Disclaimer: Joss is Boss…
A/N: I love Jayne. I love River. I love the idea that Jayne makes her real….so I wrote this when I was on the crack. At work. Anyways, Jayne PoV, VERY Post-BDM, Rayne. So read, enjoy, let me know what you think.
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He was ten when he broke his momma's favorite vase, been real coral and everything. Til the day, he don't think he'll ever forget the sound it made when it hit the smooth tile, the crack that he's sure the whole town heard— or the sight of it, all the tiny pieces he and Mattie couldn't glue back together proper like before Momma came home. The fact that he'd gotten his backside beaten raw because of it is hard to forget too.
Truth of the matter is that he ain't ever had careful hands and he don't see it happenin' no time soon.
And usually that don't bother Jayne Cobb none.
Whores ain't ever asked him to be gentle and Vera certainly couldn't be handled by some soft handed pansy piece of go se.
He's made his life outta bein' a big mean merc, the hired muscle, and a gentle touch ain't exactly ever been required in his line of work.
But then there's her, all small like next to him—especially next to him he should think—a little slip of a girl that probably don't weigh half of what Vera does wet.
She's tiny and pale as buttermilk, little hands and thin arms and big ol' eyes that stare up at him through that hair of hers that he don't think has ever been tied up (not that he wants it to be), starin' at him like no body else ever has.
Little slip of crazy girl right next to a big mean wolf, just askin' to get herself eaten, standing there, looking all kinds of wonderful with hardly no clothes on 'cept that thin sheet of feng le fabric she seems to be callin' a night gown. He'd a thought her brother to have more brains than to let her out in something like that.
"Too preoccupied with Kaylee's night clothes to take into account her own." She says steppin' closer.
All of Serenity hums in sleep around them and Crazy takes another step towards him, the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. She's awfully pretty when she smiles.
"That so, Girl?"
She nods and settles into his lap and his hands form fist at his sides at the initial impact of her, all warm and such against him.
"Does not wish to talk about Simon now. Wishes to occupy herself with other means."
He can't stop the smirk that spreads on his face at her words. "What kinda means you got in mind then baby doll?"
A pale hand slips down his chest and his breathin' hitches at the feel of her palm rubbin' against the faded purple line on his chest. His heart picks up beneath her hand.
He settles his own hands on her hips, hips she tilts just so, the sharp angle of the bone pressin' against the palms of his hands, and she smiles, all teeth and the coral tip of her tongue where it sneaks out to wet her lips. 'Ain't nothin' but a slip of a girl,' he thinks, 'just bones and big eyes.'
"You gonna get me thrown out the air lock, Crazy." He hisses, as is their way, the words worn now after being uttered so many times.
She doesn't answer, instead of her usual giggle she leans towards him, eyes shinin', and that Cheshire grin of hers fades into something softer, something that makes him feel more than a bit ill at ease. "Daddy won't hurt you. Wants her happy. Jayne makes me happy."
'Happy,' he thinks as she presses a kiss against his cheek. Sides his ma, he don't think no body's been happy with the likes of him.
He ain't quite sure how to answer that.
Almost makes him want to smile, the thought that Crazy found something worth bein' happy 'bout in him. He ain't about to question her. He's never cared for looking a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if that horse got a mouth like hers.
She starts doin' the hip thing again and all thought is successfully thrown out the air lock, makin' her way across his jaw until she finds his lips and presses that pretty pink mouth of hers against his. He don't stop her. Never has—and the thought that maybe he should of don't cross his mind.
He moves his hands up then, pulling the flimsy piece of fabric as he goes, careful not to catch her hair as he pulls it over her head.
She tilts her head to the side, leaning forward til her head rested against his shoulder, 'Makes her a real girl,' she sighs real lightly, almost so he can't hear her at all. He wraps his hand 'round the back of her neck, skin softer then anything he ever had the joy of paying before.
Fingers weaving in her hair, her head cradled against his palm, he thinks he could snap her in half in a heart beat.
And that's what he's afraid of in the end. There ain't a lot in the world that Jayne Cobb easily admit to being afraid of, 'sides reavers and occasionally Zoe—with or without a gun—but he rightly admit to being terrified of breakin' her in some way. He ain't ever been a careful man, ain't ever been gentle neither, but he ain't ever been with no slip a girl who's seen things that still make her throw a fit in her nightmares from time to time—and he would know, having been on the receivin' end of those little fist when she was havin' an episode as the doctor liked to call them. Still that don't change the fact he's still afraid, especially when she's all manner of warm and delightful in his bunk.
He's afraid one wrong move on his part and she'll shatter, like his momma's coral vase, thousand shiny pieces on the floor that don't fit back together properly.
Jayne knows that if that should happen he won't be needin' Mal or the Doc or even the air lock to put an end to him.
"Won't break." She whispers all quiet like against his ear. "Already broken, can't be broken further."
Then she kisses him, only different from before and he's drownin' in her, the taste of mint and chocolate, real chocolate like he ain't he had in a real long time, dark hair like a net 'round them. Cuts him off 'fore he can even tell her to stay outta his head, put she probably knows it already. Gorram girl knew everything there was to know. Except how fix herself, she'd told him that once.
"Jayne keeps her safe, fills the cracks and holds her together. Makes her think it will stick now."
He kisses the side of her neck and she lets her head drop with a sigh, and he feels the sharp angle of her hip pressin' against his palm all the harder.
"It'll hold, baby doll," He says against her skin, "It'll hold."
And he wants to believe it.
End
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