the love” on me.

(Yes, 10%.

Because there is an 82% chance that most of it will be torn during removal.)

I swear to give him back massages whenever he requests them and I will allow him to grow his beard back after I have had sufficient sexual encounters involving his chin stubble as I find it exceedingly stimulating.

(You never asked for clarification.)

I vow all of this to this man, Jayne Theodore Cobb, and I will stand by him until I am too elderly to remain upright without the assistance of a walker.  In that event, I will sit next to him in my battery-powered wheelchair and operate the grenade launcher he claims is too big for me to carry on my own. 

(Yes, my Jayne, that long and more.

Because I want to. 

Yes, I do.  With all my heart.

No, I won’t tell anyone.  Promise.)

May I kiss the groom now?


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