Hi ya'll! This is my first Firefly fic, so I'm not sure how it's going to go. So, I'm still working on what I want this story to be... as it stands now it's kinda a oneshot, but I have an idea for a long story plot. I just wanted to see how it went over before I continued on with it. Please let me know what you think! Your reviews might decide if this story continues! Also I welcome constructive criticism!

"I just don' git it, Preacher," Jayne huffed, pushing the heavy barbell up.

"What isn't there to get, Jayne?" Book answered, sighing. He had lost track of how many times they had had this conversation.

It was late; most of the crew had retired to their rooms by now. They had been cruising in the black for a solid week, with another two until they finally crossed the galaxy and made for Persephone. And as with most of their long trips without landfall, Jayne had gotten restless and bored by the fifth day. Having cleaned all his guns (twice), sharpened his knives, and catalogued his entire inventory of ammo, Jayne had run out of things to keep himself occupied. So he had taken to working out a ridiculous five hours a day, which is how the Shepard found himself stranded in the cargo bay in the middle of the night, having the exact same conversation that they had a month ago.

"Whaddya mean 'What inn't there to git?!' How does a livin', breathin' man function without gittin' good an' sexed up every once in awhile?"

Book pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. How many times was he going to have to explain this? Sure, he and Jayne shared a devotion to the Lord (if you could call Jayne's casual and often conveniently forgotten faith that), but they employed two very different methods of living. The Shepard, a devoted man of god trying desperately to make up for some unknown sin of the past, leading the straight and narrow, and the mercenary, a man of fluctuating morals, doing what he wanted when he wanted, explaining himself to no one. And no matter how many times Book told him that sex was not NEARLY as important as the merc seemed to think it was, Jayne just could never quite get it through his thick skull.

"So yer tellin', for certain, that ya ain't never ever gotten a taste of it? Not even a little peek," the big man pressed, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Well, as I have said, I wasn't always a Shepard."

"Right," he grunted, clanging the bar into its holder. "Want me to spot ya?"

Another sigh. "Well I might as well, since I'm already up. Might help me sleep a bit more later," Book answered wearily sliding onto the bench. "I'm not so sure why you find my situation so strange Jayne. I think you're as much of a curiosity as I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well," he began, carefully lowering the bar. "You go through your life interacting with, I'm going to guess, hundreds of women, and yet, other than your mother, I haven't heard you talk about one of them with anything more than fleeting fondness. That I find strange."

"Don' rightly see why, Shepard. Ain't like my kinda life is any good fer womenfolk. I sure as hell ain't gonna live very long, and 'sides ain't like there's women linin' up waiting fer me when we hit dirt. Well that ain't exactly true, but it's only 'cause they know I got coin."

"So you mean to tell me that you have never had a real, meaningful relationship with a woman? That's a very sad life for a man to lead Jayne."

"Well, I don' know that I'd call it meaningful… But I guess ya could count the one with my wife."

Book dropped the bar right onto his chest.