Title: Going Crazy
Disclaimer: Joss is boss (x2)!
A/N: Another one-shot I had rattling around in the brainpan. It was inspired by another amazing Joss creation, the wonderfulness that is Spuffy. I'll mention the episode that I'm referring to at the end to prevent any obvious spoilers. A little steamy for me, you've been warned! :)
Jayne wasn't sure what finally set him off. One minute he'd been keeping himself in check by the skin of his teeth and the next he just couldn't take one more second. One more second of that damn girl looking down her nose at him, putting on those Corified airs, acting so superior. Probably was reading his mind this instant, loving how he squirmed.
River had been a pain in his pigu before Miranda, but afterwards had been even worse. If it weren't Mal exalting her for her fancy flying it was Simon coddling her for a paper cut. The captain's porcelain princess, perfect and flawless. And she was everywhere now, not just hiding in her bunk. She was in the bay dancing while he tried to workout, laughing at him at the dinner table. Hell, Mal even made Jayne take crazy along on jobs now, sending the two of them together when in the past Jayne would have gone alone. Said it was to keep everyone safe, give him a "backup." He wasn't stupid; she wasn't backup, she was a gorram replacement.
One day they'd set down on some rock and instead of being handed his orders it'd be his walking papers. Merc of his experience, his skills, passed over for some psychic, one hundred pound, slip of a girl. She hadn't earned her stripes like he had, hadn't done the time. Just had some Feds screwing around in her brain, then all of a sudden she's a killing machine. Sure that stay at the Academy couldn't have been fun, but Jayne had been getting shot at and hit for longer than she'd been alive. Where was the fairness in that?
Whatever it was, he'd reached his breaking point. He stalked across the cargo bay to where she was standing, relishing the moment that tiny smirk on her face slid off and she started to look a little nervous. Good, about damn time.
He got real up in her face; he wanted to see the look on her face when she knew he was going to end her. He was going to get spaced for this or worse, no question. Right now he didn't care, he knew even as the air was ripped from his lungs and his gorram eyeballs exploded it would be worth it.
"I've had it with you, girlie," he gritted through his teeth. Didn't seem like there was anything left to say.
Understanding lit up behind her eyes. She nodded curtly. "It was only a matter of time."
He reached for his gun, drawing it from the holster and aiming it at her in one fluid motion. But she was one step ahead of him, ruttin' mind reader. Shifting her weight back to her right foot, she swung her left leg up to shoulder height easy as fishing, sending the weapon flying across the bay.
She darted across the hold for the gun and he knew he'd never beat her sprint, she was just too fast. As she ran past him he dove for her, barely catching her round the ankle as she sped by. They both crashed to the unyielding metal floor, ignoring the pain that ran through their bodies at the impact.
Tucking her arms by her head she tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he kept a fierce grip around her leg and yanked backwards as he lifted himself off the ground with his other arm. She slid underneath him a little and she flipped herself over onto her back to try to break his hold, so slippery that he couldn't lift his hands from her for a second. Grabbing her thighs, her hips, her waist, he pulled her beneath him so he could keep those lethal legs of hers trapped by his weight.
Her elbow swung for his nose, her other hand reaching for his eyes and he barely managed to grab her forearms before she made contact. Leveraging himself forward, he let his chest collapse on top of hers to keep her in place. All the strength in his muscular upper arms was concentrated on pinning her wrists on either side of her head and she writhed underneath him futilely in an attempt to free herself.
Unable to move, she glared up at him with pure hatred and malice. He returned the look with equal ferocity and his eyes bored into hers. They were at a standstill; his entire body was fully engaged in keeping hers at bay. To reach a hand to her throat would mean freeing one of hers and open him up to a world of hurt.
She held herself still and the only movement was their chests expanding in and out as they both fought to regain their breath. He stared down at her face with loathing, hating those expressive brown eyes dark as sin, her delicate features that made her look so haughty and regal, her pouty pink lips.
Her pouty pink lips.
Her lips.
Before he even knew what he was doing suddenly his face was bowing down, his mouth settling over hers completely. It was probably the most chaste kiss in the history of the 'verse; once he came to a second later he reared his head back in shock.
She was still gazing up into his eyes, but the animosity had faded and she looked dazed instead. Her eyes were glazed over, breath coming faster like she'd run a mile. Looked like she'd just gotten sexed within an inch of her life, not been given a practically innocent kiss.
She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
In an instant he realized every inch of his body was pressed against hers. Before he could decide whether to try to finish what he'd started or turn tail and run her neck was arching up, her mouth searching for his.
He met her fiercely, pushing her back down as his lips explored her. His tongue slipped into her mouth to memorize everything that it could find: her teeth, her breath, her feminine little moans. He groaned into her mouth when her tongue met his, kissing him with an intensity he would have never imagined that she had in her.
Hands slipping away from her wrists one braced himself far enough off the floor so he could slip the other between them, sliding down her torso and discovering delightful new territory. Her freed arms reached to wrap around his broad back, fingertips scraping his skin through his shirt.
Her mouth slipped away from his to kiss his jaw, his neck, and she murmured into his skin, "Jayne, I want you."
Bending down to catch her lips again he muttered against them, "River, I love you."
At those three little words Jayne was thrown into consciousness, waking up in his bunk and starting so forcefully that he rolled right off of it and fell to the ground. It was the middle of the night and he could barely see his hands as they rose to tangle in his short hair.
It was a dream. It was all just a dream.
It was just a dream.
"Ta ma de!" he swore violently to the silent room, his breath coming in powerful gulps that hurt his lungs.
Just a dream.
Damn it. He was going crazy.
pigu: ass
ta ma de: motherfucker
You guessed it! The episode is Out of My Mind from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Thanks for reading!