Stand or Fall

Disclaimer: The wonderful Firefly characters and the good ship Serenity all belong to Joss Whedon, or Mutant Enemy, or 20th Century Fox, or whoever actually owns them, and that person or entity is definitely not me. Written for amusement purposes only. No copyright infringement intended or implied.

Any original characters are mine, I suppose, unless any of the above mentioned would like use of them. Fair is fair.

This is a story that was originally posted on Forecast: Rayne. Finally getting around to posting it here (not that anyone cares now, lol). I cleaned up some grammar, but otherwise this pretty much the original fic.

Rating: M, for rough language and strong sensual content. No minors, please.

Summary: When love comes at you like a bullet, you really only have two options.(Rayne)

Stand or Fall

River had daily proof she was damned. And damnation, the eternal punishment to which she was condemned, came in the form of temptation, specifically, temptation involving a large, crude, self-absorbed mercenary who made her life hell in more ways than he could ever possibly fathom. He irritated her, he intrigued her; he frustrated and sometimes repulsed her. His big body, honed to muscular excellence, fascinated and seduced her. She appreciated a well-conditioned machine, and there was no denying he was that. With each nonchalant display of strength, each sinewy ripple, each flashing grin, fascination morphed slowly into desire, and desire into longing, needing only one further impetus in order for her malediction to be complete.

That impetus was reciprocity, she noted with despairing amusement, and Jayne was diabolically considerate enough to provide it. He was not indifferent to her, and he had difficulty concealing it, especially when they were alone. He would never make any overt gesture, but his eyes would flare at a glimpse of her thigh as her skirt moved, or follow the shadow of her cleavage as she bent over for something, or watch the trail of her almost waist-length dark hair as it flowed down her back… Looks pretty, soft, wish I could touch it... even though her physic abilities had faded considerably as her brain organically attempted to repair itself, when she concentrated, and he was unguarded in his thoughts, she could catch his internal monologue. He'd seen her naked once before and sometimes he fantasized on how her body had changed over the past three years. River admitted it gratified her, those indications of his interest, even while she wondered unhappily if he would have reacted in a similar manner to any unattached, reasonably attractive young female forced so often to his attention.

During her hours on the bridge, River would stare out into the black and daydream about him, about them, weaving passionate, romantic scenarios about how and where and when they would finally come together. She attempted to calculate how high a price she was willing to pay for even one time with him, one chance to quench the want and see if the reality would finally, irrevocably, subdue the fantasy. It almost tempted her: fuck him and be done with him…until the frightening thought crossed her mind that initiating a physical relationship with Jayne might be the equivalent of taking an addictive drug, finding nirvana, and being sentenced to endless cravings with no relief in sight. And if he ever realized he had that kind of power over her…just the thought was unsettling. She convinced herself it was better not to know.

For months, River attempted to wrestle her desire into submission. She tried to avoid him, and when that proved problematic, tried to pick apart his most potent attractor, his physique, which was even more difficult. When she was reduced to criticizing the whorled patterns of his chest hair while he lifted weights and failing miserably because close examination of that particular area only proved highly arousing, she knew she had lost that battle. She began cataloguing all of his many personality faults, his every stupidity. His ripostes of sarcastic brilliance were glossed over as anomalies, his encyclopedic knowledge of weaponry written off as mere trivia, and his instinctive understanding of terrain and offensive advantage on jobs dismissed as broken clock guesses. She would purposefully bait him at mealtimes, and let Simon handle the rest, wondering why watching Jayne snap and bluster only made her feel ashamed and perversely protective.

Thou fool's self-chosen snare, River quoted to herself in eventual, miserable defeat. She was caught. Struggling only tightened the noose.

River was poised precariously on the console, having fit her toes on the edge and precisely along the metal frames between switches, fragile panels and instruments, needle-nose pliers in hand, trying to reach an awkwardly-placed fuse block directly above her head. She'd taken down the plate that housed the block, and she could actually see the small blackened fuse that was the cause of her wave screen malfunction, but it was proving very difficult to get at from any angle.

She made a frustrated little noise and shifted slightly.

"Ever hear of a stepladder?" Jayne's amused voice came from the direction of the door.

Half-turned, balanced with one slender leg arched elegantly before her, River lowered her head and peered at him through the hoop created by her upraised arms. He was wearing his usual khakis and a burnt orange t-shirt with the logo of Persephone's most infamous whorehouse emblazoned across the front. Her eyes moved down, and she saw that he was carrying a battered metal tool kit in his hand. Just standing there, he made her heart start to pound.

"There isn't anywhere to set it up that would be more advantageous," she shrugged a little, trying to sound briskly business-like. "Why are you here?"

"You didn't complain about the locker door to the captain?" he gestured toward the dangling door with its hinge pin broken off.

"A month ago, yes," River replied briefly.

"Well, he was pissed at me eatin' the last apple and he just 'remembered.' Any problem with me fixin' it now?"

"I suppose not." River swallowed, trying to concentrate on what she was doing.

He swung the door back and forth with a metallic scree, checking the damage for himself, then knelt down on one knee and began rifling noisily through the tool kit. He glanced back up at her blandly, and because she was so focused on him, River could hear him thinking that with the way she was standing her shorts were stretched across her ass so tight she might as well not be wearin' any. He was checking to see if he could see the line of her underwear.

She closed her eyes briefly, praying for strength. She had to get this done – they would be docking tonight, and she needed access to the cortex. She could sense his growing arousal…it was so distracting.

Wave panel. Fuse. Right there. She lifted up onto her very tiptoes, twisted her wrist, and finally nipped the edges of the pliers around it.

Wonder what color her panties are, if she's even wearin' 'em…

River winced, and tugged on the fuse, darting a glance at him. Jayne was apparently having no difficulty amusing himself with this internal running commentary as he stood up and went to work, unscrewing the remaining hinges of the door with quick flicks of his wrist. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

Don't seem like a lace kinda girl…maybe a thong…? Satin…she'd do justice to a satin thong all right…

River's hand slipped and she lost her tentative hold on the fuse. Gritting her teeth, she reengaged, the muscles in her arms starting to feel the strain of holding the same position for so long.

I got it… ha ha …crotchless…

The pliers lurched again, along with her senses. Red-faced and infuriated, she dropped her arms and glowered down at him.

"Yes!" she burst out. "I am wearing underwear! They are white hipsters, with cotton lace edging!"

Jayne's head jerked around to look at her. His face blanked in consternation for a second as he realized he must have been broadcasting, but he rallied and started to laugh.

"Well, thanks. Care to describe your bra?"

"Not wearing one." With a taunting smirk River jerked down the elastic line of her purple and gold scoop-necked blouse, exposing the creamy expanse of her shoulder and upper breast, proving that there were no bra straps. "No ruminating on my bra is necessary, Jayne."

Jayne's eyes glinted as he turned that over in his mind, before he sauntered forward with a loose-hipped swagger, staring up at her wickedly.

"You comin' on to me, girl?" he teased, a silky edge to his voice.

River lost her balance. Weaving back and forth for a second, she used the tensile strength of her dancer's thighs to spring forward, just barely managing to keep from crashing into the console or the pilot's chair. She landed as lightly as possible, Jayne reaching out and steadying her with one big hand on her forearm. Humiliated at her uncharacteristic clumsiness, still flustered a bit from the seductive lilt of his voice, she jerked away and sneered at him.

"Me? Coming on to you?"

"Describin' your panties, flashin' me some skin, throwin' yourself at me…" Jayne grinned, thoroughly enjoying this. "What am I s'posed to think?"

"Oh, yes," River's words dripped sarcasm as she stared up at him, her expression tight. "Go with that, because we both know thinking is your strong suit, ain't it? You're so right, Jayne. Oh, I want you. I want you so badly. I want to run my hands all over your body. I want to drag your head down to mine and kiss you until we're both breathless. I want you to take off all my clothes so that you can see those white cotton undies for yourself…I dream about you sexin' me up, you big…brawny…masculine… man." She ended with an overwrought, panting moan.

Every word out of her mouth had only incensed her further. River had never known this peculiar sort of hysterical rage before, born of frustration, denial, and the bitterness of uncertainty. So he thought he could wind her up, thought he could tease her and embarrass her and tantalize her…two could play at that game. Every word she'd just spoken to him was the truth, but the truth so coated with venomous loathing that it was guaranteed to bite deeply and fester.

Jayne backed up a step, all laughter flown, his face a taut mask of anger and…hurt? He stared down at her for a long moment.

"Yeah, I got it. Thought a me makes you sick. Can't you take a joke?" He shook his head, his lip curled in disdain, his eyes narrowed. "Actually think I liked you better when you were half feng dian," he continued in a low voice. "You mighta been slightly homicidal, but you weren't nearly such a bitch."

With that he turned and moved off, pausing only to grab up his tool kit before he slammed off the bridge.

River stood there, shaking, her mouth beginning to tremble and tears forming in her eyes. What had come over her? Why had she been so cruel? Why had she punished him for her own weakness?

Blindly, she dropped the pliers onto the pilot's chair, and then gripped the back to steady herself. Oh, god. Her whole body pulsed with misery as she replayed the instant his flirty, sexy grin had vanished, swept away by her malicious words. She must have looked and sounded like she hated him. Oh, god. She had to fix this. She couldn't go on any more. She didn't care any more. She had to see him, try to explain…

She smeared the tears from her eyes with unsteady hands and checked to make sure that the auto pilot was locked and the proximity alarm engaged. Her immediate responsibility to the ship fulfilled, she left the bridge, and went to find him.

He was on the port shuttle, stacking boxes and sorting through the clutter accumulated by years of use as a junk room/storage area. The captain had recently decided that he was going to try and rent out a shuttle again, and the starboard shuttle, still referred as Inara's Shuttle, was the one that Mal wanted to keep for Serenity's use. River knew it held too many memories of the companion for the captain to want anyone else having a claim to it.

"Jayne..." She put one tentative foot over the hatch.

He flicked a deadly glance in her direction. He lifted a box of Kaylee's machine junk off the bare mattress of an old camp bed and practically hurled it across the space. It hit the floor with a crash.

"Go away."

"Please, I'm sorry…" River looked nervously over her shoulder to see if anyone would come to investigate the noise. Probably not, everyone had heard the captain nagging Jayne to get at the shuttle this morning at breakfast. She turned just in time to duck as a cable of rope flew in her direction and smacked against the wall right next to her head. That was a pretty clear message.

"Get out."

"No!" River set her mouth stubbornly, stepped all the way in, and closed the door behind her. She engaged the lock with a slap of her palm.

He had not been expecting that, and he paused in what he was doing to stare at her suspiciously.

River moved forward cautiously, watching him closely, alert for any more projectiles.

"I'm sorry. Let me explain…"

"Said enough already. Get the fuck out." His voice was cold, but his eyes were hot.

"Jayne…" Now that he was here, before her, she started to shake once again. "Jayne…" How to explain?

"Fine – you clean the shuttle, I'll go sit on my ass on the bridge," he barked out, and made to push past her. River put her hands up to his chest, using all her strength to stop him.

He looked down at her, shocked that she had restrained him like that.

"Please…" she began again. He shook his head a little in angry rejection and tried to peel her hands off of his shirt. River persisted, thinking, no, this can't end like this, no…

"I'm trying to tell you – "

"Shut up!" He snapped, locking his hands around her upper arms and trying to shove her away.

Suddenly desperate, River's words burst forth in an anguished torrent.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have said all that I know it was malicious but you were teasing me and I became angry because I was too afraid to tell you how I really felt so I took refuge in sarcasm but everything I said was true, every word out of my mouth was real it was the tone that was inaccurate as Carlyle said sarcasm is the work of the devil and should be renounced and I do renounce it I do want to touch you I do want to kiss you and I want to be with you I've wanted it for a long time and I sensed, I think, I know you want it too so if you could please please please –"

"Shut up – just…shut up!" He said in confused aggravation, shaking her a little, and suddenly, more to end the stream of words than anything else, his mouth came down on hers, hard.

River was forced to swallow back the rest of her plea with a painful mew as his lips moved across hers with punitive urgency. The levee had been breached – by Jayne! She acknowledged with blissful hope – and now released, they flowed into one other like water. That kiss, their first kiss…the blood was pounding so hard through her body that there was a roaring in her ears.

River didn't know what to do with her hands, and they slid up to latch onto his wide shoulders. She pleated the smooth, worn cotton of his t-shirt between her fingers, appreciating the hard warmth of his muscles beneath. As her mouth softened under his, his touch gentled, and the kiss that had begun with such chastising pressure eased into an intimate, passionate exploration. Lips and tongues met and clung, as his big hands slid down her body, urging her higher, pressing her to him. Even that seemed inadequate, and his muffled bleat of frustration told her he wanted more. He dragged her forward, holding her against his chest tightly as he lowered himself and sank back onto the old camp bed behind him, pulling her over him and shifting her body into the cradle of his thighs. She was draped across him, one of his hands spread across her shoulder blades, the other pressing against the small of her back.

He kissed her and touched her with a searching intensity that made River think that he had been fantasizing about this moment just as she had. His hands cupped the softness of her breasts, slid under her shirt to caress the slender wings of her shoulder blades, and delved deep into the fall of her shimmering hair. He skimmed his palms slowly across her back, taking his time for now, moving in increasingly seductive, increasingly lower circles of pleasure. When his hand finally slid underneath the waistband of her stretchy shorts and beneath her underwear to grip and knead the firm flesh of her bottom, River broke off with an aroused gasp.

"You like that, huh?" he said thickly.

She nodded, looking down at him with dazed desire, never having imagined the riot of sensations that could be caused by his touch.

One cheek curved with a satisfied grin and he tightened his hold on her left thigh, spreading her legs wider, bucking his hips slightly as he pressed her down against the hard bulge of his erection. From behind his fingers dipped lower, between her legs, brushing against the dampness there, causing River to emit a choking moan.

"Like that, too?" he whispered, his breath hot on her cheek.

"Yes," River's eyelids fluttered shut as she trembled.

"Christ," he rasped, starting to shake himself.

His hand shifted around and plunged down the front of her shorts, cupping her fully, his big fingers stroking, tweaking, sliding inside of her, pumping gently. River could only clutch at him, quivering and moaning at the sensations that blossomed with his knowing touch, feeling tingling warmth arrow upwards to loosen in the pit of her stomach.

Jayne rolled her onto her side, kissing her roughly, his tongue echoing the thrust of his fingers. Only a few minutes more and she felt herself begin a widening spiral of pleasure that lead inexorably to a gut-clenching orgasm. River was still gasping, still boneless with reaction, when she felt him strip her shorts and underwear down her legs and yank them off. He guided her onto her back, pushing up her top so that he could see her breasts and spreading her legs wide, looking down at her nakedness as he fumbled with his own clothing.

"I want you, River, I want to get inside you…" he growled as he edged into the juncture of her thighs. Jaw clenched, body quaking, he held himself away from her. "Yes or no? If ya don't want this, say it now…"

River stared up at him, feeling almost shell-shocked…the force of his desire was like a sensory barrage, pummeling her from within. Did she want him? At this moment it was impossible to remember a time when she had not.

"Yes, yes…" The thready whisper was barely out of her mouth before he uttered a strangled Mandarin imprecation, centered himself, and thrust forward.

River's whimper of excitement was lost in the depths of his mouth as his lips covered hers once again. She had been examined at the Academy more than once, penetrated and widened by cold steel specula. Her virginity had been taken in a clinical manner, but she had never felt a man inside of her before, filling her, a hot, deep, wonderful ache that stole her breath away with each powerful surge. Jayne used one hand to angle her hip, fitting her even more tightly against his body, sliding his palm along one smooth thigh, encouraging her to wrap her leg around his waist.

"Jayne…Jayne…" River panted brokenly, the sound a thin chant of encouragement. After the initial shock her body began to sense the rhythm of this dance, and she flexed beneath him, seeking maximum pleasure and giving it in return.

He raised his head, and looked down at her with approval, a rasping groan issuing from his throat.

"Ruttin' perfect…" he muttered hoarsely. "I knew it…"

His movements increased in urgency and he bowed his body over hers, into hers, his eyes widening and darkening as he came inside her, never breaking eye contact until he shuddered through the final pulse and his head dropped down as the fierce tension eased. River lifted her mouth and pressed a wobbly kiss to the little furrow between his brows.

Jayne was breathing heavily, trembling as he remained poised above her, trying not to crush her with his full weight, still feeling the aftermath of his orgasm. As his body relaxed he moved his hips, starting to withdraw, and River instinctively tightened her legs and arms around him.

No, don't let it be over, she mourned inwardly. Not yet.

He gave a husky, pleased laugh, but continued to pull away.

"Too heavy for ya," he murmured, "and the captain may come lookin' for either one of us any time." He pushed himself to his knees and slid off the cot, adjusting himself in his boxers, tucking in his shirt and zipping up with swift, efficient tugs. Chilled and bereft, River wondered sadly how many other times he had gotten himself back together after quick and furtive sex.

She flushed a little as she realized he was once again fully clothed and she was still splayed out, half-naked on the cot. Half-naked and slightly…drippy. Her daydreams had never included that particular circumstance. The reality of the situation set in and River felt a sudden, tremendous awkwardness. She pulled down her shirt to cover herself as much as possible and lifted her head and looked around for a blanket, or a towel, anything she could utilize to wipe herself up before she put her underwear back on. There was nothing, and River's melancholy intensified as she realized their much-fantasized-about first encounter had actually taken place in this ugly, cluttered space. Her experience of transcendent delight seemed reduced by their location, making it seem only an illicit, offhand screw on a bare mattress, their frantic coupling no more meaningful than a momentary disruption of the fine layer of grime that coated everything in here. What was he thinking? Was she just a body, used and sticky, finished with, or had this meant anything to him?

"Jayne," she began uncomfortably, raising her eyes to his as she sat up, "this is embarrassing, but I have to ask if you…" She meant to ask if he had a handkerchief or a rag, something…

"Don't worry," he offered quickly, his blue eyes serious. "My implant's got over a year to go, and I tested myself since the last time I been with anyone. I'm clean."

"That's not what –" River stopped. No, that wasn't what she'd been asking, but it was really good to know. She blinked, stunned. Events had transpired with such heart-shaking rapidity that it had never even occurred to her that she might have gotten pregnant. She was certainly not doing anything to prevent it. She looked at Jayne in amazement, strangely proud of him for being so responsible. "Thank you," she said softly.

He gave a minute, dismissive shrug. "I ain't that stupid."

"You're not stupid," she contradicted automatically.

"That's a new tune comin' from a Tam," he snorted, a tiny bit of hostility entering his tone once again.

River looked away, because his statement had validity, and she was not particularly proud of that at this moment. She crept toward the edge of the cot, searching the floor for a glimpse of her clothing.

"Here." He knelt down and pulled the wad of material out from underneath the camp bed, shaking off a few a dust bunnies and untangling the pieces before handing them to her. He lingered over the underwear, soft white cotton with lace edging, and they exchanged a humorous, but oddly pained look. With a slight moue of distaste, River bent over to slip her bare feet through the leg holes of her panties as discreetly as possible.

Jayne turned away abruptly as she stood to pull them up fully, fidgeting toward the door a bit, as if he really wanted to be gone.

"I didn't, uh, rip nothin', did I?" he asked awkwardly. It took River a second to realize he was asking more about her, than the clothing.

"No, it's fine." There was a little silence.

"You gonna tell anyone?" He cleared his throat, putting out one hand to flick the hatch lock up and down idly, trying to seem casual as he waited tensely for her reply.

"No," River swallowed, wanting to cry. She was finished dressing, but she stood there, her knees feeling weak and rubbery, waiting for something, some sign from him that would indicate what the future held for them. Damnation came full circle as she accepted the fact that her feelings were engaged to the extent that she would stand there forever, if necessary.

"Good. That's good. It's just between us," he glanced at her quickly for confirmation.

River gave a tiny nod, her throat tight with disappointment.

"Okay, then," he reached out to the pull bar of the hatch door. And stopped. River watched the muscles of his back twitch with indecision; saw a dark flush rise on the cords of his neck. "Gorramit." She heard him whisper. "Gorramit." And then he was turning, crossing the small space to jerk her into his arms, his mouth hungry as it clamped down onto hers, plundering her soft lips with a combination of renewed desire and something close to desperation. River liquefied in his embrace, a rapturous relief flooding every cell of her body. He ended the kiss and pulled her tightly against him, his head bent to hers, cheek to cheek, his mouth at her temple.

"Meet me back here after the ship goes dark…twenty-three hundred. I'll wait for an hour. If ya don't come, I'll know this is…done," he croaked raggedly. He released her so quickly that she almost stumbled back onto the cot. He slid the hatch door open, looked hurriedly from side to side, and was gone.

River closed her eyes, letting her head fall back as she swayed a little bit, her body shivering in reaction. She tried to think through everything that happened, what they had begun. There were no words to describe it; no way to rationalize it… The pendulum swing from bitter despair to heart-soaring happiness was overloading her system. There really was only one thing to be done in this situation. She took a deep breath, and with one bounding leap she was on the cot, jumping up and down on unsteady legs, stuffing her hands into her mouth to prevent the eruption of her breathless squeals of utter, impossible joy.

Chapter Notes:

Thanks for reading... ^_~ Gem