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The problem is such that she takes it to Simon's friend Jordie: where do you take a friend from out of town who had an upbringing similar to her own and feels a little off in places as fancy as anywhere Simon would suggest?

The response comes back via wave: Have a little more faith in your husband, but not much -- he never went to this particular bar as much as I did. Ask him (I'm assuming he knows your friend better than I do) what he would think about The Pig.

Apparently it's suitable for Jayne Cobb, and walking distance from their apartment, and so Kaylee and Jayne present themselves at a local speakeasy that from the outside is a mere door, no windows. A hand-written sign in Mandarin tacked to it pronounces the name of the establishment to be The Pig In The Poke.

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Kaylee tilts her head to the right.

Then a little further to the right.

Then a liiiiiittle further.

"You've thought about it," Kaylee accuses.

With glee!

"I ain't thought about nothin'!" grumbles Jayne, which is . . . probably truer than he means.

"You want to know the truth - fact is, there was a time when I was younger'n'dumber'n I am now I thought I could handle the tight pants. They was all in with the ladies, dŏng ma? Fact is," he goes on, with sad and slightly sloshy dignity, "I was too much man for 'em an' it didn't work out, an' that, little Kaylee, is how I know."

She shakes her head sadly. "Jayne, you just ain't found the right ladies."

"Could be," Jayne says.

"Or it could be as the right ladies was all dead at the time."

There's a pause before the inevitable leer . . . but it comes eventually. "Found my fair share a wrong ladies, though."

Kaylee rolls her eyes.

"Inara likes those pants, and she's plenty alive. I guess you just ain't aimin' for a Companion."

"Wouldn't say no to a Companion," Jayne says, considering this, "but I reckon a plain whore does me just as well, an' with none a that hoity-toititude.

"'sides, 'Nara's nothin' but the livin' proof that Companions got guài yì de taste."

"First," Kaylee says, reaching for the next drink, "I'm tellin' the captain you said that, and second, you're just jealous."

UNLIKELY, says Jayne's expression.

Dismissive: "Ball an' chain with 'nara's tits is still a ball an 'chain."

"...and you wonder why you don't ever find somebody to stick with." She shakes her head. "Serious, Jayne? I mean -- serious?"

"Ever say I wondered that?" Jayne says, irritated. "Ever say I wanted someone t'stick with?"

Kaylee downs a significant portion of her drink. "Well? Don't you?"

Jayne shrugs, looking towards the bar, and bangs his own empty glass down on the table.

Bartender, it is TIME FOR MORE.

"Find someone t'stick with and where you get is stuck."

"'N how'd you know that?" she demands. "'Sperience?"

"I don't got eyes?"

It takes her a moment to parse it.

She blinks in outrage!

"What's that 'sposed to mean?" she demands.

"Simmer down," Jayne says, with an eyeroll, "It ain't all about you. I seen plenty a married folk in my day ain't you.

"Wouldn't catch me stayin' somewhere I was downright miserable on account of a ring, now you say somethin', but that weren't what I was thinkin' so don't get all hissy."

"Get hissy if I want," Kaylee retorts. "Leastwise I got somebody to lean on I can trust with my life and everybody else's. And he ain't half bad in the sack neither. How come you wouldn't want that?"

Brusque: "You start trustin' someone with your life, they start trustin' you with theirs. You seen what comes a that."

When it comes to Jayne, anyways.

"Ain't anythin' I want on my shoulders."

Kaylee slugs him on the shoulder.

"You got it already, idiot. And don't you try denyin' it."

Jayne glances sidelong at Kaylee, mutters something along the lines of "where the hell is that bartender," and swings himself out of his seat.

"Hey!" he bellows, grabbing his glass, and jets off towards the bar. "I gotta cào nĭ zŭxiān shí bă dai to get a gorram drink around here?"

Perhaps surprisingly, the answer is 'no'.

After the drink she's currently working on, Kaylee decides to stop; she's pleasantly tipsy, and folding every napkin she can get her hands on into frogs. Because the napkins are such poor quality, they are stiff enough so when she presses on the back, they leap in Jayne's direction.

Six frogs face him, accusingly, their passage blocked by empty glasses.

Jayne looks at the frogs.

Then he looks at Kaylee.

"You got the dexterity to make those," he says, "you ain't drunk enough yet."

(For the record, Jayne is nowhere near as tipsy as Kaylee is.)

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