Author: Green Owl
Title: Photuris: Through With You
Disclaimer: I don't own or buy/sell/process this mind crack - I just abuse the hell out of it."Ya sure this is a good idea?" Jayne asked, lookin' up at the sign on the seedy-lookin' edifice, feelin' a low, ominous gurglin' in the general vicinity o' his belly.
They were standing outside of the Maidenhead, one of Jayne's favorite watering holes in Beaumonde. It was a shiny unite of classy an' trashy, an' he liked to the watch the fan dancers do their thing while drinkin' down a bottle or six. For the life o' him, he couldn't see no rationale for why Little Miss Crazycakes would wanna associate with any o' the whores, mercenaries, and lowlifes who frequented the place.
On second thought, mayhap makes perfect sense, her bein' all manner o' tetched…
"I agree," River said, giving him a cool, shadowed glance. "It is not a good idea."
Jayne exhaled, glad she weren't goin' wonky on him or nothin'. "Good, 'cause I'm through with ya draggin' me 'round this city. Let's git the hell outta h – "
"It is a brilliant idea," she declared, and opened the door.
Jayne shot out a long arm and grabbed her as she was about to walk in. "Bad music in there, darlin'. Ain't no place for no deranged, upmarket lil' Core girl like ya."
"Please distinguish the mind-reading genius of this pair," she said, and looked down at her upper arm where his fingers were wrapped around her.
He let go of her at once.
She smiled at him as she reached out to slip her arm through his. "Thought so."
"Ya know, when ya said my body was yers 'to do with as ya pleased', this ain't what I had in mind," he complained as he escorted her inside.
"I still have two hours, six minutes and twenty-nine seconds, so no honking, s'il vous plait," she said, presenting her ident card to the bouncer.
"I'll 'honk' if I gorram want to," Jayne shot back as he presented his card as well.
He got a lil' nervy, noticin' that the bouncer gave their cards only a cursory glance and spent more than a little bit o' time eyeballin' the girl. She was wearin' some o' her new clothin', a little indigo cipher and a black shrug-thingie that made her look like a little girl. Jayne felt a bit pervish as he caught himself lookin' down her neckline.
"How old are you, miss?" the bouncer asked as he handed Jayne his ident card but kept hers.
"How old does that say I am?" she replied, pointing to the card.
Jayne could almost taste the icily polite "who-do-you-think-you-are-backbirth?" hoity-toity-ness that was rollin' offa her in waves.
"Says here you're eighteen," the bouncer replied, handing the card back to her.
"Then I'm eighteen," she said, taking it and sliding it into her carrier.
"She of age?" the bouncer asked, turning to Jayne.
"I sure hope so!" Jayne exclaimed.
"Num-ber wuh-un," she reminded in a light sing-song tone as she dug her fingernails into the crook of his elbow.
"What?" he protested.
She gave Jayne a condescending glower before she returned her attention to the bouncer and gave him a slow, sweet smile. "Shall I show you my wisdom teeth for verification?"
Jayne glared at the bouncer, intent on scratchin' that disc before the sleaze even tried to load it.
The bouncer ignored him as he gave her a smarmy smirk. "Damn, girl, I like your style. Open wide!"
"Rut off, buddy!" Jayne snarled as he yanked her up 'gainst him. "Mine."
"Hey, just playin', man. Don't want no trouble," the bouncer said, making a waving motion with one of his hands. "She can go in."
"Thank you, sir," River said, then looked up at Jayne. "No longer a threat, Cobb."
He released her posthaste and followed her down the steps to the weapons locker.
She waited patiently as Jayne disarmed himself, a process that took him longer than the usual man due to the amount of munitions he liked to stockpile on his person.
He dropped Binky, Boo, Lisa, Gloria and Elena into the pocket. "Still think this is a firm nine on the scale of one bein' smart moves and ten bein' shit-witted idiotics."
She looked down at his crotch and began undoin' his belt.
"Not here!" Jayne exclaimed, grabbin' her wrists. "Ya crazy or somethin'?"
He realized how absurd the question was the moment she arched an eyebrow.
"Final weapon," she explained, pursing her lips with wry amusement.
"Oh…right!" he said, lettin' go o' her hands.
She undid the top button of his pants, unzipped him and retrieved Gladys, smiling a bit as she encountered a concealed weapon of a different sort.
"Hope springs eternal," she remarked, smirking at him. She shook her head as she deposited the gun in the pocket, removed the safeguard and descended into the establishment.
"Among other things," Jayne muttered with a grin, doin' his pants back up and followin' her down the steps.
He stopped at the cubby-bar to get a mug o' ale an' watch her as she wended her way through the crowd like a qing-blooded, qing-movie maiden, makin' him even harder just thinkin' 'bout what she could do with those legs, those hips, that mouth. She threw a glance back at him, allurin' as hell, simple wickedness curvin' her lips and tiltin' her eyes. She knows what I'm thinkin'.
Now that her mind-readin' was out in the open, Jayne liked to 'muse himself by throwin' her all sorts o' scenarios, but only when he knew she was havin' one o' her "good days". There were more "good" than "bad" days lately and Jayne was havin' a special helluva good time playin' with her. Their soup-in-hair gesture was not even needed due to his near-perpetual state o' readiness; all she had to do was to give him a yes/no signal with her eyes.
Like this afternoon, for instance.
They'd been docked in Beaumonde for a few hours, long enough for them to refuel and Mal and Zoe to arrange to meet their new clients. Kaylee was out with the Shepherd, lookin' for supplies for him to take with on the passage to the small border moon o' Haven; the man had finally gotten sick o' Mal's asininity and decked the Cap'n like he good an' deserved. Simon an' Wash were shoppin'. 'Nara was off companionin' somewhere.
They'd been sittin' at the table in the mess, Jayne with his knives at one end, her with her journal at the other, Mal an' Zoe in the middle, discussin' the latest job from their new clients, Fanty an' Mingo.
Fanty an' Mingo, Jayne snorted as he sharpened his blades. More like Panty-waist an' Dingo-berries. Matched set o' Dyton chippies who think they're all fancified now they got some ready money. Girl, ya better put a bullet to me if'n I ever start wearin' them swank togs. Bullet in the brainpain, squish! We got an understandin'?
River snickered and nodded, keeping her eyes down and her hand steady as she guided the pen over the pages of the journal.
"Somethin' we say amuse you, River?" Zoe asked as she and Mal looked up at her.
"Squish!" she said, her eyes dancing as she met Jayne's across the table.
Jayne growled as he looked up at her. Remember the rules, girl.
"Hey, don't tease the animals," Mal said, crooking his head towards Jayne. "That bull charges."
"Not bull," Jayne heard her say as she looked up at Mal. "Cobb."
"At least someone 'round here knows I gotta name," Jayne grunted. "Even if she happens to be nuttier than a jar o' pecans."
"Almonds," River replied, tapping the side of her head with her pen.
"Wasn't talkin' to ya," Jayne said, glarin' at her. Hello? Rule number one?
"I know," she said. "But I have superior ovaries."
"And I got balls o' solid rock," Jayne shot back before he gave Binky a long wet lick and ran her across the whetstone.
"Yeeaargh! I can't know that!" Mal said, putting his hands over his ears. "Zoe, make it stop!"
"River, perhaps you could adjourn to the common area? Jayne's not exactly on his best behavior today," Zoe cautioned, shooting Jayne a sharp look.
Jayne rolled his eyes as he continued honing Binky. My bunk, ten minutes?
River rose from her seat, gathering up her journal and tucking her pen behind her ear as she passed Mal and Zoe.
"Ain't my fault she's crazy," he grunted.
She gave him the hand without even looking at him as she passed.
Five it is.
"Superior," she called out as she entered the aft passage, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.
"Solid rocks," Jayne called back.
Mal put his fingers in his ears and started humming "The Ballad of Jayne" to himself.
Zoe watched the girl go, and then looked at Jayne, who continued to stroke Binky over the whetstone, an irritated expression firmly fixed on his face.
Five and a half minutes later he was in his bunk, where she was already waitin' for him wearin' nothin' but her skin an' a smile.
Six minutes later, they were up against the wall, her legs wrapped around his waist, his pants around his ankles.
In the intervenin' thirty seconds, they had the followin' conversation:
"You're late," she'd said, moving towards him and undoing his belt.
"Ain't gonna apologize," he'd replied, pullin' his t-shirt over his head.
"Wouldn't be a soldier of fortune if you did," she'd countered, sliding a hand into his pants.
"So what's yer pleasure, darlin'?" he'd asked, suckin' in a breath as she found what she was lookin' for.
"Mercenary's choice," she'd whispered, sinking to her knees.
And then there were no more words for a good, long while.
"Shhh, shhh," he cautioned a little bit later as a hot, hungry whimper escaped her throat.
"Can't…help it!" she purred, her breath hitching as she shivered. "Unhhh! Good…!"
Her lips looked downright luscious as she panted an' writhed 'gainst him, tryin' not to squeak. He had a brief moment o' madness as he considered silencin' her mouth with his own. He recovered in enough time to manage some fast an' sure maneuverin' that led to her gettin' on her hands an' knees on the bed.
"Bái dā!" she gasped, looking over her shoulder at him as he removed the rest of his clothes.
Jayne joined her on the bed, enjoyin' the frankly spectacular view o' her pretty little backside before he slid one arm 'round her to grip her by a hip, the other by the ribcage, his hand cuppin' her jaw so he could stare into her dark, spellbindin' eyes.
"Bù zuò shēng," he hissed, holdin' her still as their bodies came together again.
They gazed at each other as they grappled, the eye contact burnin', intimate, fierce. She obeyed his order to be silent, but he heard her loud an' clear as her eyes widened, her pupils dilated, her mouth dropped open, her cheeks hollowed, her breathin' sped up. He could smell her, sweet an' delicious as she gasped inaudibly, an' he started covetin' the damp heat o' her breath, the sleek slide o' her tongue, the sharp slickness o' her teeth.
What could it hurt? he thought as he grasped her, thrust into her, watched her cry out without makin' a gorram sound, What could one little savor hurt?
Her eyes slid to his mouth an' he found himself tusslin' lustily with the urge to bridge the distance between them as her little white teeth bit into her bottom lip.
Not…yet…not yet!
She may very well have saved his gorram sanity as she turned her head away from him an' arched her back, her knuckles glowin' snow white against her hands as she clenched two fistfuls o' his bedspread an' howled her pleasure into the fabric.
Jayne, ever mindful of the credits that lay on the table, took a deep, grateful breath as he shifted his hand to her hair an' got down the business o' drivin' them both stark ruttin' wild
As much as he knew how to please her physically, Jayne recognized that he'd known almost nothin' about River except what her brother had spouted off that first night.
The situation had changed somewhat in the two months since Jubal Early's little excursion onto Serenity.
He thought when she'd negotiated for twenty-four hours o' his body that she meant sexin', but no, she still continued to pay for that right regular. She desired his attention, an' that weirded him out to no finality.
As she sat across from him readin' the menu, he mentally reviewed the activities they'd engaged in.
He'd gone on a shoppin' expedition with her an' Kaylee an' showed the girl how to haggle for produce. They'd gone to his favorite river when they touched down on Salisbury an' he'd helped her learn how to fish. He'd grudgin'ly instructed her on how to strip, clean, rebuild an' load each o' his guns. In the privacy o' his bunk he'd taught her how to sew a seam so she could try to mend her clothin', which was always gettin' ripped.
They'd all been simple, easy activities that could be taught covertly an' with a minimum of talkin'. Jayne used the "I show, you try" method, which seemed to work pretty well – she didn't need no gorram hand-holdin', just a demonstration an' she would go for it.
What made him streaky was the ease of it all, the smoothness o' sharin' common legroom that he did not understand. That's not to say she didn't get that "I-want-you-right-ruttin'-now" look in her eyes durin' his time in the "penalty-space", but mostly they just worked side-by-side like a couple o' citizens who had good reason to stand together.
"Tell me exactly how I'm not gonna get hurt doin' this," Jayne said, pullin' down the top o' her menu.
"Third rule," she replied, cocking her head to the side as she tried to read the menu from this new position.
"Fine, be that way," he muttered, lettin' go and lookin' up in time to see a server glide towards them.
"What can I getcha, kewpie?" the server asked Jayne, displayin' generous cleavage and a smile.
Jayne looked at River. She nodded.
"Appetite taster, pitcher o' Sihnon ale," Jayne said, then glanced at the liquor list. "An' a snifter o' Hennessy, Triple X."
"How 'bout you, liàng mèi?" the server asked River.
"Tea, if you please," she replied.
The server nodded and left.
"Tea?" Jayne asked, leanin' forward an' lookin' side-to-side. "We're here for ya to learn how to drink. Tea's right 'gainst the gorram principle."
She considered his words for a moment. "You said I should have something in my stomach before we start imbibing, correct?"
Jayne nodded, makin' a face at the obviousness o' the question.
"Well," she continued, "I need liquid to wash down the solids. Tea is good for the heart, circulation, skin, mood. It is a logical choice."
"All right, then, fine," Jayne said, "But I still think it's the coward's way out."
She smiled to herself and looked down at her lap.
"What?" he demanded.
"Interesting choice of words," she said, smoothing the napkin onto her lap.
The server brought them their food and drinks and Jayne watched with horror as she daintily nibbled on a hotwing.
"That ain't the way ya wanna eat those," he said, reaching for a drumstick. "Ya gotta slurp on 'em."
"How?" she asked, peering at the small chicken leg covered in cheesy pepper sauce.
Jayne made a face. "Ya tellin' me y'ain't never slurped on nothin' before?"
"Besides the obvious?" she asked, looking up at him with a totally innocent expression.
He grinned, shook his head at her. "Ya got a dirty mind, Core girl. Gotta give ya the shiny points for that."
River blushed and cast her eyes to the fire for a moment.
"Watch," he instructed, putting the whole drumstick into his mouth an' sucking off everything but the bone and gristle. He tossed the bone into the bowl provided an' gestured to her to attempt it herself as he chewed and swallowed.
"Like this?" she asked, and imitated him.
Jayne's mouth dropped open as he watched her eyes drift shut, her rose-peach lips envelop the drumstick an' her cheeks hollow as she slurped like a champ.
"Mmmm…," she purred as she slowly pulled the bone out of her mouth and placed it in the bowl.
"Shèng mǔ Mǎ lì yà..." he said in a slurred, stunned tone as he gripped the table with both hands.
River opened her eyes and smiled at him while she chewed and swallowed.
"Where in the seven hells didya learn that?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"From you," she replied, sucking her fingers clean, one by one.
Jayne fidgeted in his seat. "Uh, I don't do it like that…do I?"
"No," she replied, reaching for her tea. "I admit to taking certain liberties with interpreting the motions."
"I've created a monster," Jayne muttered, hastily snatching the napkin off the table an' spreadin' it on his lap. God knows what she'd do with a dumplin'…
She ignored his discomfort as she went for a piece of Britchetta. "Oooh, yummy!"
Jayne reached for the ale an' took a deep swallow, comin' up from the foam to see a bit of tomato stuck to the corner o' her mouth. "Uh, ya got…"
He tried to signal, to point, but she had no idea what he what he was talking about until he reached over and used the tip of his finger to swab at the spot. She turned her head slightly and sucked the fragment of paste and his finger into her mouth.
"Please, girl, have a heart, willya?" Jayne begged with his eyes, his voice, his whole gorram bein'. "I'm about five seconds away from tossin' ya on the table and doin' ya right here, social niceties be rammed. Rule number one, 'member?"
She released him, blushing once more. "I apologize."
"No need to 'pologize, just keep on munchin', all right?"
They consumed energy units in silence for the next fifteen minutes, looking at each other every now and then and smiling like a pair of preteens at their first food court hook-up.
"Ya feel full to burstin' yet?" Jayne finally asked.
"Yes," she said, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin.
"Good," he replied, throwin' his down on the table.
He cleared the empty plates out of the way an' placed the snifter o' Hennessy between them.
"Download," he said.
"Cognac," she began, her voice gaining confidence as she continued. "Form of French distilled wine, also called a brandy. 40 alcohol, 80 proof. The Hennessy company was started by Richard Hennessy in 18th century France, Earth-That-Was."
"An' he was…?" Jayne prompted.
"An Irish mercenary," she finished, and they both smiled.
"Good job," he said. "Now one thing to keep in mind is that cognac is like a cake: ya gotta treat her like a lady. Gotta take it nice an' slow, 'cause that's how a lady likes bein' handled. No slurpin', no chuggin', no rushin' things."
River giggled and shot him a skeptical look.
"Unless she outright demands it o' ya! " Jayne amended, scowlin' at her. "Then it's a whole 'nother can o' glow-worms. Listen, are ya here for learnin' or eyesexin'?"
"Location, locality, locus," she replied as she composed her face. "Pray, continue."
"Now, I don't knock this potion back very often, but when I do, I take my time," Jayne finished, slidin' his hand gently under the snifter and liftin' it up. "Scooch yerself on over here, girl. Time to git yerself some practical application."
River picked up her seat and moved over until she was next to Jayne.
As she sat down, he slung an arm over the back o' her chair an' let his hand rest against her elbow.
"Ya got heat her up slowly with the palm o' yer hand," he continued, his voice deep and rumbling to her ears. "Let her swirl a bit, always gentle-like. Never warm her o'er an open flame – she'll throw a shroud o'er her flavor, shoot her stinger right up yer nose an' then yer abso-ruttin'-lutely humped."
"Legs?" she asked.
"Good question, darlin'," he observed, tiltin' the balloon glass carefully until it sat on its side on the table, his hand hoverin' over it as he rolled it in a languid motion with just his middle finger. "Longer it takes for 'em to form, older her spirit is. Treat her like a lady and she'll dance for ya."
Together they watched the fluid slip-slide inside the glass, the luminosity of the hearth turning the liquid into glittering amber sunshine.
"Beautiful," she breathed, reaching out a hand to take over the motion.
Jayne sat back, breathin' her in as she made the cognac sway. Havin' her this close made the sour stench o' the bar fade away as her smells took over: the clean apple scent of her hair, the soft vanilla scent of her skin, the spiced savory of her breath, all blended in with the rich, lush fragrance of the liquor. He reckoned he knew almost all there was to know about her scents, all 'cept one – what she would smell like while bein' kissed.
God only knew when or if he'd ever be ready to experience that.
"She's ready," River said, turning her head to look at him and getting caught in his gaze. "She's read to be swirled."
Once again, he found himself with his lips inches apart from hers. Such a simple act. Most people did it with the same caution they exercised when shakin' hands.
Jayne took a beat, glanced at her mouth. Tempted? Hell, yeah. Ready? Hell, no. Not yet, anyhow.
He uprighted the glass, then slid his hand underneath, lodgin' the stem between his middle and ring fingers. He brought the snifter in close so they could smell the cognac's aroma.
River made a humming sound as she inhaled the scent. "She smells of mystery…magic…midnight."
"Lil' bit o' madness, too," Jayne commented, smilin' to himself.
"Did you bring the chocolate?" she asked eagerly.
"Left pocket, darlin'," he replied, chucklin' at her avarice.
She slipped a hand into it and discovered a shard of dark chocolate wrapped in wax paper.
"May not be enough for both," she commented, looking at the piece doubtfully.
"Naw," Jayne answered, shakin' his head. "That's just for ya; I'm gonna have a cigar."
River looked down at the snifter, at the delicately seething cognac. "Am I ready?"
"Yeah," he said, and held the snifter out to her. She took it from him an' he swore there was an instant when he felt sparks cross the distance from her fingertips to his an' his ticker executed a full-on barrel-roll in his chest.
This is gorram ridiculous, he told himself as he removed his arm from around her and went through the calmin' ritual of clippin' an' lightin' his cigar. I've had my ruttin' hands all over her, on her, inside her – among other things, I might add – and I'm shakin' like a boy with his first schoolyard crush? What in the sphincter o' hell is goin' on here?
Jayne watched her as she swirled the liquid like he taught her, graceful an' economical in her motions. He observed her poise with pride as she brought the glass up to her lips, tilted it carefully, sipped cautiously, her long, pretty neck all elegant an' gilded in the firelight as she swallowed. He knew the moment it hit her tastebuds because her face turned all blissful-like, same as when he was makin' her feel all kinds o' simple wicked. Then she made that gorram purrin' sound, the one that reverberated in the back of his mouth when they were sexin'.
He wanted nothin' more in the world at that very moment than to toss away the gorram snifter, the ruttin' cigar, his stupid-ass inhibitions, an' kiss the everlovin' starlight outta her.
Instead, he took a deep breath…an' promptly started coughin'.
"Not supposed to take a full drag off cigars," she said, placing the cigar band on her right ring finger and slipping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Supposed to puff."
"I know that," Jayne spat between hackin' fits. "Been smokin' 'em for the past twenty years, gorramit!"
She rolled her eyes and snickered into her fist.
Yeah, smooth, Cobb. Real smooth.
"So tell me somethin'," he said, tryin' to pick up his shine while puffin' on the cigar. "How come ya sound so commonsensical right now?"
It was her turn to start choking as she handed over the snifter.
He took it, set it down on the table an' gave her a swift whack between the kidneys. She made a petite burpin' sound an' gave him a watery smile.
"Thanks," she said, and coughed a little more as she fully caught her breath.
"Welcome," he grunted, swirlin' the cognac before takin' a sip. "So ya gonna answer my question or not?"
"Not," she replied, feeling a warmth curling in her stomach that was separate and distinct from other warmings happening in her body. "My dime, my time."
Jayne stole a look at his timepiece. "Ya know what I think?"
"Of course I do," she retorted, throwing her head back and tapping her forehead. "Reader – remember?"
Jayne ignored her comeback as he leaned over her. "I think mebbe y'ain't as crazy as ya seem, darlin'."
"And I think you're definitely not as stupid as you'd like others to think you are," she shot back, popping another sliver of chocolate into her mouth and giving him a heaping helping of attitude.
"Am I right?" he pressed, unwillin' to give up the trail he was trackin' as he sipped the cognac. "Come on, ya can tell me."
River bit her lip, looked at him sideways and shook her head. "You wouldn't believe me if I did."
He snorted, holdin' out the snifter to her. "Try me."
She took it, swirled the glass, inhaled swiftly three times.
He thought he heard her say somethin' like "oh what the rut" an' then she turned to him an' said, "Have you ever heard of oxytocin?"
Jayne shook his head.
"Prolactin? Dopamine?" she asked, before taking another sip and handing the glass back to him.
"Can't say that I have," he replied. "They some special new chemicals doc's been tryin' out on ya?"
She looked down into the fire for a moment, smiled a bit to herself. "Yes…and no."
"Whaddya mean, yes and no?" he demanded, handin' the snifter to her. "What's he doin', tryin' 'em in combination, tryin' to get the right mix?"
"No, I am working with all of those chemicals, but my brother is not supplying them," she replied. She looked down into the snifter. "There's enough for one more sip. Would you like it?"
"Naw," Jayne said. "Yers if'n ya want it."
"Share?" she offered.
He shrugged. "Sure."
River took a tiny sip an' Jayne almost choked on his cigar as he watched the muscles in her throat work. She handed the glass to him an' he drained the last of it. He placed it on the table an', cool as you please, she reached over an' took the cigar from him.
"Hey!" he said, scowlin' at her as she smirked at him.
"Rule number two," she reprimanded softly before she gave the cigar a tiny little puff and handed it back.
Jayne looked over her, impressed by her moxie, an' nearly choked on the cigar again.
Bless her sweet lil' mind-readin' soul.
River sat there, a sizeable sliver of chocolate sittin' between her perfect little white teeth an' The Look in her eyes.
Jayne inclined his head towards her, opened his mouth over hers, tryin' to gauge where to bite so that it wasn't really a kiss, but as close as it could possibly get. He dipped his head, smiled widely as he carefully bit down on the chocolate an' took it from her.
He may have even fallen a little bit in love with her as she held perfectly still, makin' sure he kept his word an' still got a taste of what he wanted.
Oh, yeah, he thought, John Thomas is gonna make someone a happy little space traveler tonight.
She just smiled at him and cocked her head to the side as she licked chocolate from her lips.
Mayhap if she were the one to kiss him instead o' the other way 'round, it wouldn't count…?
She leaned in an' it was his turn to hold completely still as her hair slipped free o' her shoulders to brush 'gainst his arm an' her cheek brushed 'gainst his.
Jayne closed his eyes and steeled himself for the inevitable brush of her lips.
It didn't come.
Instead, she leaned in and whispered, "Time to fly away."
"What?" he asked, his hand comin' up to wrap 'round her neck, stroke her jaw with his thumb.
"You have paid your debt," she clarified, gently removing his hand from her and placing the safeguard chit in it. "And now we must return."
She rose from her chair, graceful and stately as she smoothed her clothes and placed a wad of credits on the table.
"Wait! Where ya goin'?" Jayne squawked.
She threw him one cool, come-hither glance over her shoulder as she walked up the stairs and into the night.
Jayne sighed and scowled.
Girl won't last one minute on those mean streets. Barely a hundred weight soakin' wet and no way to defend herself.
He really had no choice but to follow her and make sure she got back to the ship in one piece.
Especially since he really, really wanted to sex her tonight.
"Where have you been?" Doc Tam demanded of his sister as she and Jayne walked up the airlock ramp. "And why are you with him, of all people?"
"Convergence on a similar point in space at a similar time is not necessarily an indicator of planned action," she objected, her posture painfully correct as she drew herself up and folded her arms.
Simon folded his arms as well. "Yes, I know I'm not your father, but I am your brother and I'm responsible for you and spending time with this…this wú lài is not something he or I would ever approve of."
"Good thing papa is not here," River replied haughtily. "Else I would have to tell him that Jayne and I are having crack-addictive, scorching-hot space-monkey sex – the really, really filthy kind that demands extreme elasticity – and he has just asked me to wed him and be the mother of our gun-toting genius offspring."
"What?!"
Jayne had no idea a person's eyes could bug out so far an' not pop out of their skull. Damn this is fun! He sauntered up to the girl, slung an arm around her an' pulled in her close.
"Oh yeah," Jayne added. "Gave her a right proper cigar-band ring an' everythin'. That's how we roll here out on the Outer Rim, ain't it, darlin'?"
River grinned as she displayed her right hand, pointing to the ring with her left.
Simon's mouth dropped open for a moment as he looked from River to Jayne. Then he rolled his eyes. "Droll, mei mei, very droll. As if you'd ever consider having anything to do with this overgrown gorilla! I'll ask you again, where were you?"
Jayne suppressed the urge to beat on the man. The more time spent yakkin' was more time between him gettin' to his bunk an' gettin' inside her.
"Self-time," River said coolly as she extricated herself from Jayne and sailed past her brother in the direction of the passenger quarters.
"River, self-time is for private places – your bedroom, specifically!" Simon said as he tried to maintain control of the situation.
"Which is where I'm going," she replied as she drifted away and executed a perfect double pirouette and ending in fourth position. "Do not follow or I will pay Cobb a copper to beat you senseless."
Jayne gave him a lazy grin an' folded his arms. "Seems like a fair deal to my thinkin'."
"Have you been drinking?" Simon demanded.
"Catch!" the girl called out, tossing a coin at Jayne.
Simon stopped dead in his tracks, following the trajectory of the coin from his sister's hand to Jayne's.
Jayne reached up, plucked the copper outta the air an' pocketed it.
"Cash in advance," she called out before she passed through the portal to the common area.
"Payment received," he called back, then looked at Simon.
"No, I believe this is what it feels like to go crazy," Simon said, shaking his head. "My sister putting Jayne Cobb on retainer…how the seven hells did this come to pass?"
"Comical ya should ask that, Doc," Jayne began. "Ya see, a funny thing happened on the – "
"I don't want to hear about it!" Simon cried, putting a hand up to cut him off.
"Hear about what?"
Jayne and Simon turned to find Shepherd Book walking up the ramp.
"Why, my undyin' hard-on for the nutcase officially known as River Tam," Jayne said, placin' a hand over his heart and adoptin' a posture of swaggerin' bravado.
"I return to the ship to gather my things and find that it has already become a den of iniquity? Short work, Jayne," Book said wryly.
"Many thanks, preacher," Jayne said, "I consider that a compliment, comin' from a man such as yerself."
"It was not meant to be taken so," Book cautioned. "River Tam is not the girl for you, Jayne."
"Why not?" Jayne said, foldin' his arms an' towerin' over the both o' them. "Ya don't think a Core girl like that an' a man like me – "
"No, we don't," Simon replied. "It's disgusting."
"So not funny, Jayne," Book cautioned.
"Sure it is," Jayne said, grinnin' an' punchin' the preacher lightly in the arm. "Hell, anythin' that makes Doc here get twitchy is ruttin' high-larious!"
They looked at him, both wearing identical stony expressions.
"What?" Jayne demanded, checkin' his timepiece. Sexin' in T-minus two minutes, whoop!
Book eyed him warily. "Don't go getting any ideas, Jayne. She's just a child."
"Hardly," Jayne snorted. "She may look like she's twelve in certain get-ups, but that body's all woman – "
"She's seventeen, you pervert!" Simon shouted.
"Say what?" Jayne was not sure he'd heard the man correctly.
"Seventeen," Book repeated. "She'll turn eighteen next month. Kaylee's out shopping for birthingday presents for her as we speak."
"So? Seventeen's legal in most o' the worlds we trade in," Jayne said, tryin' to brazen it out as he felt somethin' icy an' foul start to grip his innards. "Hell, I've sexed whores who were sixteen when them's all that was 'vailable."
"You truly are the crudest, most foul pervert I have ever come across," Simon said, stalking away.
Book laid a hand on Jayne's shoulder. "As I suspect you know very well, maturity is determined by birth-world and culture, Jayne. River is from Osiris, and their age of consent is eighteen."
"I know that, but, hell, preacher, Kaylee started sparkin' the boys when she was just fourteen and she don't seem no worse for wear," Jayne said, collapsin' onto a crate. "Don't see why it's such a crime to think the girl's got nice contours on her."
Book sat down opposite him. "As far as I know, and believe me I wish I didn't, Kaylee's partners were at most three to four years older than her. You're almost forty, aren't you?"
"Yeah, three years' time. So?"
"That's quite an age gap," Book pointed out. "And even though River Tam would not be considered 'of age' until she was eighteen, even then…that is a difficult call. The Academy started experimenting on her when she was fourteen and even though she has the physical form of a woman, her spirit may not have progressed beyond that point."
Jayne felt the cold, dirty feelin' spread from his gut upwards. "So yer sayin' she may be one o' those ever-children?"
"It is possible," Book said. "Her psychic abilities may make it possible for her to manifest the personality of a woman, but she could just be picking up on cues from others."
Jayne hung his head, suddenly pale, sick to his stomach, wishin' desperately to be on any other boat in the 'verse except the one he was on right now.
Book placed his hand on Jayne's shoulder. "Don't worry, son. You won't be punished for thinking on her like that – God will understand that you sinned in innocence."
"That's somewhat comfortin'," Jayne grunted, rubbin' his hand over his face.
"It is," Book said, his tone lightening. "Look on the bright side – there's nothing to atone for except impure thoughts because you didn't act on your impulses."
"An' if'n I had?" Jayne asked, still starin' at the cargo bay floor.
"Well, that would be a completely different situation," Book replied, oblivious to the other man's turmoil. "Captain Reynolds may not have told you this, but there's a Special Hell reserved for child molesters and people who talk at the theater."
"Guess ol' Mal's already got a one-way ticket – he never shuts up, especially durin' the romantic comedies," Jayne quipped.
Book chuckled as he stood up. "I'm going to miss your refreshing sense of humor, young man."
Jayne stood, too an' offered the man his hand. "An' I'm gonna miss yer tolerance, sir. Lotta people in this 'verse look down on a man like me, given who I am, what I do."
"You're not a bad man, Jayne," Book said, taking his hand and clasping him in an embrace with the other arm. "Perhaps a little misguided, but not inherently bad."
Jayne grinned wanly as he hugged him back. "What say we save our goodbyes for Haven, sir? I ain't in no mood to mourn the loss o' ya until the day finally gets here."
"Agreed," Book said, and left Jayne in the cargo bay.
Jayne sat back down an' scrubbed his face with the heels of his hands.
Shoulda heeded that filthy-guilty feelin' first time it welled up…
Coulda found a way to get that feng le female in line an' far, far away from him…
Woulda been able to stay outta Special Hell an' be able to look a decent, honest man in the eye…
How had life gotten so ruttin' bleak in the blink of an eye…?
It was late at night an' Jayne was at the weight bench, doin' his biceps curls.
She came to him, wearing a white nightgown that covered everything but her feet, her hands and her neck and face. She looked like some sort of ghost as she cautiously crossed the space between them, her journal clasped in her hands. She crossed her ankles and dropped into a lotus position facing him, placed the journal in her lap.
Jayne replaced the barbell on the rack an' rubbed his face with the towel he'd slung 'round his neck.
They sat there for the better part of ten minutes, looking at each other.
He didn't say a word. Didn't hafta. Girl could read his mind plenty well.
A lot went through Jayne's mind during those ten minutes, most o' it centered 'round anger an' despair.
"You will not let me come to you anymore, will you?" she said.
Not for all the ruttin' flush in the Blue Sun Bank.
She nodded, her eyes directed down at the floor.
Why'd you do it, girl? Why'd you lie to me?
"Didn't lie," she replied. "Ident card says eighteen."
Ident card is a fake. I should know, I made it.
"Years are a vestigial mode of time measurement. Based on solar cycles. Not applicable."
Niou se.
"You must trust me," she said, running a hand over the cover of her journal.
Trusted ya once an' now I got me a first-class passage to Special Hell. Thanks, by the way.
"I will fix this," she said.
Can't fix this, girl. This is somethin' I gotta live with...for the rest o' my life.
"I know."
"Do ya? Do ya even know what it is yer sayin'?" he said, speaking aloud an' tryin' to keep his voice low.
"Yes, I do," she replied. She rose to her feet, clutching the journal to her chest.
Jayne looked at her, hatin' himself for still wantin' her, even though he knew it was wrong in every way that mattered. "Well I know what I'm sayin', too. I'm sayin' I'm through with you."
"Your colors are changing," she said softly, gazing at him.
"Go to bed," he said, risin' from the bench. "Go anywhere ya want, just leave me be."
"I will make amends, Cobb," she promised as she turned to go back to her room.
"Can ya stop me from cravin' ya?" he asked roughly. "'Cause getting' over this sickness is 'bout the only thing that's gonna help."
"No...that hunger is forever," she replied, a steely note in her voice as she looked back at him. "But I can stop the sinning."
"qing" – "nature's color"
"bái dā" – "no use / no good"
"bù zuò shēng" – "don't say a word"
"liàng mèi" – "pretty girl"
"Shèng mǔ Mǎ lì yà" – "Holy Mary, Mother of God"
"wú lài" – "scoundrel"
"feng le" – "crazy"
"niou se" – "bullshit"