Jayne spent a lot of his life floating from mercenary ship to mercenary ship. Killers for hire didn't bother with fuzzy reindeer or old guys with tummies like a bowl full of jelly. What the hell did that mean anyway? Sitting on Santa's lap always seemed a little lecherous to Jayne, at least if he was Santa.
When Kaylee pulled a grubby hat from her trunk and insisted that someone play Santa, Jayne volunteered. Holidays on Serenity guaranteed free-flowing liquor, and Jayne never turned down two things: a good fuck and free booze. Other years, he might've added a job and his own bunk to the list, but he currently had both. He didn't even mind the stupid hat.
"Going to sit on Santa's lap and tell me what you want?" Jayne said to Kaylee.
Kaylee giggled, her cheeks red with alcohol. "Sure, Santa." They didn't know each other real well yet, but Kaylee's nice curves made Jayne wish he knew her better. In the Biblical sense anyway.
She sat on Jayne's lap, wiggling. He almost growled in her ear, but Mal shot him a real stern look. Mal always tried to keep him in line. Jayne never had real good manners. Though he did know how to keep a respectable posture around pretty women.
He grinned as Kaylee reached up and grabbed the hat for herself. She kept sitting on his lap.