Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.
A/N: No one dies, no one is born and no one realizes they love each other… And that's alright by me. Post-BDM, Jayne PoV, Rayne Friendship. Read, enjoy, let me know.
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When they're alone, she's quiet.
None of that eerie quiet that used to make him twitchy, eyes always on the look out for a flash of silver least she gut him like a fish—no this quiet was quieter, like a sigh or a blink, this quiet is the sort of quiet that made people think the worst was over (because how, after losing the Shepard and Wash and Haven and all them people, could it ever get worse?).
He never thought much of words, and perhaps she always thought too much of them because she never did shut up. Didn't make a difference though, since there was nothing to say between them, nothing to be said at all in the 'verse that made no never-mind.
But none of that mattered though, 'cause silence sometimes said more than words, least that's what she said once, at the dinner table when all of them were paying far more attention to their food stuff then was needed. He'd sneered then, thinking the worst, thinking she was digging around inside their heads, because of course the gorram girl didn't need words when she could just as easily take a peek inside their brain pans.
"Don't dig." She told him, when he passed her, legs swinging back and forth over the edge of the catwalk as Serenity glided aimlessly through the black, "She has no taste for it. Wishes to keep her hands clean."
And her voice was so normal, none of that drifty-ness it sometimes took on, and her eyes were fixed on her feet, which were bare yet again, and though he just kept on walkin', it was a sound that stayed with him for days.
And though he don't tell her— no way in blue hell him and the crazy were gonna start being buddies, not when there were still nights when even whiskey couldn't deal away with the guilt and it wasn't no small part of him that was still worried she'd kill him in his sleep one day—he believed her.
But that don't change things any, and when they share the cargo bay (or any other room for that matter), her stretching or dancing or twirling away, him doing sets or cleaning the girls, they're both still silent.
And it's alright by them.
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End
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