Chapter Two - Indisputable Evidence

Nearly a week. Five long, miserable days Jayne waited for her to give him some kind of sign. He figured he could give her that much, until he couldn't wait no more, and he began to seek her out. But River'd gotten expert at avoiding him. She'd appear for meals, or to perform minute course corrections and check the instruments, but there wasn't too much actual flying to be done this deep in the black. River spent time locked in her bunk, or with Kaylee, Zoë and Inara in the shuttle, or the lord knew where. Now that Inara had finally gotten back from the Mother House on Sihnon, having put in her request for removal from the Companion's Guild, they were headed for Pacquin so that Kaylee and Simon could get married in relative style, with Kaylee's folks and family flying in from her home planet. The women spent a lot of time in there, talkin' and plannin'. Mal had pretty much moved in up there, too. Quite a party, Jayne would think resentfully, when he could hear their laughter floating down the catwalk and into his workout area.

He had no idea what he'd done. No idea why River had turned from him like this. The pain made him mad, and it made him stupid. He reverted back to the old Jayne, jumpin' on every strange thing she said, calling her feng le and moonbrain and loonytunes and nutcase and other hi-larious terms. He never missed an opportunity to insult her, or disgust her, or jostle her chair as he passed, or snatch something just as she reached for it. And River accepted it all without retaliation, silent and passive, closed off from him. At night he would lay on his bunk and whisper apologies into the darkness, begging her forgiveness for every crass word and action. He wondered why she wasn't readin' him, why she didn't know how much he missed her. Maybe she did, and just didn't care, and that hurt worst of all. So it went on.

Zoë asked him if he'd been taking asshole pills.

Kaylee looked hurt all the time on behalf of her soon-to-be sister-in-law, imploring him repeatedly not to be so mean.

Mal warned him to lay off, tellin' him point blank that his patience with his hired gun was thin and gettin' thinner. He even suggested that it might be best if Jayne considered a change of venue when they went dirtside. Jayne could tell that it wasn't one of Mal's usual empty threats, either.

The sense of grudging respect 'tween him and the doc was at an end. Simon just smiled his contemptuous smile, and assured his worried betrothed that River could take of herself. Which they all knew she could, and wondered why she didn't. A good roundhouse kick to the choppers would be the best thing in the world for Jayne, it was generally agreed. Even Jayne thought so – a little physical pain might dull the other kind.

It was Inara who finally came to talk it out with him, surprisingly.

He was startled to see her approaching him at his makeshift work station in the cargo bay. Her hair was loose and straight around her shoulders, and she was wearing only the minimum of face paint. She looked pretty, but not Companiony-glamorous. She was trying to dress as much as she could like a member of the crew of Serenity, he realized. She was wearing a pair of green harem pants and a plain white blouse with tiny brass buttons down the front. Her little slippers were flat and had satin ribbons that tied around each ankle. River had once told him about those shoes. She had admired them, and Jayne had vowed to buy her a pair when they got to Pacquin, maybe in time to wear to the wedding. The memory revved up his anger and he looked at Inara with a distinctly unwelcoming expression.

"Yeah?" he asked brusquely.

"Hello, Jayne. And how are you?" Inara replied in her musical voice, smiling a little. She was always skilled at makin' him feel like an ignorant pi gu.

"What?" He didn't bother to hide his annoyance. He was making some modifications to an engine part with Kaylee's specifications and he had work to do. He adjusted the soldering tool in his hand restlessly.

"It's about River," she began, watching him carefully. "We've all noticed your increased antagonism toward her. Was there an incident?"

"An incident?" he echoed, unsure what she was getting at.

"Of the, er, butcher knife, or peach can variety?" Inara continued.

Oh.

"No." Jayne turned back to his work.

"It is easy for me to see that you are very angry, and that River is the focus of that anger. Won't you tell me why?" Inara asked, almost gently.

"I ain't angry," he denied, shrugging.

"Kaylee told me that while I was gone River took some fruit of yours without permission, and then attempted to make a pie with it. Are you still annoyed with her for that?" Inara probed, still studying him.

The mention of the cherry pie made a lump form in Jayne's throat, and he couldn't have replied if he wanted to. He'd eaten every bite. The pie had been terrible, but the thank-you kisses afterward had been delicious.

"Although River's mental state has improved greatly, she still struggles with social boundaries that you –" Inara paused, "most of us learn from modeling others. She may not have realized that her actions were a breach of social etiquette. If the pie was the genesis of this problem, I hope you can rise above such a small thing and at least attempt to be civil towards her."

Jayne shrugged again, not trusting himself to speak.

Inara sighed a little. "Well, I told Mal I would try." She started to walk away.

"Jayne?" she paused. "Have you tried to talking to River? Respectfully? She's really a very sweet girl. If you tell her what's bothering you, maybe the two of you can work this out on your own."

Duh, thought Jayne, hunching his shoulders. Hold her down for me, and you bet your ass she'll get an earful.

That night at dinner, a shitty dinner, too, concocted by Zoë, who really shoulda stuck to opening cans and sticking fire underneath 'em, Jayne watched River sitting almost directly across the table from him. Simon was closeted in the infirmary, researching something on the cortex, and had told them to go ahead and eat without him. River had taken her brother's place next to Kaylee, instead of her accustomed one next to Jayne. It looked like she was trying to put as much distance as she could between them, and the thought set Jayne's teeth on edge.

River was wan and listless, and her hair, which had been so beautiful when she'd been taking care of it, had returned to the tangled mop of the pre-Miranda days. She picked at her food with her chopsticks and kept her eyes on her plate.

She don't seem happy, he thought to himself. And I ain't happy, neither. Why are we like this? What happened? 'Maybe they're blind because there ain't nothing to see.' What the fuck did that mean? And then all that fei wu about spirits in the waste and shame and lust that he didn't understand. 'Talk to her,' he repeated Inara's suggestion to himself with an inward sneer. Yeah, right. Practically the only time he saw her was at mealtimes. Exactly what was he s'posed to say to her in front of the whole damn crew?

The intensity of his gaze must have burned like a laser into the top of her head, because quite abruptly River looked up and straight at him. Her eyes were shimmering with suppressed tears, wide and miserable. Oh, hell. Oh, babe. Something roared to life inside of Jayne, something new and huge and incredibly powerful and tender at the same time. And just as suddenly, he understood.

Feeling like his blood was singing in his veins, Jayne shoved himself to his feet. One huge arm swung out and swept the plates and cups and crappy food to the floor. He ignored the startled screams and shouts and leaned over and hauled River out of her chair. He dragged her across the worn boards of the table on her knees, and then settled her in front of him, hands clamped around her upper arms.

"I get it, now. I get it! Lust in the dust, or whatever. You thought it was all about me sexin' you up on the sly. You know I'm a horse's ass, honey! Why didn't ya just say? Why'd ya put me through this? Both of us?" He yelled into her face, giving her a shake. She was staring at him, dumbfounded. He took a deep breath. "I want you, River. I love ya and I wanna be with ya, and I don't care what the hell any of them think." He bent his head and his lips claimed hers, almost sagging with relief as he felt her immediate and unconditional response. He couldn't hold her close enough, couldn't kiss her deeply enough. His heart pounded with almost painful joy. He let his hands wander wherever they wanted. If she needed him to put on a show, he was perfectly willin' to do that. River gave a trembling moan.

"Holy shit." He heard Mal's shocked voice. "What the hell did you say to him, 'Nara?"

"I didn't advise him to ravish River on the kitchen table, if that's what you're implying, Mal." Inara's cultured voice was amused.

"Gosh! I dreamed a it few times, but never thought it'd actually ever happen!" Kaylee was giggling and squealing. A thought came to her: "He's kissin' her on the mouth!"

"Don't they need to breathe?" Zoë asked curiously.

"Jayne! Take your tongue outta my pilot's mouth this instant!" Mal ordered. After a minute: "Gave it a shot."

"Good try, though, sir." Zoë applauded him.

"I think it would be a real smart idea for him to take his hand offa her ass, though. I don't wanna see that." Mal said in a slightly louder voice.

Jayne finally disengaged from River's lips, and tucked her head tenderly against his shoulder. "You still taste like cherries," he murmured for her ears alone. He raised his head and stared arrogantly at the assembled company. "You all see that?"