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The Dragon and The Cricket

Summary:

This is a quick fic, not beta'd, but not hard to read. Let me know if you find any glaring errors. I appreciate that. <3

***

“I suppose you’re not much different than anything else in my life,” Jayne said as she carded her fingers through his hair slow-like. “Not worth much if it don’t scare me half to death, or threaten to kill me first.”

River grinned, big and pretty. Her eyes were soft and happy, like he was finally saying all the right things. Jayne liked that better than being scared and confused by her, by far. He decided he was going to start thinking of her first, and leave the rest of it behind. It was all empty static anyways. River wanted to be what mattered to him. That was real. That meant something.

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Soft, forgiving flesh, pale skin, black hair and a playful little moan made his dick twitch under his hand. He was close, so close he pulled back a little. The woman in his imagination was just starting to enjoy herself and he liked to watch it play out, maybe wait so he got off at the same time because he was nice like that. It was only fair to treat such pretty, loving things as good as they done you.

"Jayne,” a quiet voice said. For a second he thought it was part of his fantasy, but the crack in his door letting in a faded blue sliver of light proved otherwise. It was still too dark to see anything clearly, but he rushed to put his man parts away anyhow. "Jayne?" she asked again. “I have crime for you.”

"How the hell'd you get in? My door is locked," Jayne snapped angrily.

"I unlocked it," the voice that could only be River stated. He was surprised, but not that surprised. River was the most unpredictable creature he had ever had the misfortune of meeting.

"Try knockin’ why dontcha?" he asked as he sat up on the side of his bunk and covered his crotch with his pillow, just to be safe. River slipped inside the door and closed it, blanketing them both in darkness. She laughed quietly, at what, Jayne had no clue, but the sound was eerily familiar. A little too much like his fantasy. "Well, yes River, come on in and have a seat. I'd be glad to talk crime with you in the middle of the night," Jayne said sarcastically.

"Turning on the light. You'd better be decent," River warned.

"I am, I am," Jayne said. Annoyed, but thankful he still had his boxers on. She was exasperating and strange. Still, she was easier to talk to since Simon sorted her meds.

The room burst to life, blanketed in yellow light from overhead. It made his eyes ache. River leaned against the back of his door, hand still on the switch. Jayne almost choked on air when he got a good look at her in nothing but her tiny underwear and the shirt she'd been wearing at dinner. "What the hell d'you want then?" He asked gruffly, scowling and looking only at her face because he knew very well what she could do to him if he acted like a fool who assumed he had permission to look elsewhere.

"I was trying to sleep and I realized I needed to steal something," River answered. Her eyes moved around his room. They darted back toward him and he fought the urge to scoot back on the bed to get as far away from her as possible. "You have so many guns," River muttered. She reached past him and went right for the key to his weapons cabinet. With River there was no such thing as a hiding place. "I need to steal information, and I need your help,” she said while she made quick work of the lock.

"What?" Jayne asked weakly. Watching her open his gun cabinet and touch everything was a disturbing cross between how he used to feel when his mom made him share his toys to his little brother, and how much he liked looking at pictures of pretty ladies with pretty guns. It was confusing, and it quickly became irritating.

"Stop that." Jayne took the pistol out of her hand and shut the weapons locker. He didn't bother locking it back up because he wasn't daft enough to try and wrestle the key away from her.

"Simon won't like it,” River said with an addictive little grin he'd come to like very much.

Jayne realized she meant the crime. He smiled back without really meaning to and muttered, “yeah?’

“I thought that might be enough," River smiled.

"You gonna pay me?" Jayne asked.

"Yes?" River shrugged.

"Do you have money?"

"I can get money. How much?"

“You gonna just pull it out of the stars then?” Jayne laughed.

“No, out of the cortex,” River answered.

"What, really?" Jayne learned a long time ago to listen when River spoke, even when she sounded like she was blathering on. More times than not, it was worth it. When she started looking around the room again instead of explaining herself, Jayne started to worry over how unkempt it was.

"Where's your interface?" River asked.

"You can't have that," Jayne blurted before he could think of something better to say.

“Oh,” River grinned and climbed up on his bed, going straight for the space between his mattress and the wall. Jayne meant to protest, but her ass was about an inch away from his face. He looked a bit because he wasn’t dead yet, then diverted his eyes toward the ceiling. It seemed like the only smart thing he could do. He wasn’t going to wrestle the interface away from her any more successfully than the key. She would win and he would be humiliated more than he was about to be. “You like this lan dan jiang?” River asked as she fell down on his bed gracelessly and scooted to the edge. She sat right next to him like it was a perfectly acceptable thing to do even though his porn was playing on the screen in her hands.

“Just close the site and get to whatever you’re gonna be doin’.” Jayne leaned on his knees, about to cover his face with his hands until he almost lost the pillow that was the only thing left between him and a complete lack of decency. He slapped a hand back down on it and scooted over a little to give River some much needed space.

It was too quiet for too long. Eventually he had to look, but he had to talk himself into it. When he finally glanced over she was tapping away on the screen, her eyes darting over white letters on a black background. She was so deep in the cortex he couldn't tell what she was doing anyways.

“How much?” River asked again.

“Depends, what’s the job like?” Jayne asked. “And why ain’t you asking Mal?”

“Simon won't like it,” River said as she flipped the screen and started searching for something new.

“And Mal would tell Simon,” Jayne nodded.

“You won’t.” River seemed to be very sure of that when she turned the screen toward him and pointed to a map that showed the Alliance outpost near Sutter. “Medium security, mostly information archives. I think all of the prescreening for my--for the place they sent me is there.”

“Why?” Jayne asked.

“I need to know why,” River stated like he should understand. Thing was, he did.

“You wanna know why they chose you? Ain’t that obvious?” Jayne asked.

“If they genetically engineered me to begin with, I was grown like a melon and picked when I was ripe.” River turned the screen and went back to tapping. What she said made Jayne’s gut twist with guilt because men had done it. Men like him. Paid to not care because the money and the perks were good enough to clear their conscious, for a while. “How much?” she asked again.

“Enough to cover costs and keep us flying for a while,” Jayne muttered. It was no use pretending he was gonna keep the money. He’d end up buying apples, peaches and fuel long before he spent a single credit on himself. Something about River always seemed to stir up go shi he’d rather not think about. “Why’d you need me anyhow? You can get in there and back out on your own,” Jayne asked.

“We have to lie to Simon.” River grinned at the screen and turned it toward him again. “I did the math, but if that’s not enough...?” she asked. The figure on the screen was more money than he’d seen in years. “I don't want to underbid. We only get one shot at this,” she explained.

“You--where you gettin’ that?” Jayne asked.

“Alliance accounts. Slush funds, misappropriated cash that might never find it’s way home,” River said in a light little voice, like the money was nothing.

“Why we been living like wolves in the woods all these years if you can do that?” Jayne asked.

“If you do it too much, they notice,” River said with an intense, wicked gleam in her eye that made Jayne painfully aware of the pillow covering his crotch still. “Simon and I never want for long. Didn’t you notice?” she asked.

“Well. No, not really, but--just take as much as you can get away with. That’s how real crime is done,” Jayne snapped. His gruff tone made her smile. It was downright unsettling how small and feeble she musta thought he was.

“And that’s how real criminals get caught,” River pointed out. “We’ll pick it up when we stop on Sutter.”

“Just me and you?” Jayne asked.

“Yes, the fewer eyes and ears the better.” River flipped screens rapidly as she spoke. Jayne was sure she was seeing all the junk, weapons, and porn sites he had up, but she never once looked surprised. “Just go along with everything I say. No one will know,” she assured him. “And this site is the kind of thing you should be spending your money on.” River pushed the interface back into his hands and stood up.

The screen showed one of those fancy pornography sites with soft looking faces and lithe, shiny bodies. River reached down and tapped on one of the male figures, then a video under the man’s face. She tapped play and the screen suddenly filled with a slow, promising scene. A man trapped between a gorgeous couple, looking like he was in no hurry to escape.

“That pass is good for a while, but you should buy it, not steal it. They work hard too. They should get paid,” River said from his door.

“Doesn’t look like hard work to me,”Jayne muttered. His door shut, then locked from the outside. Jayne scowled at the mystery of that for a second, but the needy noises coming from his interface demanded his attention. “How the hell does she know what I like?” Jayne said as the reality of what he was looking at dawned on him. All the sites he had up on his interface before were just pretty ladies. “I know she can get in my head,” Jayne hissed at the door like River might still be able to hear him. Then he realized he was talking to himself and that maybe made him crazier than she was.

There was nothing to be done about any of it anyhow, so he fell back in his bunk and started watching the video again. When he realized she still had his weapons locker key he moved like he might go after her, but relaxed again because the woman on the screen was finally being tended to properly, and Jayne was sure River would give it back sooner or later. He hoped.

***

“River, are you ready to go?” Simon asked.

“I’m going with Jayne,” River said over her book.

Jayne was milling about the kitchen, making coffee and eating breakfast as slow and disinterested as he could, just like River told him to. Simon looked over at him, but so did River. She made a cute little animated face like she was angry and waved a hand at him like she expected him to do something. It took Jayne a beat too long to catch on he was supposed to be angry, and protest her coming along.

“What, me?” Jayne scowled and pointed at himself like he was shocked. “No way. You’re not coming with me. I have errands to run and the places I gotta go are no place for the likes of you.”

“You’ll die if I don’t,” River said in a creepy voice. The kind Jayne hadn't heard her use for some time.

“Did you see something River?” Simon asked. His eyes darted back to Jayne like he was a little concerned, but mostly he cared about River.

“I saw enough.” River dropped her book and gave Simon an exasperated look. “You want me to ignore it and let him die?”

“No, of course not, but I should--”

“If you come, we’ll all die. At least I can pretend I’m supposed to be with him,” River said.

“You can’t--that’s not--” Simon started to bluster.

“Do I have a say?” Jayne interrupted because River gave him a look again.

“No,” they both said at the same time, which was more creepy than River’s insistence he was going to die. He was sure that was just part of the act though, he hoped.

Jayne shoved a couple of protein bars into his pocket and left the kitchen while they were still arguing. He was sure he laid plenty of groundwork for River, and he said what he would have said if it really happened. He was about to step off the upper deck stairs when he noticed a bag hanging from the railing. It was Rivers, or maybe Kaylee’s, but he’d seen River using it as of late. He touched the little blue velvet stars that were sewn on to the front, curious why women folk always had to gussie everything up. He slung it over his shoulder regardless and waited at the cargo door.

A moment later River came running down the walkway. The sound of Simon was too far behind to catch her, but Jayne wasn't going to run away from him. He scowled and stood his ground. River crashed into him, of course, and started pushing him down the ramp playfully. Her eyes were bright and she was giggling, but that didn't mean Jayne was going to play along. When Simon came through the door he slowed and stopped at the railing, looking down at them, obviously thankful Jayne wasn't giving in to River’s mad ideas.

“River,” Simon said in his best older brother voice.

“He’s such a worry wart,” River laughed. “Come on Jayne, you know you’re going to let me go.”

Jayne timed his defeat to go right along with Simon’s. He let his shoulders drop, he stopped holding his ground, and he shrugged at Simon apologetically, then let River drag him out the cargo doors.

“Just make sure she doesn’t--” Simon stopped mid sentence because they both knew Jayne had no say at all. It was River who was going to make sure they came back alive. “Just, don't die. Either of you,” Simon finally settled on.

“We won’t! Love you Simon!” River said gleefully as she ran down the ramp, Jayne in tow. When they were a few paces away River put an arm around his waist and gave him an awkward little hug. “That was perfect. I was worried you'd try too hard,” she laughed.

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I snuck out past my ma enough times to know how to play off a quick escape,” Jayne scoffed.

“With your brother, Bentley?” River asked. “He was smarter than you.”

It should have surprised him more she knew that, but it didn’t. Not anymore “I was bigger...” Jayne muttered. “We were fair matched.”

“Then why is he dead?” River asked. The question hit him off guard. She looked too sweet to have such a forked tongue, but he’d always known otherwise. She looked up at him like she expected a response, but dropped her eyes again when she saw she wasn’t going to get one. “Sorry, don't be mad," she said quietly before she let him go and ran ahead to pick a thorny little purple flower. She dropped it in the front pocket of her overalls and started running toward town.

“Come on, it’s too hot for this,” Jayne complained, but he still jogged ahead anyways, so she didn't get too far away from him.

***

“How long is this going to take?” Jayne asked again. River glanced over at him like she was ashamed of him and went back to watching the girl on stage strip out of her cute little dress. It was a tame burlesque show by Jayne’s standards, but most of the audience were female types. He got more than one promising look from the patrons, but he was with River, and it wouldn't have been right to leave her alone to go flirt. Especially when he didn't know how much time they had. “Why’d you pick this place anyhow?” Jayne regretted asking the moment it came out of his mouth. He didn't want to be in a place like a strip club with River, let alone talk about it.

Any answer River gave was probably going to lead to topics he didn't want to bring up with the likes of River Tam. Especially after the whole interface incident. They only reason he wasn't mortified with shame still was because River didn't seem to care at all. Jayne figured she did what she did to get on his good side because of the job, not because she really cared at all what kind of go shi he was looking at on the cortex.

“I didn’t pick the place, he did,” River smiled and pointed over Jayne’s shoulder. A tall, handsome young man in a fancy looking suit was making his way slowly through the tables. He was shaking hands and saying hello to people. When he finally spotted River he smiled like they were old friends and headed straight for them. “He’s pretty,” she said quietly. It was true, but it surprised Jayne she bothered to say so, and that she whispered it so only he could hear.

“Miss Croix? We’re so happy to see you this evening,” the young man said so smoothly Jayne almost didn't notice when he let go of a paper bag that was hanging at his side. He let the package go and it dropped into the chair next to him as he raised it to take River’s hand in greeting. “I hope you enjoy the show. We have our very best performers coming up soon.” The man smiled and he was gone, moving through the sparse lunch crowd like a butterfly.

“Come on, let’s go,” Jayne said as he reached for the bag. They had what they came for, no point in dragging it out. When River reached out and ran a hand up his arm, deflecting his reach toward the bag, he was stunned speechless. She pulled him closer and kissed his cheek with a wicked little grin. Maybe he liked it a little more than he wanted to admit, but it was River and he understood very clearly where the lines were drawn around her. “What the hell are you doing?” Jayne caught her other hand before it touched his face.

“You’re going to pretend that bag doesn't exist for long enough no one will remember he dropped it there,” River smiled like she was saying nice, pretty things to him. “People will remember if we get up and walk out right after he talked to us.”

“Right,” Jayne nodded. She was too close, her eyes were too bright and her lips were too red. He needed to get away. Thing was, he didn’t really want to. “Do you think you could let me go now?” he asked, hoping to hell he didn't have to keep up whatever she was playing at for too long.

“You don't like it?” River whispered as she climbed up closer. Jayne had to let her hand go and grip the arm of his chair to keep himself from rearing back and giving away the game to anyone watching. She was terrible, awful, and reckless. She was playing with him because she could. It made her laugh, and that’s about all the reason River needed for anything, no matter how smart she was. “Jayne?” she said softly. Her voice gave him chills, it was so perfect.

“River, stop playing and sit back down,” Jayne warned quietly.

“Maybe I’m not playing,” she snapped. Her hands fell away and she sat back down, crossing her arms over her chest like she was actually annoyed with him, not just playing at it.

Jayne ignored it for a while, but she shot him a nasty glance, like she was angry, and suddenly he couldn’t shed himself of all the guilt and confusion that flooded in. “What’re you playin’ at River?” he asked even though he knew it was a bad idea. Good ideas seemed scarce and he had to do something.

“Nothing,” she said, but the anger in her voice was enough to curdle his guts.

“You don't--um, I’ll go get that fancy guy. Send him back over, and I can get out of your hair. Go see what’s going on downstairs for a while?” Jayne offered.

“He’s gay,” River stated flatly.

The woman on stage stripping made more sense than River, Jayne knew what to expect from her. So, Jayne fixed his eyes and watched the show. The woman was pretty with a big smile, just like he preferred. All it did though, was make him painfully aware of the fact that River was not smiling. When he started expecting River to smile was a mystery, but she always seemed happy anymore, unless she was busy with something. Jayne couldn't recall her being vexed or talking real crazy in a long while. Recalling that made her dark scowl even more heavy to bear.

“River, don't be like that,” Jayne goaded, pushing at her shoulder playfully. She glanced back at him with an odd look that made him feel stupid for even trying to get at her that way. Maybe it was all the cash waiting for him, or all the times he wished she’d visit him in the middle of the night again, but all he wanted was for her to forgive him for whatever he’d done. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, hoping she heard what he meant, not how small it sounded.

Without enough warning, she was too close again. River narrowed her eyes and peered at him like she was seeing past whatever was on his outsides. Jayne didn't like anything about how she did that. He wasn't all that comfortable thinking about the things that went on in his head. He couldn't imagine anyone else listening in, but River didn’t look repulsed or confused. She looked at him like he was a puzzle she wanted to crack. Part of him wanted to run the other direction, like he should have, but the rest of him knew full well if she had her sights set, nothing in the 'verse could stop her. All Jayne had to do was wait until she was done sniffing him out and hoped she found she wasn’t really all that interested to begin with.

“You like her,” River stated, waving a hand toward the dancer on stage.

“Sorta,” Jayne nodded, unsure if he should answer at all, but he felt like he had to.

“You liked that mercenary on Persephone and the prostitute at Prairie Home,” River continued mercilessly. “Is it about practical experience?”

“Experience?” Jayne asked. “Why’re you paying any mind to who I like at all?” He needed a pause button so he could think longer on the things he said before he said them. She was about to answer him and he didn't really want to know the answer.

“You’re not as ignorant as you pretend Mister Cobb,” River whispered. “I’d say my mind if I thought you wanted to hear it, but the echoes in your head are screaming at me to shut up louder than I can think.”

It was the first time River ever admitted outright she knew what he was thinking, and it sent chills straight to his bones. Jayne had seen and heard enough about her past. He knew what she was made of, what she could do and what had been done to her, but he never had to look it in the eye before. He was nobody. He never mattered to her, and she never paid him much mind. Things worked alright that way, but something had changed. She seemed to want his attention, maybe the dangerous kind, and that possibility finally came falling down on him like a big bookcase stacked too heavy and too high. All he wanted was for her to stop and make a little sense again.

“I said too much,” River sighed and sat back in her chair. Jayne was panicking on the inside. He couldn't take his eyes off her as she watched the dancer on stage. After a while she smiled and mimicked the dancers hand movements, fanning her fingers out gracefully and beckoning to no one. “Maybe I could be real if you’d never seen me busted. All piled up, like swept up shattered glass under a broom.”

Sometimes he said out loud that it hurt his head when she waxed poetical, but secretly, he liked it. Thinking on what she meant for a while distracted him from his worries. He felt smart understanding her, even though she didn't say it plainly. Too many people spoke plain. That really hurt sometimes, like getting punched in the gut, but it was your own heart delivering the pain. River’s words though, they were always so soft and sweet. Even when they were killing you.

“That’s a lie,” River said. She was still looking at the dancer, avoiding his eyes. Probably because he was still scared of her. “I bite, I laugh, I speak like everyone else, but you like pretty things.” She sighed quietly. “You only see what you want to see.”

Everything she said was true. He looked at her warily, saw what he wanted because it kept him safe. Truth be told Jayne was never very good at safe, or smart, but what she suggested went too far, even for him. Or maybe it didn’t. Maybe Jayne wanted her to turn around, read his mind, and make it easy on both of them. She could take his choice away. Tell him he had to give her what she wanted, and he’d do it because he would tell himself he had to. She was more than him in every way, and she was so far out of his reach he couldn’t imagine making a grab for her.

Suddenly River jumped up and reached across the table for the bag, dodging Jayne’s hands like the slippery little thing she was. He was surprised he even got a chance to reach to stop her, she was moving so fast. He looked around as he scrambled after her, clocking the empathy on the faces around them. Everyone thought they were having a lover’s quarrel. No one cared about what was in the bag. As soon as she hit the door she was running and Jayne was chasing after her.

It took her all of five seconds to lose him. Jayne wanted to punch himself, or drink himself dead before facing up to whatever the hell was going on in her head, but he headed back toward the ship anyhow. He wasn't in any hurry, mind, but he went all the same.

***

“River came back alone,” Simon said as soon as Jayne walked up the ramp. His eyes still weren't adjusted to the darkness of being inside after the bright light of day when Simon crowded up into his space dangerously. Jayne stepped around him and Simon reached out to stop him. Simon pulled back as soon as he thought better of it, but Jayne stopped anyhow. He wasn't angry at Simon for being over protective. He stopped being such a hypocrite years ago. “She’s still a fugitive technically. You can't let her wander alone,” Simon warned.

“You think I have any say in what she does?” Jayne asked. Simon pursed his lips in that stiff, pretentious way he did when he was wrong but didn't want to say so. “She was done with me, and she run off. You’d rather she stuck around had a few drinks with the local color?” Jayne snickered.

“No, but--”

“Doc, she can take care of herself,” Jayne said as he climbed the stairs. He was already weary of being River’s babysitter. Everyone knew she didn't need one, but they liked to pretend all the same. “You’re the one who fixed her up. Maybe you should take a little pride in that instead of acting like a mother hen all day.” Jayne didn’t stick around to see if his words landed. He didn't care.

Inside his bunk was quiet, cool, and all his. As soon as he sat down at his desk he saw the key laid neatly on the corner. The little thorny purple flower was right next to it though, and Jayne wasn’t sure what to make of it. Normal women folk were vexing when he delved too deep, but River was like a bag of glass and rocks waiting to beat him to death if he made a wrong move. For the first time in a long time he wished he wasn't single, just so he had an easy way of getting out of whatever it was River was thinking. She was confused, obviously, and Jayne had no idea what to do about it.

He picked up the puffy looking thistle, turning it carefully in his fingers. It was pretty. The dark purple spikes seemed like a flower, but Jayne had enough run ins with them to know better than assume. Staring at it for too long made him curious. He never looked at one close up. He never cared to. The long, thin petals were actually soft and a little sticky. He was careful enough to avoid the long thorns around the base when he sniffed it, but there wasn't much but a bit of green smell. He decided he liked it still, enough to slip the little bit of stem under the edge of the poster he had taped to his wall. It fit okay, didn't go anywhere, and that was good enough.

“You’re going to keep it?”

The sound that came out of him was easily the most humiliating noise he had ever made in his life. Almost falling off his chair didn’t help his dignity either. Reclaiming it seemed almost impossible after being scared half to death and making such a show. Still, he righted himself and looked around the room for River. His eyes eventually found her folded up in the corner at the end of his bed. She had one of his grey sheets wrapped around her. All he could see were her dark eyes and hair peeking out over the grey that blended right into the peeling greyish paint of the bulkhead.

At least he wasn't losing his mind. She was in a dark corner, and had camouflaged herself like she meant to.

“What’re you doing in here?” Jayne asked. He stood up and moved toward the door, just in case.

"Thinking," River answered quietly.

"Are you going to be here long, cause I can leave," Jayne offered. She didn't seem any happier than before, but he still had no idea what to do with her.

"It might take a long time, River warned. “Maybe so long I'm old and ugly and useless before I know for sure." River's voice trembled too much. Maybe it wasn't a lot, but it was more than Jayne wanted to take on.

"I'll go get Simon," he muttered as he made for the door.

"He won't let me ask the right questions," River said quickly. Jayne stopped with his hand on the door. His gut was pulling him back toward River, his head was screaming at him to get out as fast as he could. "He thinks what a brother should think, what Mal thinks, what Wash thinks--"

"Maybe you should talk to Inara?" Jayne offered.

"Her answers scare me," River said with wide eyes. Jayne wanted to commiserate, but he was sure Inara put River on edge for completely different reasons than his own. "You know about things. You understand, but you don't feel sorry for me." River dropped the sheet and folded her arms around her knees.

"Why would I feel bad for you?" Jayne scoffed. He hated when people felt bad for him, but it didn’t make him sad like it seemed to make River. Pity made him spitfire angry. Enough to see about taking it out on someone most of the time. "I mean,” Jayne continued, unsure why he suddenly felt like he could help somehow. “It's bad they cut on your head and did all that, but you're--" Jayne wasn't sure how to say what he thought without giving her the wrong idea. "Well, there ain't nothin wrong with you now, is there?" he offered finally.

The grin that broke out across River's face stunned him. He wasn't sure why she was so pleased, but it was better than her being mad, so he smiled back.

"Zoey feels bad for me,” River complained, erasing her smile too quickly. “So does Kaylee, and Wash. But Inara thinks I'm dangerous, and a child, like Simon and Mal."

"Well, I can see how that is a bit infuriating," Jayne agreed. He sat back down in his chair because it seemed like the right thing to do. “They all see me as a big scary man-child too.”

"I think so much about where I came from, Jayne,” River explained. “And why they made me like this," River sighed. "What if I was made purposeful? Designed by someone. Small and pretty, so no one would know what was inside?"

She had a point. One Inara would certainly have some terrifying ideas about. Ideas Simon would reject off hand if River asked because the truth would hurt him just as much as it hurt River. "If I was gonna build the perfect killer, I might hide them the same way," Jayne agreed easily. "You really think they fiddled with your genetics? They'd have to choose your ma and pa--" Jayne drew in a sharp breath, finally understanding why she really needed the information they were going to steal. "You wanna know if your parents signed up for it?”

The pain that flashed across her face hurt him. He couldn't imagine his own loving mother doing anything of the sort. He was lucky like that. Most of the rest of them weren't. "I can't sleep at night anymore,” River admitted. “I don't know if I'm theirs, and they lost me, or a monster and--"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Jayne held up his hands, hoping the tears that shimmered in her eyes might stay there if he stopped her, but she blinked and they fell. River looked at her hands and tucked her knees up close to her chest. He had to say something, but he didn't want to make it worse. "You're not something they mixed up in a tube,” he insisted a little too harshly. Jayne took a deep breath and softened his voice. “At least not all of you was planned.”

He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but he decided to say what he'd want to hear in her place. She probably wanted that, or she would have gone to someone else. “Look what you did?” he asked. “Ruining everything they planned. Takin' it all apart bit by bit till there's nothin left but you." Jayne surprised himself with how smart he sounded, but he'd thought about what River and Simon had done often enough. Seemed pointless to keep it to himself, especially if she could read his mind. "If they made you, they did it bad and you fixed it," he assured her.

The soft smile that flicked over her lips for the barest moment felt like a prize. "Even Simon thinks I might have been a mistake," River said too quietly. "An abomination."

"I've seen plenty abominations. You are not an abomination," Jayne insisted. Just the thought of someone saying such a thing made him angry. "We was all made for something,” Jayne stammered as River’s wide, brown eyes searched his face for answers. “God decided a long time ago. So, you're just like you're supposed to be,” Jayne said with just enough conviction he almost believed it himself.

"You don't believe in God," River said.

"I believe in something, and it sure does sound better than sayin' you're a happy accident," Jayne said with a wide wave of his hand. "Hell with all of 'em. You're the one I'm takin’ into a fight, and you're the one I ask when I wanna know why the stars look so different close up than far away,” Jayne reminded her. “That's the kinda thing that matters."

"You had no idea what I was talking about when I explained that," River laughed.

"Just cause I'm not smart enough don't mean it doesn't matter," Jayne insisted. "I'm a low bar."

"No you're not,” River scowled. “You utilize your intelligence in ways that benefit your survival and self possession. Everything you know how to do, you earned, just like the rest of us." River unfolded herself slow, like she was stiff from sitting a while.

Jayne was still thinking about what she said, trying to decide how much of a compliment she had just given him, when she took a step toward him. His bunk wasn't that big, one more step and she was almost on top of him. And things had been going so well.

“River, I’m not--”

“Don’t lie. It’s stupid.” River scowled at him again, unhappy about things he hadn't even said. “I’m not how you think. In your head I’m a predator, but I’m not. I don't want to kill. Just because I can doesn't mean....” River let her words disappear somewhere as her eyes fixed on his. Part of him wanted to hear what she had to say. He wanted to tell himself he'd listened and let her talk him into it, but mostly he wanted time so he could figure a way out. She was a grenade pulling her own pin and all he could do was sit and watch it happen. “I’m just a person Jayne, and you have a choice,” River said unhappily.

“Don’t feel like I got one, to be honest,” Jayne forced himself to say. He was scared, plain and simple, and River knew it. He appreciated her words in a way, but it was hard to believe they were true.

“You see more plainly than anyone else,” River insisted. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“The girl who killed every Reever left alive and came back without a scratch,” Jayne stated.

That was River. That moment defined her in his head. Of course, he didn’t expect River to flinch like he had hurt her with his words. In a way he admired what she had done, and he was forever grateful in a way he couldn’t describe. He was a gonner back then. He knew his time was up, but she held fate back that day. She was the hand of god. She was special. She meant something, and all Jayne seemed to be able to do was hurt her without meaning to.

Guilt seemed to be his best friend these days, especially when he couldn't say the right thing to her. At the end of the day though, River was a pretty girl. Secretly, Jayne hated himself every time he hurt something so fragile. The two sides of her just didn't match up. She left him confounded. Maybe it was easier, and better for the both of them, if he kept seeing her as a pretty girl and not a programmed killing machine.

“Maybe the killin’s a big part of it,” Jayne admitted, regretting what he was about to say before he even said it. “But you put me on edge more for being female than for being fierce.”

“I know,” River said.

“Then why’d you make me say it?” Jayne snapped.

“Because I wanted your ears to hear it.” River answered. The annoyance fell away from her face and she smiled a little. She was holding her hand to her mouth like what he said pleased her enough she might giggle. “You respect me,” she said with a giddy edge in her voice.

“I guess I do,” Jayne admitted. “More so than most people,” he nodded. He was digging himself a hole and he knew it, but it was too late. He had felt the scales tip and there was no putting them back.

“Your mother taught you the rules.” River smiled into her hand. “It would be okay if you followed them.”

“What would be okay?” Jayne asked.

“Courting me.” River’s hand dropped and her smile was so big and pretty Jayne didn't want to tell her no, or admit the notion nearly made him sick in his guts.

He couldn't do such a thing. No one would let him, even if he could get past the idea that if he thought about her that way he was going to hell.

“No,” River protested with a frustrated little gesture. She came at him all soft and needy, her arms draping over his shoulders before she climbed into his lap. He opened his arms to her without thinking or questioning it. After that, there was nothing in the world but the warmth of her in his arms. Her face was just too close to see anything but her dark eyes. “You like me,” she insisted. “I know you like me, just as I am.”

When her lips pressed soft against his, Jayne melted like a candle on a hot window sill. It was slow and easy, and he was never going to be able to go back to who he was before it happened. It had been so long since someone who knew him wanted to be close to him. He paid for the company he kept because he wasn't willing to lie about who he was to catch the naive ones anymore. Their faces flashed through his mind as River kissed him. She knew exactly who he was, and she was nothing like any of those other girls who didn't mind how he lived, or what he was willing to do for the right pay. River was a species all her own.

When he finally gave in and kissed her back, River’s hand moved gentle up his shoulder, then up his neck. Her fingers buried deep into his hair, like she really favored him. She wasn’t playing at anything. The kiss, her words, those could be faked, but the way she touched him was careful, deliberate, and just how he liked. A quiet sound escape from his traitorous throat when she pressed against him, her fingers scratching over his scalp just a little. Her hands and lips were exciting, her intention was clear, and his resolve was vanishing just as fast as the tension drained out of him.

Rudely, he reminded himself who he was and how murdered he’d be if anyone caught them.

Jayne drew back and took a deep breath before managing to sputter out, “we can’t--” He had to force himself to keep a hold of her and not dump her on the floor in a panic, like maybe he should have.

“Since when do you let everyone else decide what you can and can't do?” River sounded annoyed and exasperated, interrupting him before he could finish his last ditch effort to save his own hide.

“Since forever,” Jayne admitted. “Every time I try to take it on myself I end up rutted ten ways to Sunday.” It wasn't easy to say it, but it was the truth. Jayne suspected she meant to fire him up, get him angry enough to be a self righteous prick because he was pretty good at that. But it wasn't a fight she was offering, it was his survival at stake. Maybe hers too. “I’ve been on the wrong side of your best interest more than you should be right with,” Jayne reminded her.

“Who hasn’t?” River stated far too plainly. “Everyone who knows who I am, or what I am, could say the same, but you’re the only one who sees me.” River frowned like she was about to give up. Jayne wasn’t prepared for her to crumple against him like he could give her some kind of comfort. He didn’t think he could. All he seemed to be able to do was make her more upset. “You see everyone just like they are and it doesn't bother you,” River said while her fingers found the neckline of his shirt. “It's no bother to me either. I see all their faces, and I still love them.”

What she said made sense in a strange way. Jayne did see the bad, the good, and everything in between. What folk were made of didn't make much difference to him until it hurt or helped him. He didn't waste the effort on judging people. River was the same. She saw what she saw, but it didn't rile her up or worry her like it did Mal and Zoe. She was curious, but not half as much as Kaylee. She didn't judge because she had no need to. Her world didn’t work like that, and his didn't either. They both took everything as it came, and let most of it roll off before it sunk in. It was the only way to manage knowing what they knew about folks, and not hold it against them.

“Ma always said you needed to find a woman who agreed on how to live,” River muttered. Her lips moved against the skin of his neck as she spoke. She used his mother’s accent, which should have bothered him. Instead, he was flattered she would make the effort.

Against his better judgement, Jayne drew her close, his arms tightening around her hunched shoulders. “How do you know what my ma said?” Jayne asked. He knew the answer, he wanted to know if she'd be as honest with him as she was asking him to be.

“Radiant is a beautiful name,” River said with a painfully nervous pitch in her voice. Jayne wanted to cave in, trust her a little, give her something, even though he mostly hoped she would come to her senses still and see he was worthless. “Would she like me?” River asked.

Given what his mother cared about, namely grandchildren and being comfortable, she would probably adore River, but that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about. She wasn’t going to kill him for prying anymore, he was sure of it. Jayne could ask questions now, he hoped.

So he finally asked her outright, “can you read my mind River?” Her head shot up and her eyes were full of apologies, like she was sure he was going to be angry. He smiled instead, wanting her to trust him more than he wanted an answer in the end. “You don’t have to tell, I don’t mind if you can either way,” he promised. It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn’t a lie anymore either.

“It’s not ‘reading a mind’, in the vernacular,” River said tentatively. When he nodded, showing he understood, she continued. “I see more, feel everything. Like your brain waves and pheromones, and all the possible choices you might make laid out in a straight line. When I can make a straight line of it,” River explained. “It all comes together like a picture, and I just know.” River smiled suddenly. It was so hard to keep up with her emotions, but Jayne figured not reacting so much, just waiting for an explanation was best. “That’s not what you care about though,” River said with a soft smile.

Much to his surprise she pecked him on the lips again and smiled at him like he’d done something right. “You want to know if I can do anything with it, or hurt anyone. But I can’t, unless we’re fighting,” River assured him. “With fists, not words, but I suppose words hurt too. Just not how you're thinking.” She was rambling a bit, but still making sense. She sighed and touched his lips with the tips of her fingers lightly. “I can read minds sometimes,” River said in a slower, more intentional way, probably meant to show Jayne was getting his answer. “But it’s difficult,” she shrugged. “Everyone's minds are a jumble. It’s hard to understand.”

“I can’t imagine much is hard for you to suss out,” Jayne smiled. Finally getting a straight answer he actually understood made him feel better. “I can also imagine it’s pretty quiet around me. I don't got much going on up here.”

“Not like everyone else,” River agreed. “You’re a bird flying home, and they’re still trying to catch the worms.”

It was no doubt a compliment for being uncomplicated, thus easy for River to understand. Maybe Jayne should have been insulted, but he couldn’t imagine being in her head. All he ever wanted was someone he could be comfortable around and quiet with. Someone who might enjoy life with him, not try to change everything about him. He was sure he could be that for River, but he couldn’t imagine River being that person for him. She put him on edge, and that might never go away. One thing he was sure of though, he had no idea what she could do once she set her mind, or how he’d feel if she finally unraveled herself for him to see.

“You have your sights set on me cause I’m the only man around?” Jayne asked.

“You’re the only man around because we share similar life circumstance, and the desire for social separation, yet we strive to retain a fundamental sense of morality in an unjust and temperamental--” River stopped her wordy answer and sighed. “Yes, but I don’t need it. I want you because you caught my eye,” she said graciously.

“When?” Jayne asked.

“When I thought of you for crime. I came to the conclusion I trusted you more than anyone else because you weren’t going to try to talk me out of it,” River explained.

“You offered to pay me,” Jayne reminded her. “That’s why I said yes.”

“But that predictable standard you adhere to makes your judgement more sound than say, Simon. He takes so much away from me while trying to protect me, I’m more miserable than if he just let me fail.” River’s hand gestured wide and fell back on his shoulder. “You struggle with those ideas, but you usually come to the fair conclusion that you’re in no position to decide for anyone else. Unless you’re scared, then you act like a fool.”

“I don’t--” Jayne started to argue. It was a knee jerk reaction and he knew he was wrong the moment he opened his mouth. “Alright, I do that,” he agreed, even though he didn't like it.

“I act a fool when I’m scared too, and I over react with violence sometimes. I don't make a good leader either,” River pointed out. “When it looks like I might have done things just perfect, I’ve only run through the field too fast and fallen in the right well on accident.”

“Fair enough,” Jayne agreed. He couldn’t help but smile at her Riverisms. He had enough proof of it day to day, what she said was certainly true, they were alike in a lot of ways. “I still ain't sure what you really want from me?” Jayne reminded her.

He expected his question to confound her for a moment, but River sat up straight in his lap and grabbed his face again like he might be thinking of running away. “I want you to love me,” she answered in a clear, pretty voice, her eyes fixed on his like she wanted to eat him alive.

It was a kick in the gut, the truth of what she asked for. “Love is a complicated thing, River,” he said nervously, but really, he wanted to start making lists of all the reasons she was talking about silly notions she didn't understand. It sounded a bit like overreacting though, and she just explained how he wouldn't do such a thing unless he was scared.

Of course he was scared. River Tam was easily the single most terrifying creature he had ever met in his whole life, and Jayne had lived quite a bit. Admitting that wasn't anything to him. He thought so for years. Admitting she was also the most beautiful thing he had ever seen felt like he was sharing a dirty secret with his own self, but it crept in and took hold all the same.

“I suppose you’re not much different than anything else in my life,” Jayne said as she carded her fingers through his hair slow-like. “Not worth much if it don’t scare me half to death, or threaten to kill me first.”

River grinned, big and pretty. Her eyes were soft and happy, like he was finally saying all the right things. Jayne liked that better than being scared and confused by her, by far. He decided he was going to start thinking of her first, and leave the rest of it behind. It was all empty static anyways. River wanted to be what mattered to him. That was real. That meant something.

***

Standing very still behind his bunk door was nothing as unmanly as hiding. Jayne was just doing as River asked. He was waiting, and he wasn't eavesdropping, he was listening at his cracked door for impending doom. Simon was shouting a few minutes ago, but River’s sharp voice stopped that in a hurry. The crash that disturbed the relative peace didn’t sound good, neither did Inara shouting. The heavy footfalls ringing out through the bulkhead was a sure sign Mal was coming. Jayne expected it. Nerves had near ruined him since they finished River’s data lifting job on the outpost, and she decided on the way home it was time to say something to the others. Jayne didn't care what any of them had to say though, besides Simon and Mal.

That wasn't entirely true, but those two were his biggest problems, so they were all he cared about till the worst was over. Kaylee knew, River told her first, and she smiled at him at breakfast like he’d done something good. That tiny bit of encouragement held him up when River shoved him into his bunk a few hours later and told him to ‘hide’. Obviously, she meant wait. He couldn't well hide in his own bunk. So, that’s what he did until his door was pushed open with a bang loud enough to rattle his teeth. Jayne didn't wait for the captain to come in a drag him out. He rushed into the hall instead, meeting Mal head on, throwing everyone off kilter so they all went quiet around him.

Having an audience made him more nervous than the beating he was about to take. From the look on their faces, Jayne could tell they expected him to run, or start trying to talk himself out of it like he was guilty of something. He wasn't guilty, and he had nothing to hide or defend. River and Simon popped up at the end of the hall. River smiled at him and he smiled back. It was a mistake, Jayne understood that just as soon as the hands that grabbed him shoved him back into the bulkhead with a powerful force. Mal was more angry than Jayne expected. It was hard not to fight back as he took a hard kick to his leg, and a punch to the face that rattled his gourd good before he was dragged to his feet again.

“Qing wa cao de liu mang,” Mal spat at him. He had a tight hold of Jayne’s shirt and his fist was clenched, ready to come down again, but much to Jayne's surprise Inara stepped between them.

“Mal, look at what you’re doing!” Inara shouted. Mal took a step back, but his angry stare didn't flinch.

“I worked too hard to save her to sit back and watch her be ruined by the likes of you!” Mal shouted with a vicious sort of hate that hurt Jayne more than he expected. Inara turned to Jayne and reached out for him, but the last thing Jayne wanted was anyone touching him. “You think I’m going to let this happen on my ship?” Mal hissed.

“Mal, stop,” Inara pleaded.

“Do you--?” Mal took a deep breath and glared at Inara like she was the problem. “I won’t let her, I won't let you!” he shouted. “What is wrong with you?”

“His face is broken for one, and he’s not the one treating her like property, or a child!” Inara shouted back in Jayne’s defense. “She’s older than you were when you signed up for the resistance.”

“So, how does that--?” Mall tried to ask.

“You’re treating her like a child because she’s small and pretty, and because she wasn't well when we found them, but those things don't define her!” Inara shouted furiously. “You helped her, but you don't own her. Neither does Simon.” Inara crossed her arms and whatever face she put on was working. Mal scowled and averted his eyes, not liking what he found there much.

“As far as all that goes Captain, she’s got a higher body count than you could ever pull off,” Wash interrupted. “And I’m pretty sure she could murder us all while we were sleeping if she wanted to,” Wash laughed, but he meant it. “I don't really think Jayne is tricking her into anything. He can’t--” Wash looked over at him and shook his head a little like the whole thing was absurd, but he was determined to be a voice of reason. “Let’s be realistic. If there’s anyone being taken advantage of here, it’s probably Jayne.”

“He’s right, Captain,” Zoe agreed.

“She ain’t some prairie girl what lived in a maiden house her whole life,” Kaylee scoffed. Jayne could barely see her, but she stepped forward when Wash gave her space. “She might look like a pretty girl all the same, Captain, but that’s just the shine on the outside. Inside, I figure she's just as terrible as you are, and just as stubborn.”

“Have you all lost your gorramed minds?” Mal didn't seem to care about Jayne anymore. He was looking around like he had been betrayed by lunatics. “You want her to be with him?”

“Do you want her for yourself?” Inara snapped quickly, but Jayne still caught the chorus of unhappy looks that said very clearly none of them wanted River to choose Jayne.

Hurt guts and a busted up face was a lot less than he expected out of the deal, and it was nice for a second when it sounded like they were all on his side, but they weren't. They were on River’s side. Right where they should have been. In a way he was glad his gut hurt where Mal punched him. It was easier than feeling the pain in his chest all by itself. Not a one of them even took a moment’s pause. They all thought he was a worthless sack. Maybe he deserved it, all the mistakes he made. Not to mention all the time he spent being unkind, and too quick to say the worst thing. He wasn't worth all the trouble, but River was.

They were still fighting, flinging words around like ‘choices’ and ‘need’, like they had any idea what any of that meant to River when he laid down. His bed was soft and inviting. His pillow fit between his shoulder and his head just like he expected. Relaxing in his own bed should have taken the edge off Mal’s words, made it easier to drift away and forget what was still going on outside, but he made the mistake of leaving his door open a crack. He had to or Mal probably would have blasted it down. Plus, he wasn't walking out, he was only taking a break. Unfortunately, all he wanted to do when he heard the word ‘violate’ echo along the bulkhead was leave the ship forever.

There was no saving what he thought was the start of a pretty nice friendship with Mal, after all those years doing crime and fighting together. Simon would never accept him. Trying had been some kind of delusion River talked him into. Jayne bought it because River had a way of making everything seem possible.

“Jayne,” her small, pretty voice called to him from the doorway. He turned his head just enough so she knew he heard, but he wasn’t willing to move.

The sound of fighting all but vanished as his door clicked shut softly. He held his breath for a moment, relieved when her hands slid over his shoulders and his bed shifted a little with her weight. River climbed over him, sitting at the head of his bed, using his shoulder to lean on. She loomed high over him. Her long, thin fingers combing through his hair slowly. She didn't bother with the blood on his face or ask about the ache in his stomach. Instead, she watched him like she cared. Like she was just waiting for him to be better.

“I’m sorry about all that, Cricket.” Jayne caught her hand and pressed his lips to the pale skin above her knuckles. It was a sorry excuse for a kiss, but her fingers grazed his cheek like it pleased her anyways. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Right as rain,” River smiled. “You were right about Mal.” She draped herself over the side of his chest and laid her head on his shoulder, looking down at him thoughtfully. “You recall that time I cut your chest?” she asked like it was an easy story.

“We don't need to hash all that out.” Jayne wanted to frown, but he didn’t want to move that much either. “Unless I should apologize? I’m sorry for what I done then,” he added quickly when he realized he did just as bad right back, to her and Simon both after that.

“No, you were right,” River assured him. “You saw me for what I was back then, and no one believed you, not even Simon.”

“You weren't so bad. I was just wary and quick to temper is all,” Jayne assured her.

“You’re still wary and quick to temper,” River smiled. “That’s not the point. I was dangerous,” she agreed with a sudden scowl. “I could have killed you all. I thought about it a few times. Luring everyone into the airlock, or just shooting you all in your beds while you slept so Simon and I could have the ship and get away.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jayne asked. Her admission didn't surprise him. He had seen the look in her eye back then. Trapped animals did dangerous things.

“Because you saw me as dangerous. You looked at me like a was terrifying and it was like seeing into a mirror I couldn’t look away from.”

River’s eyes darted around the room quick. He knew now she was feeling it all like it happened just moments ago, but she wasn't letting it play on her face. That was one of many odd things Jayne had learned since they did the job on Sutter together. Talking to her was so much easier than it used to be because he finally understood the reasons behind most of her strangeness. All he had to do was ask, and she explained it all.

“I didn't want to be that monster you saw, the monster I knew I was,” River explained, “They made me that way. I wanted to be the sweet girl Kaylee wanted, or the lost sister Simon loved. I was angry because you wouldn’t let me hide and pretend to be her like everyone else did.”

“I wish I could say I was sorry for seein’ it that way, Cricket.” Jayne took her hand. Her fingers closed around his and held on.

“You should be proud. You kept everyone safe, even if you didn't know you were doing it.” River’s arm squeezed his shoulder enough to count as a hug, and he smiled enough to count as an answer. The memory of striking her after she cut his chest used to weigh him down some, after he found out how they messed with her brain. This time though, it ate at him worse than Mal’s words. “I shouldn’t have hit you--” he started to say, but his voice wasn't right and River’s hand gripped the back of his neck like she wanted him to stop talking, so he did.

***

Sorrow, pain, and anguish deep enough to drown in. And so close she should have been running. Instead, River anchored herself to it. Focused on it like a pinpoint of light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Mal had broken Jayne. Then the rest of them shattered him into pieces like a spray of dropped glass. Before, she was red, angry chaos, and he was cool, blue calm. Watching her close, wary of her slow, deliberate subterfuge. Then he was yellow and orange. Needy, ugly sadness. Insecure like a little boy, but only where love lived. Quiet and accepting, like a man who had been beaten too much, in his head. For him, she could be blue and gold, bright and warm.

Warm like a bath in Persephone’s ocean after too long in the black, starless space. That day, after more days than she dared count, stars, flying here, there, and everywhere, inside Serenity, they had gone to the sea. She had never seen Jayne so happy as when he dove into the warm, salty waters and called out for her to join him the moment he surfaced and caught wind. He didn't want to play alone, and he looked to her first. Didn't want her to miss it. Jayne never played with anyone else. He couldn’t make room for anyone but her. To him, she was always special, even when she was terrifying.

No one paid any mind to their fun that day in the ocean. Rolling their eyes, wading through the water slow and calm. Too much like old people. But she and Jayne played and chased each other, tagging and pushing. Water dancing like fish until they were both so tired they fell asleep in the sand. River and Jayne. Jayne and River, and no one between them. Even then, she didn't love him like she should have. She didn't know she was supposed to. Jayne was hers for so long, she didn’t think about what life would be like without him, until Darby offered him a good job, one he almost left them for.

One, two, three in space, Persephone, Jiangyin, Prairie Home, Boxer, M-97, Keys, and Laguna.

Those were the first ten times he wrapped his arms around her, held her tight, and pulled her out of danger, promising everything would be okay. After that, River stopped being surprised when he did it, and started expecting him there. Jayne could turn his brain off in just the right way and see ahead, same as she did, but he didn't know he was doing it. She counted on him day to day. She watched his reactions to make sure hers were right. Suspicious looks, pleased smiles, interest, danger, happiness, satisfaction from a job well done. If Jayne said it was so, it was so, because he wasn't the favorite like Kaylee, above it all like Simon, or favored like Inara or Book. He was needed, sometimes respected, and useful. So was River.

Being like Kaylee was impossible. She looked like Kaylee, dressed like Kaylee, talked like Kaylee, but inside they were oil and water. They only mixed well when there was something else tying them together. Simon was willing to die for her, but Jayne was willing to fight and save her even when his instincts told him not to. Blood was a bond that surpassed rational thought. Biology, perpetuation of the species and protection one’s own genetic bearers tied Simon to her in a way that justified love.

Nothing justified the things Jayne did for her. He made no sense, but instead of trying to tear him apart, she ignored him, teased him, poked at him playfully until she found his limits, then tested them again, just to be sure. Unfortunately, he didn’t know he was being played with most of the time. The analogy he used sometimes: a cat playing with a mouse. The cat thought it was great fun, but the mouse was terrified. Still, when he held her close, or fought, killed, and bled for her, River felt safe. She wasn't running when she was with Jayne. She was living.

He was the dragon that would burn the ‘verse to the ground before letting her go. He would destroy worlds without remorse, kill without hesitation, and take everything from anyone foolish enough to try and hurt her. He didn't do it because it was the right thing to do, or because they were born to the same people. It was love, pure and simple. Quantifying his actions any other way came up short, preposterous, absurd, laughable. Shepard Book said faith was real. River thought that was also absurd, but she had a little room in her head still for love.

It helped that there was science to back it up. Oxytocin, vasopressin, and pair bonding, no matter how unintentional. Lips pressed against the inside of her wrist. Her fingers curled into his beard, scratching just a little, how he liked. Simon sat in Jayne’s chair and watched her touch Jayne lovingly. Simon: quiet, uncomfortable, but unwilling to push back anymore because she gave him an ultimatum. She didn’t want to, but she had to make him listen. Simon was listening, but the room was quiet. The only thing talking was the truth of her threat hanging over them, waiting to ruin them all. She wouldn’t let it. She would steer the ship back to peaceful waters.

At first she wanted to love Jayne because she was sure no one else would ever know the truth of what she was and still find kindness for her. Then she realized love was like a tended flower, and hers was already overgrown. It kept growing whether you took control or not, but paring it, bending it, shaping it. Those things made it fit in the space she had left in her head. She wanted that space filled, and no one would ever fit as well as Jayne. He was made for her, or maybe she sculpted and tweaked him until he fit. She wasn't really sure. It probably didn't matter as long as Jayne was happy too.

Jayne was the joyous celebration of rebellion. Faith in the self that fostered and grew inside the rejection of order and law. He flourished under his own chaotic rule, and wilted in the hands of tyrants. She was the same, always the same. Jayne’s despair was her despair, his love was her love. His fears were hers as well, and she almost lost herself in the joy of it. As much as they all protested, loudly, it wasn't a bad way to go.

It was slow and easy between them, and it would probably take another hundred years to know all the ways they were alike, if they didn't meet bullets first. They were both so afraid of love, bullets sometimes looked like a better option than waiting for the sad, lonely end. They weren't cut out to be Captains, but they would both willingly go down with the ship. Serenity saved them so many times, that seemed only fair.

Twenty three and a half seconds since Jayne said he was sorry for hitting her years ago, before they knew each other. That was what normal looked like. Pausing, thinking, blinking, waiting. Being human, slow, and normal. Keeping thoughts inside the head, not dancing on the tongue. Acting on the outside like one still had an amygdala on the inside. River had gotten particularly good at pretending it was there. Letting her mind wander over life she'd already lived helped a lot. It prevented her from displaying her temporal dysplasia. The crispy, clean memories from so far back still felt like yesterday. ‘You remember the other day, Simon?’ she would say, and start telling a story from when they were so little they had stained shirts and sticky hands all the time. He would nod, smile, and listen, but he would look worried. Always worried.

“You saw me for what I was,” River finally assured Jayne. It felt like three lifetimes in her head, but Simon had only blinked ten times. When she forced herself to live in the moment sometimes the moment stretched out so long it was an eternity in one, single breath. “You struck me more kindly than you would have struck anyone else who slashed your chest open like that,” River said with what she hoped was a kind smile. Jayne gave her a sideways glance that said it might be true, but he still didn't like it. “Don't be sad now just because I have a pretty little face you want to kiss,” she teased. “If it was you, I’d have done a lot worse.”

A soft smile spread across his lips like a flower opening under the fresh light of dawn. His curled lip, the dimple hidden under short, rough stubble she didn't mind kissing anymore. It seemed like a fair trade that something so pleasant should be accompanied by scratchy, roughness. It made it feel more real. Balanced, like it wasn’t too good to be true. Jayne was so real sometimes, he might be exactly what she dreamed up, if she had been given the choice.

“You still want to kiss me, don't you?” River laughed. He liked her laugh, it felt good to laugh and make him smile.

“Course I do, but we agreed,” Jayne reminded her gruffly. His cheeks were wet. He would be ashamed of his tears if Simon saw them.

Her fingertips touched his cheek, erasing them under cover of shadow. Spreading them out so the heat of his his skin and the dryness of the recirculated air whisked the rest away. What was left of his pride was safe again. Jayne wouldn’t mind the blood, and neither would Simon.

“Simon said it was okay,” she said because it was the truth. Simon was thinking it, loudly, as he watched them. Simon was heartbroken for her, and moved irreparably by what he saw between them. He was chastising himself because never looked close before. He was always too busy staring at his own reflection in her face. He wasn’t wrong.

“It doesn't count if you made him say it,” Jayne reminded her.

She looked up at Simon, sure Jayne would be upset and annoyed he hadn't realized Simon was there with them. But it was Jayne’s fault for not looking, not asking, not seeing with all of his eyes. He was too busy looking inside himself, and that sort of thing got a person killed, unless there was more than one of them. She supposed it counted then, that she knew Simon was there. Jayne trusted her eyes. She trusted his. It was a fair enough trade, maybe Jayne wouldn't be angry when Simon spoke and revealed himself.

“She didn't make me say it,” Simon answered.

Jayne’s stunned eyes stared back at her, hurt and upset for the briefest moment, then his eyebrows smoothed out and he sat up carefully. Jayne felt betrayed. She didn't tell him Simon was there, true, but something odd took its place, like Jayne had expected him. He thought Simon had a right to be there, same as she did. River sat back in the bunk silently. She didn’t understanding Jayne’s reasoning, but she stayed by his side close enough their arms touched. She liked sitting that close, though she would like it better if they kissed as well. It wasn't the time or the place for it. Not with Simon watching them like they were lab rats and he was in charge of freeing them if they made it through the maze.

“Sorry Simon, I didn’t realize you were there,” Jayne said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. He spoke how Simon thought respectful should be. Of course Jayne knew. He always knew.

“It's okay,” Simon said quickly.

“No, it's not--I just--” Jayne stammered, suddenly careening through a hurricane of embarrassment and humiliation.

“You’re embarrassed I was touching you?” River protested. “But we weren’t even doing anything.” Dark looks from both sides of the room made her quiet. It wasn’t right, or fair. Everyone else had a different set of rules. They got to choose those rules for themselves, and she had no say in hers. “Neither of you--” she started to say, but stopped herself and counted to three in her head, loudly. If they talked, they would work it out. River was sure of it. “Sorry, please talk,” she sighed.

Staying quiet was going to be particularly difficult. After thousands of years of evolution she found herself, one of the most advanced beings in her species, dancing on the rim of civilization while being bartered over by two men like a cow. She listened to Jayne apologize, and Simon condescend. Then they switched, and switched again. It was too much, too infuriating to listen to. River was sure she should hold Jayne’s feelings into account at least, but neither of them were willing to listen to hers, and she was done with it.

“No,” she interrupted. Stopping Simon’s tirade of questions. “The two of you can talk when I’m done,” River stated as plainly as she could muster. Anger, rage, pain, hurt, fear and doubt flooded her body, but she held all of it at bay. Talked to herself inside her head until she dampened it down to a slow burn that just gave a little fuel to her voice. “I want what I want and neither of you is going to pretend you know better for me than I do,” River insisted. “You know for yourself, you speak for yourself, you live with your choices. I’m not living with other people’s choices anymore. They’re mine, Simon. Mine.”

“Being in a relationship is living with other people’s choices, River,” Simon said too calmly. He was irritated on the inside. It was like scratching nails on a chalkboard.

“Are you going to pretend you don't understand what I’m saying because I’m speaking plain enough for Jayne to understand?” River was a little pleased with herself for manipulating Simon when his eyes darted guiltily to Jayne then back to hers. “I choose for myself, and I’ve made myself clear, Simon.”

“Yes, you have River. I’m sorry for arguing with you about it earlier, I was just surprised is all,” Simon said patiently. It was too patient. He would have an outburst later, spew all of his concerns and fears and she would mop up the spill like she usually did. “So, you really did wait to do anything until you had permission?” Simon asked Jayne.

“If you mean permission like wanting to make sure I don't get shot for it, yeah,” Jayne agreed.

River smiled at Jayne’s pointed clarification. It held up her independence and still left room for caution and his sense of propriety. Still, it put the responsibility for overreacting square on their shoulders, where it belonged. Not hers, or Jayne’s.

“You’re not going to shoot him,” River stated, just in case.

“No, obviously. I’m not going to shoot him River,” Simon rolled his eyes and sat back in the desk chair. “How long has this been going on?” he asked, gesturing to Jayne’s room.

He meant the milk thistle, the blue stars she painted on his ceiling, the quilt she bought Jayne on Ginzoa. Evidence of River was all over his room because she spent so much time there. He talked to her, told her stories. Held her, and told her she was beautiful and perfect. All she wanted to do most days was soak him in, slow and sweet. It hadn't been that long, but it felt like a lifetime.

“A few weeks,” Jayne answered for them.

“It was my idea,” River repeated, just in case Simon forgot. His annoyed look said very clearly he hadn’t. Silently, Simon shouted at her about being safe, how insane Jayne was and horribly he had treated them. Every slight from the last five years paraded through his mind. From things Jayne said when he thought River couldn’t hear him, to his betrayal on Ariel. Simon knew she could hear him thinking. He was counting on it. “What you don’t know about Jayne could fill the cortex, Simon Tam,” River said more harshly that she should have.

“River, I--” Simon started to say.

“Back on Ariel, I knew he turned us in before we left, and I knew why he did it,” River admitted. “He wasn’t wrong, Simon. I was that dangerous, and I was terrified of it. But I was willing to go because the plan was so crazy I half hoped someone would panic and kill me.” The stricken expression on Simon’s face made her pause, rethink her words. The truth could be told many ways. “I didn’t want to die, but I did at the same time,” River tried to clarify. “I wasn't thinking about you. I was thinking about how much it hurt to be awake. Then you went and saved that man. You saved him like you should be doing right now.”

River realized she was standing and Jayne was holding her arm, worried she was going to do something bad. She wasn’t. She was just filled with the memory, how keen and real it still was. If she closed her eyes she could go back and watch it all unfold again, and again. It was tempting to lose herself in it for a moment, just to be sure she was right.

“Jayne saw the real you then,” River continued instead. “His eyes opened, then mine did too,” she tried to explain in plain speak. “He had a lot of questions and feelings when you told him about how they cut up my brain. Jayne decided I was more than a killer waiting to strike, and I decided right then I wanted to live. I wanted to be more. I wanted to save you, and him, and everyone, but I--” River seized up, throat tight and chest aching.

The unchecked, unfiltered flood of chemicals from her hypothalamus attacked her nervous system brutally, forcing her to feel more than she could because she had stopped focusing on calm. She was focusing on making her point, being heard because Simon wasn't really listening. His mind said she was looking at all of it with romantic eyes. He thought she was a child in the grips of first love. He didn’t know her near as well as he thought he did, and it was infuriating. Like being lorded over by a temperamental child sometimes.

Warm hands held her up though, then hugged her very tight. The pressure induced a nervous response that unraveled the anxiety that clawed at the inside of her chest and turned everything to white noise. A deep voice that sounded nothing like doctors or soldiers, or anyone else who ever wanted to hurt her, asked River kindly to take a deep breath, so she did. The isometric pressure of Jayne’s arms around her chest, coupled with straining against them to breathe, triggered her brain’s primal survival instincts. Her primitive brain abandoned everything that had overwhelmed her in favor of being calm and not suffocating.

Jayne called it a life hack. It was like a reset button she accidentally stumbled onto when she was lying awake one night trapped between the bulkhead and a very heavy, sleeping Jayne. She started to panic, then she felt a strange kind of calm, then she remembered the hundreds of years of study on isometric pressure therapy that was abandoned when pharmaceuticals became effective enough to make it obsolete.

Once she was calm and collected, River ran a hand up his arm and he loosened his grip, He held her close but he was quiet. He didn’t say sweet things to her like when they were alone. River had gotten used to that. She missed it. The smell of stress and pain lingered around him like cloud. It tricked her brain into triggering fight or flight response. She was hypersensitive, but it wouldn’t last long, not like before. Not like when she didn't know how to fix it.

“Are you okay, River?” Simon asked quietly.

River nodded because Simon’s doctor-like voice was like gunshots and orange flares behind her eyes. It was something she needed to get past. Being afraid of doctors when her beloved brother was one.

“Give her a second, Doc,” Jayne whispered kindly.

Time meant nothing when she let it all go black. Dancing on the rim was good for something. Vastness of space, only a few voices in the sky instead of a hundred thousand on a planet. A few voices she cared about, and remembered when it came time to make decisions.

“Captain, what do you really think he’s going to do that she don’t ask for?” Kaylee asked. “My guess is you should be more worried for him than for her. She’s sweet, and I love her more than life, but she’s got a darkness in her.”

“So does Jayne,” Zoe warned.

“Since when do we have an opinion about these things?” Wash asked. “And when did we start talking about it like we have a say?”

“I have a say, it’s my ship,” Mal insisted.

“No, actually, you don’t. And if you do, I think I might just take my leave, thank you very much,” Wash insisted right back.

The last of the emotional echoes still bounced around in Serenity’s hull. The conversation was long gone. Everyone had calmed down, but evidence of the explosion still clung to the walls. When she opened her eyes again the lights were low. She probably didn't need them that way, but it made her feel better anyways.

Simon was stretched out in the chair, his ankles crossed, chewing on his thumbnail like he used to when he was a kid. “Are you okay?” he asked as soon as he saw her open eyes.

Jayne pulled her down to the edge of the bed before she had time to think of an answer. Flooded with dopamine, endorphins, adrenaline and countless other stimulants wore a person out. “I’m alright,” River nodded. “Just tired.”

“I have a lot of questions right now, but I’m going to write it all up and send them to your interface, if that’s okay?” Simon asked.

“Questions about what?” Jayne asked.

“I’ve never seen her recover so fast from an anxiety attack,” Simon said with a scowl, “and the absurd idea she turned to you when her executive decision making skills were in question back then is--” Simon gave Jayne a tight smile when he stopped himself from saying more offensive things about Jayne. “Just promise me, if I go now. You won’t....” Simon took a deep breath like he was talking himself into saying what he wanted to say.

When he didn’t Jayne huffed, “you mean don’t have sex.”

“Please, my sister doesn’t know about that sort of thing, and--” Simon stopped and stared at her and River realized she was smiling so big, she was about to laugh. “What?” Simon asked abruptly when Jayne did laugh, even though he was trying not to.

“You think she doesn't know about that sort of thing?” Jayne snickered. “Your folks sent her off to some genius school when she was fourteen with a bunch of other bored genius kids, and you think she didn’t get up to some trouble?”

“No, there was supervision and a code of conduct,” Simon protested.

“We got implants and weekly nurse visits Simon.” River wanted to laugh too, but her eyelids were getting heavy and Simon was so tedious sometimes. “I took the implant out myself when you found me because I thought they were using it to track me.” She yawned and crawled up on the bed behind Jayne. “There was also the clerk on that land management heist, and the assistant manager on the grocery con,” River grinned when she recalled the assistant manager’s surprised expression when she kissed him. He wasn't shy after that though.

“She’s probably gotten more ass than I have,” Jayne chuckled softly.

“I need to go.” Simon made the chair rattle he got up so fast. “I have to--I’m going to go now.”

Being particularly kind, Jayne waited until Simon was out the door to laugh one last time. When he was done cleaning the blood off his face he slipped into bed next to her, holding her close so they both fit on the skinny mattress. The next time they stopped she was going to ask Kaylee to get a new bed fitting, since she could finally. Kaylee wouldn’t ask questions now.

“I’ll explain the rest to Simon later,” River promised.

Jayne was quiet for a while, but he was thinking. Long, slow linear rationale that locked together solidly, like a chain. Thick links held everything in place, and the ones he didn't like he hacked away at until he was sure they weren’t good anymore. Jayne didn't leave things untested. He forged new links cleanly, using the evidence he had at hand. He trusted no one except himself, and River. Sometimes Mal. Listening to him think was a soothing waterfall of humanity that was so easy for her to understand, she just waited until he figured out what he was going to figure out on his own, then spoke up when he was almost done.

“It wasn’t absurd that I turned to you back then,” River said quietly. “You made the most sense of anyone. Simon assumes his way of thinking is superior, but it only works in his brain. Almost anyone could understand yours, but that doesn't mean you're not intelligent.”

“That sounds like common sense you're talking about,” Jayne said.

“That’s right,” River nodded. Jayne pulled her hair out from under his arm, twisting it up in a neat little knot he didn't expect to stay. It hovered on her head for just long enough for both of them to get comfortable. Then her hair tumbled down over the pillow and fell on Jayne’s arm. “Should I cut my hair? It gets in the way a lot,” River asked.

“No it don’t,” Jayne said quietly. His nose was pressed to the back of her head, muffling his words. “Just givin’ me reasons to touch it is all.”

“You can touch my hair anytime you like,” River giggled. “You don’t have to have a reason.”

“I think your hair likes me, always tryin’ to get my attention,” Jayne said playfully.

“Stop being funny. I’m trying to sleep.”

“Sleep? I thought you was trying to get fresh with me?” Jayne said with a funny little gasp. He was far from scandalized. His hands weren’t planted firmly around her shoulders, like usual. Instead the arm that wasn’t trapped under her head was draped over her waist, and his hand was tucked under her hip. It wasn’t much, but it was an improvement from the cautious nervousness he usually approached her with. “I love you, River,” Jayne confessed. “I think I have for a long time now.”

“I know,” River assured him. “I love you too, Jay. Get some rest.”

***

Wash laughed at him, but Kaylee looked downright excited.

“You call her Cricket?” Kaylee asked with a huge, wild eyed grin. She slipped another slice of apple off his plate, so he grabbed another one to cut up from the box. Between Wash and Kaylee he had maybe a quarter of the first one he picked up, but he didn't mind. He sliced another bit off the new one and handed it to Wash before he could steal it. “Come on, you gotta tell us all the cute things!” Kaylee pressed. “It’s so sweet and I want a hundred more reasons to like you.”

“Yes, please,” Wash agreed around a mouthful of apple. “Being bribed with good food and happy, kindhearted Jayne is not enough. We demand more,” he laughed.

“Yes, I call her Cricket,” Jayne admitted. “And she calls me Jay.”

“Jay is just short for Jayne,” Wash said around his slice of apple. “Personally, I don't know why you didn't adopt that much more manly version of your name years ago--” Wash stopped and smiled like he was sorry, but they both knew he wasn’t. “But it’s still cute. Very cute pet name,” he nodded.

“Why Cricket?” Kaylee asked.

“Because they’re just a little thing, but it only takes one to keep you up all night,” Jayne chuckled. The two of them didn't laugh though. Wash looked over at Kaylee, who was frowning like he said something wrong. “Talking,” Jayne said gruffly. “We stayed up all night talking, you perverts.”

“Oh,” Wash laughed. “Talking, right--but no, that doesn't make any sense either.”

“It’s cute,” Kaylee protested, but her argument was weak, like she didn't believe they had that much to talk about.

“Do you know the rpms of a fifty caliber Moses platinum?” Jayne asked.

“No, I do not, but if I did it might sound impressive and heroic,” Wash laughed.

“Neither did I until a couple nights ago,” Jayne said. Watching Wash’s eyebrows climb his forehead and Kaylee’s grin come back was reward enough for the pretty penny he dropped on the crate of fancy yellow apples. “I could talk her to death with stories about shootin’ people and stealin’ things,” Jayne admitted, “but truth is, her stories are better than mine.”

“I guess they are,” Wash agreed. “I’ve heard a few, but they were sort of--” Wash made a face like he was both disgusted and terrified, then smiled and nodded. “The two of you really are made for each other,” he laughed. “You’re the me in your relationship.”

“I’m the you?” Jayne asked, wary of being compared to Wash for any reason.

“Yes,” Wash nodded as he took an apple from the crate and bit into it hazardously. “You are the adequately skilled technician who happened to be good enough to end up on this unfortunate boat, standing in complete awe of a warrior woman so majestic you are absolutely certain you do not deserve her, but you’re thankful every moment of every day she chooses you.” Wash leaned back in his chair, pleased with himself for being so astute.

Kaylee was watching him, wide eyed, waiting to see if he agreed. “That’s a bit wordy, but true,” Jayne muttered.

“I think I’m a little bit in love with you, Jayne Cobb,” Kaylee said loud enough for the whole planet to hear. She leaned over the table, barely avoiding getting stabbed by his apple knife, just to hug his head and kiss his cheek. Jayne wanted to be annoyed but it felt too good to be congratulated, like he done something right finally. "River, I'm stealin’ your man!" Kaylee shouted toward the cockpit, trying to tease him more. Jayne tried not to laugh, but Wash was making stupid faces too. It was a losing fight.

"You can have him!" River shouted back.

"That is exactly what my Zoe would say," Wash sighed. "I'm downright inspired. I'm going to go find my loving wife now. Maybe see if she wants to stop by the bath house."

"Oh, they have saunas. Mal and Simon went late last night." Kaylee let him go in favor of following Wash. "You mind if me and him tag along?"

"Not at all. There isn't much else to do on this strange little moon," Wash said as he waited for Kaylee to catch up with him. “We have to leave before dark though. That's when the orgies start.”

“Orgies?” Kaylee gasped. “No--but they...” she laughed. “But do we have to, have to? Are they only for the locals?”

A moment later he was alone in the kitchen. He wasn't supposed to be bothering River while she worked, but taking a break sounded like a fair idea. Jayne cut up and apple for River and grabbed one of the plums he’d hidden in the bottom of the crate. When he stepped into the cockpit everything looked perfect, cleaner than usual even. River wasn’t working on anything he could see.

“Can you hand me the UF coupler?” River asked. Her hand waved at him from the open ventilation duct in the ceiling. He grabbed the yellow handled pliers hanging off the open grate and put it in her hand. “Thank you,” she said brightly.

“I got food here, if you wanna take a break?” Jayne asked.

“Almost done,” River said as something snapped. “Turn on the coms.”

Jayne set the plate of fruit down and flipped the com line open. A radio station came to life and River laughed. Jayne wasn’t sure what was so remarkable about the radio, but he smiled anyways because it made River happy. The pliers clattered to the floor, along with a handful of other tools before the sound of Serenity’s electrical plating snapping into place reported the job was done.

“You want a hand out?” Jayne offered. River reached for him and he pulled her out of the ventilation shaft with one good tug. She was wearing a nice purple sundress and no shoes, not the overalls he expected. “You’re covered in dust,” he said. “A mite impressive amount at that.”

“Wash was fixing the nav screen and he had all the tools out, so I offered to fix the radio.”

“Were you dressed up to go out?” Jayne asked.

“I was,” River smiled as she patted some of the dust off her dress. It didn’t do anything for her face, arms and legs though. “Plums?” She rushed right past Jayne, not caring much about how dirty she was when he had her favorite snack. He brought it all back from the farm they parked next to. She sat down in Wash’s chair to eat, and when she was done with it River grabbed a slice of apple and pointed at the ceiling. “You know what a paper tiger is?” she asked.

“No idea,” Jayne said as he got comfortable on the floor next to her.

“The lyrics of the song that's playing,” she said. “It’s something that looks scary and vicious but doesn't have any bite. Most times a person.”

“The opposite of you then?” Jayne rubbed at a spot of dust on her leg but it didn’t go anywhere.

“I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” River said as she pinned his shoulder to the console with the ball of her foot. He tried to move, but his arm was stuck like someone had shackled him in. Pressure points. River was teaching him.

“I heard of that, and you don't have to prove it to me.” Jayne swatted at her leg and she let him go. “You want to clean up and head into town?” Jayne asked as he rubbed at his shoulder to make the tingle go away.

“No, I wanted to go into town to get away from everyone.” River devoured the last of her apple and slid to the floor with him. Suddenly having a lap full of River wasn't bad, but it did surprise him. “Everyone is gone.” He gathered her meaning when her hair fell all around his face and her lips found his. She pulled away faster than he liked though, jumping to her feet before she was dragging him up on his. “Not here, outside,” River demanded.

Suddenly they were running and Jayne was struggling to keep up. River vanished around the side of the ship, and Jayne rushed after her. “River, slow down,” he called out. “The dirt ain’t goin’ anywhere.” Around the side of the ship she seemed to have got away from him. It had to be a game because it was always fun and games with River. Her small footprints vanished just past the landing gear. Once he knew where she was he didn’t even look to make sure, he just raised his hand to help her down.

“No,” River huffed. Jayne laughed when she grabbed his hand and fell to the ground next to him. “It’s no fun if you don’t play.”

“What? You hid, I found you,” Jayne said as he grabbed her and hauled her of her feet. She wrapped her legs around his waist, clinging to him easily, like they’d done it before. It was the first time though, and it felt good.

“I already know you can find me,” River said before she kissed him. “You’ll figure it out,” she assured him before she pressed deeper, demanding more. Before he had near enough, she let him go and pulled him toward the rear of the ship, close to the engine. “Don’t think bad things,” she said as she pulled up the hem of his shirt. “You know how you do when you don't want to get off?” she asked. “Don’t do that. Just let it happen.”

Part of him was frozen in place. There was no discussion, no terms or warning. It was happening right here, right now, because River wanted to. It was never going to be different, no matter how many sweet fantasies Jayne had about spoiling her in a nice boarding house or hotel. He lifted his arms because it was what she wanted, but he still had questions.

“Have you been spying on me after you leave?” he asked.

“Yes,” River admitted shamelessly. “You don't care. Sometimes you think maybe you know I’m doing it.” His shirt hit the dusty ground and she went for his belt. He wanted a reason to argue, but she was right. “Down,” she demanded. “All the way.”

Doing exactly as she asked, Jayne dropped to his knees and fell to the ground gracelessly. Artfulness wasn't how they did things, and he wasn't about to start because she finally decided she wanted the rest of him. After leaving her underwear in the dust right along side his shirt, River followed him down, straddling his hips before she covered him with her long, lithe body. He didn't waste any time getting his hands on the thick thighs that held him right where she wanted him.

“I got another implant,” River said close to his ear. He nodded, not minding really, either way. Kids might be nice someday. “Later maybe, when we’re done traveling,” River assured him. The idea of settling down seemed absurd a few months ago, but it was possible if River said it was.

As his hands moved up her hips and into her dress, Jayne realized not once did he think about how guilty or unsure he should be. None of that had existed for a while. He closed his eyes for a second, ashamed of himself for not figuring out sooner that was probably why they waited so long. There was no way it was going to be fun for her until his thoughts were clear and filled with her, and her alone. It seemed so obvious in hindsight, but he’d been too busy thinking about himself to catch it.

He wanted to give her his undivided attention. Jayne circled her waist and moved his hands higher, waiting to see what she wanted from him. She sat up and pulled her long dark hair over one shoulder, then unbuttoned her dress. Saying she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen felt like small, silly words. She was fierce and demanding, then soft and kind, like she was testing him out, seeing how he worked. He wasn't sure why. He was hard as a rock and wanting the moment she kissed him. He thought that was proof enough. He didn't need any special treatment, but River didn't agree.

Having her touch him so carefully, then slide warm and soft against him, was like waking up on the first clear day after a long, dreary winter. Wanting River and waiting always felt worth it, but he didn’t know how right he was until she was hot and needful all around him. She blocked out everything else, even the sun. As she kissed him, drawing him further into their small perfect world, Jayne finally let himself kiss her back for real. She moaned and smiled against his mouth as he clutched her hips, hoping she’d slow down.

It was clear she had no intention of doing so when she sat up and grabbed his hands. She moved them to her chest, her shoulders, then her neck before letting them go to do as he pleased. Unashamed of his trembling hands, Jayne pushed her dress off her shoulders and explored her soft, pale skin the way he wanted for far too long. She arched into his hands, her knees tight against his waist as her fingers dug into his chest. It didn’t matter that she wasn't gentle. He didn't care as long as she felt good. She rode him hard, like he expected, but he held up, and he didn’t let his mind wander anywhere dark.

When she fell over on him again, her lips were teasing and close, but not quite touching his, and her eyes were as soft and satisfied as her smile. She was glowing and drunk from the pleasure. It wasn't fair for her to do the work anymore, so he rolled them over. River laughed a little and kissed him playful-like until he drove into her, hard and slow. Her fingers slid into his hair, tightening like she meant to hold on. She gasped and said his name gloriously because it still felt good, even when she was coming down. He didn't last long, couldn’t, not with such sweetness wrapped around him.

He was a goner, bought and paid for, owned heart and soul. Something Jayne would have sworn to high heaven was impossible a couple years ago, but there he was, face pressed against her neck, gasping because he was relieved. Finally, perfectly relieved, and it was better than anything he ever had, or imagined, ever before.