Disclaimer: River and Jayne aren't mine.
Written as a short challenge fic.
Jayne
I aint one for fancy talk.
Or talk at all as a matter of fact. So it's kind of nice that she don't speak to me. Not out loud anyways. That whacked out moon brain of hers probably shuffles through my thoughts easy as she deals out a poker hand though - and the girl can play.
She just floats on in all confident like when I aint expecting her, those pretty brown eyes innocent and knowing, and helps herself to what she fancies.
My guns.
What's left of what I'm drinking.
Me.
Started after Miranda. Guess Simon had Kaylee and the Captain had 'Nara and Zoe aint the comforting kind. Made sense she'd come to me - weren't like there were any other options, and I'm not smart enough to ask her stuff she don't want to answer.
She can take apart and reassemble Vera faster than I can now, and to tell the truth that don't sit well. Like the two girls were conspiring or something. Both all long, lean lines and pretty to look at until you bring them into play.
We did that the first couple of weeks. Stripping down the guns and putting them back together. I think she liked the routine and fixing all the parts back together. She did it graceful like. Those pretty little fingers dancing over the steel and putting the guns back all neat and tidy.
Don't matter what Mal or her brother says - I never laid a hand on her before she asked me to.
It was her that came to me.
Now I'm the one stripping her, and I like to think I'm putting her back together when slips into my bunk at night. The Doc can't put her brain back together, but I reckon there's something she needs more, and in the dark she's just a woman next to her man.
But she's gone in the morning and she never says a word.