A/N: OK, as promised… and 'cause this is how the story goes, more Rayne. Since the rating has now officially gone up, I thought you wouldn't mind a few more definite signs of Jayne's predicament.

Anyways, thank you so much for the reviews for the last chapter; I'm glad I didn't scare everyone off.

Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly, Serenity, or any of the characters of either/both.

Inara's man-whore left them on Persephone, and try as he might, Jayne couldn't shake a certain sense of relief. There had just been something odd about the fellow, and it wasn't just the girly crap; something just hadn't smelt right, and it had nothing to do with the fact that pretty boy had been sexing River,… nothing at all to do with that.

Moonbrain herself had been acting all weird, too; not how Jayne had expected her to act. She didn't seem particularly upset when Adain left; but then, of course, she had told him:

"He's leaving more behind than he knows, so he must return."

Pretty boy had looked all serious and a tad confused, and then had nodded at her, as if he sort of knew what she was jabbering on about, but not quite.

That was another thing that never seemed quite right about Inara's man-whore: all that weird and secretive mumbo jumbo that went on between River and him, like he somehow understood most of the stuff she was saying. That really didn't sit too well with Jayne; he wasn't entirely sure why that should bother him… well, he had a notion,… but he wasn't too comfortable thinking about that,… and…

Ah, heck,… girl's trying to kill me.

And that was the other thing: He was sitting at the kitchen table, sharpening Boo, mulling all this go se over, and in waltzes Crazy, giving him the biggest rutten smile ever, leans over him and kisses him on the head, like he's some damn teddy or something.

He growled at her then, trying to land at least a small slap on her arm, but she'd already danced out of his reach, still smiling.

She'd been like that, ever since she came out of Inara's shuttle that first time she'd had a… session with that pretty boy: all touchy feely, and all smiley, and all…

Jayne grunted to himself in exasperation, taking his frustration out on Boo and the whetstone, and the next thing he knew, Crazy had plonked herself down in the chair next to him… her chair, where she always sat… was leaning her chin on one hand, elbow on the table, and was smiling up at him… apparently just for the hell of it.

"What?" It didn't come out quite as gruff as he'd wanted it to.

"He likes Boo, why is he killing her?"

He paused, stared down at the knife, sharp edge at least a few millimetres closer to the back of her than 10 minutes ago, and cursed under his breath.

"What is it, Crazy? What'd ya want?" He managed to put a little more menace into his tone this time, but still not quite enough for his liking.

"That is a complex and multi-dimensional question… she wants a variety of things, but I doubt he concerns himself with all of them. Is he asking about the current situation?"

"Aw, heck, Crazy! What'd ya want from me?" He was a little mad now. She'd leaned into him while she was speaking, and her hair was brushing his arm, and the smell of her shampoo was in his nose, and he wasn't comfortable at all with that look she was giving him.

"That's also a rather complex and multi-dimensional question." She told him, her smile becoming less pronounced, but somehow much more unnerving.

"Crazy, if'n you don't start talkin' sense, I…"

That's as far as he got, because Crazy was leaning into him, pressing her lips to his, and making a little purring noise in the back of her throat. His mind went completely foggy, and the next thing he knew, she was in his lap… again.

He gave a start when he realised what was happening, grabbed her around the waste, and deposited her on the table, took a step back, his chair clattering behind him and nearly making him stumble, and managed to channel his confusion and fury into a rather loud:

"Crazy, what the hell?"

She just looked up at him, giggling slightly and said:

"Table."

"What?" His mouth had dropped open; his mind was still trying to process what had just happened.

"Shhhhhh, it's a secret." She was still giggling.

Jayne shook his head, trying to clear the confusion, but he wasn't quite there yet, when something else took over his thoughts.

"You think cause your man-whore's gone, an' there ain't no other fellow to oblige ya, you've gotta mess with me?"

What the gorramn hell had that pretty boy done ta her ta make her that des'pret? 'Heard o' girls what are real keen on sexin', but ain't even a week since that fella left, an' she's alredy act'n like that.

"Barely started sexin' an you gotta go for anythin' ya can get? Now you list'n here, Crazy, I ain't int'rested in no lil' girl, dong ma? An' I don' have many morals, if'n you will, but I ain't sick in that way,…" He trailed off, a little lost as to how to go on. She was leaning back on the table, looking up at him with that odd little smile, her cheeks a little flushed, and Jayne had to swallow, hard.

"She's not a little girl, and he knows it. And her relationship with Adain is an amiable and deep one, but it is entirely devoid of the actions you implied."

"What?" He'd barely been able to focus on what she was saying, she'd bitten her lower lip somewhere in the middle of her speech, and his focus had slipped.

She huffed and rolled her eyes, in that way of hers that told him he was being stupid.

"Friends, not lovers. Platonic expressions of affection, devoid of any sexual undertones." She smiled again, then reached out with one booted leg, and gently stroked up the outside of his left thigh. Jayne practically jumped back and glared at her.

"Stop that! Ain't right… an what'd ya mean, no sexual… whatever. I done seen him brush your hair with ma own eyes." He'd folded his arms in front of his chest, and they were by now squeezed so closely together and against his torso, it almost hurt.

"He does not like her hair as much as Jayne does. He made her realise her feelings for Papa Bear, so she had to test his theory… she was very happy when Jayne was bright red and burgundy."

She smiled brightly again, all innocent and sweet, and some of her words sunk in.

"You didn'… I mean, with… ya know?"

She shook her head, rather enthusiastically, making her hair fly around her face to settle it in dark waves over her shoulders. She pulled her legs up onto the table, kneeled, her thighs apart, and looked at him with a serious expression and tilted her head to one side:

"He wants her too."

Jayne backed up another two steps, and promptly collided with the wall. Cursing, he spun and practically ran for the hatch, for his bunk.

The soft tapping sound of her boots on the metal grid of the corridor alerted him to the fact that River was right behind him, he turned to glare at her, practically forcing himself to tell her:

"Now you listen here, this ain't right, dong ma. I might want all sortsa things, don' mean I'm gonna get em. An' this ain't happening, ya hear. My John Thomas might have all kinds of notions about ya', but that don' mean my bain don' work no more. I'm old enough to be yer pa, an' I ain't too good with bein' all… ahm…. appropriate and such. You should'a sexed that pretty boy Inara got ya, cause he woulda…." Jayne was shaking with a mixture of anger, frustration and a couple of other emotions he wasn't too keen on examining just then.

"He's an inappropriate partner for her."

"That's what ah'm sayin'!"

"Not him, the broken boy; she is not strong enough to make him whole, and he is not strong enough to make her real. And he used to be blue and silver, maybe will be so again, just like Simon… only darker, more blue… never a boob." She'd crossed her own arms in front of her chest now, and gave Jayne a disgusted little sneer.

"What? You ain't weak, and neiter's he for that matter, I'ain't paid for nothin', he's almost as tall as myself, holdin' himself like a frail little thing when he ain't…" He was desperate now for some sort of distraction, anything to divert his mind from the things River was implying,… was offering.

"Only he and Zoë noticed." Her voice was soft, appreciative. "My Jayne's instincts are like the point of a needle." She smiled softly, then took a few steps towards him. Then she tapped her forehead lightly and told him:

"Strong here."

He snorted in fake amusement:

"An' what? Ya think I'm strong in da head?... I ain't never even finished schoolin', can't say I saw much point to it, an'…" He'd completely forgotten to keep moving away from her, and she'd managed to step right up to him, and with very little effort, had risen on the tips of her toes and had put a soft little kiss on his chin.

Jayne sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and almost stumbled backwards.

"No!… just … No!... An' I ain't yours!" With that he continued on his way, the soft clicking behind him once more, so that he spun and told her with the utmost conviction:

"No!... Stay!" like she were a dog.

She looked at him with those big sad brown eyes, but made no move to follow him, so he managed to get to his bunk, lock the hatch, and sit heavily on his bead, before he allowed himself to exhale slowly.

What the rutten hell jus' happened?... An if'n she never did nothin' with the man-whore, how'd she even know how ta look at a fella like that?... An' how'd she know how ta spread her lil' legs on that gorramn table jus' like that?... An how….?

Jayne fell back on his bed with a groan. His girls, both of the hard metal and the paper and ink variety, were looking down at him; only problem was, they didn't quite manage to calm him the way they usually did. He groaned again, then gave a derisive snort.

Jayne Cobb, the Hero of Canton, runnin' from a 19 year old girl like she were a horde o' Reavers… someone oughtta write a song 'bout that.

---

He didn't go to dinner that evening, told Mal he wasn't feeling well when he enquired via the com. He did, however, sneak out later to grab a snack… he may have been seriously perturbed by Crazy throwing herself at him, but a body still had to eat. Tearing into a protein bar, making his way to the cargo bay for a late night therapy workout, he stumble upon Zoë in the common area. As usual, she was reading. She looked up briefly, and gave him a short:

"Hey Jayne, 'you alright, you weren't at dinner?"

He just grunted around a mouth full of protein and shrugged.

"Eloquent today, ain't we?"

She got a frown for that. He swallowed, then felt sheepish just standing there, so he set down across the low table form her and enquired:

"How come you're up, it's the middle o' the night?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Jayne snorted at that.

Yea, that makes two o' us.

"Huh?"

He just shook his head and took another bite from his protein bar. Glancing over at Zoë, who was, once again, deep in her book, he noticed that she didn't look too well, tired, and a little ruffled, like she had more worries than she usually did. But he wasn't really the kind to bring that sort of thing up, so he just sat there a little longer, finished with one last bite, then made his way to the cargo bay.

On second thought, he came back and gave her a grumbled:

"Night, Zoë."

She looked up, a little surprised, and answered:

"Night, Jayne."

He noticed that the lights in the common area stayed on for the entire time that he was lifting weights; they went out only after he'd gotten up and cleared away the equipment. He took a long shower, Mal and his water regulations be damned, and even managed to suppress the urge of touching himself while thinking of a certain someone.

His dreams, however, were a completely different matter. There, everything was dark brown hair and hazel eyes, the smell of her shampoo, the way her thighs had looked when she'd kneeled on that table, her dress riding up just that bit too far, and full of shoving her up against the wall and taking her hard and proper, and getting her to purr and moan for him again.

He woke, sweaty and hard, and had a good long debate with himself about how Jayne Cobb was not the type for self-denial; and sweet relief came with a massive side of guilt, because his mind wouldn't stop straying where he'd expressly told it not to go.

He paid for it the next morning, of course, when Moonbrain came to breakfast with a rather pleased little smile on her face.

He knew that smile all too well; she usually donned it just after handing him his ass on a plate during training.

To make matters worse, she leaned real close when she reached over for some of the fruit flavoured protein rolls Kaylee had made for breakfast, and there was that smell again, herbs and some type of flower, as her hair brushed his shoulder.

Ta ma de, Crazy was going' to drive him mad!

A/N: Review's are shiny.