Title: Reality

Summary: "So, I guess we're not getting married…?" Simon/Jayne -slash-

Series/Sequel: Standalone.

Warnings: Slash. If that squicks you out, don't read it.

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss Whedon is my master etc. You'll notice that this fanfic is independent from FOX from the absence of lesbians, gunfights or explosions.

A/N:
1) Simon's POV. In case that wasn't obvious.
2)Set pretty soon after "Objects in Space", which is why Inara is still there.
3)This is inspired mostly by a deleted scene from "Our Mrs. Reynolds", where River realises that everyone pairs off and tries to get Simon to marry her. Just made me think that of all the reactions, her would be by far the most interesting.

Thanks to Cyn(di) for the beta!

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Mal was the first to realise, mostly because he walked in on us. Not doing anything too compromising, you understand (and thank God for that – I don't think I'd ever be able to look him in the eye again), he just let himself into Jayne's room early one morning to talk about weapons or explosions or crime or some such, and I happened to be there. Asleep. In Jayne's bunk. Lacking clothes. Of course, Mal couldn't do the civilised thing and cough or knock on the hatch or announce his presence in some other way, so at least we'd know we'd been…'found out', I suppose. Instead, he decided to share his exciting new discovery with Zoë, on the grounds that as first mate she needed to know everything that happened on the ship, and she just had to mention it to Wash, on the grounds that she married him and all. And Wash, who sometimes lacks the ability to keep his mouth shut, casually mentioned it to Kaylee one day over a bout of ship maintenance.

Once she'd gotten over the shock (and the tears. Wash was very clear about telling me that I'd made her cry) Kaylee, as is her tendency, started to look for the bright side. Which she found, after a little female bonding with Inara – yes, so the chances of anything ever happening between us was now, for all intents and purposes, nil. Things could be worse, and given the line of work we followed, the old truism "Well, you could be dead" really took on a new level of meaning. Two people Kaylee cared about were happy (in our own bizarre, nonsensical way) and she could stop obsessing over something that, much as I liked her, was never really likely to happen. While not exactly happy at the thought of everyone else on the ship gossiping about my sex life, when I heard about all of this afterwards I was grateful at least for Inara's wisdom and level-headedness when it came to matters of sex. Having a Companion on board is useful not only for gaining access to the more high-class planets, but also for helping to sort out the more…complicated elements of the romantic entanglements that inevitably develop when a small amount of people are locked in together in an enclosed space for weeks on end.

Of course, I had no idea any of this was going on. I was still happily oblivious, convinced our little tryst was still a secret, perhaps even enjoying it more because of that. So when Kaylee made a casual comment about it over dinner one night (something along the lines of "So, when are you and Jayne gonna be shackin' up together?") I nearly choked to death on my protein bar. As did Shepherd Book, who no one had thought to let in on the ship's worst kept secret. As the Captain, Zoë and Wash sniggered like children, Jayne remained nonchalant – he looked surprised for a few seconds, but then shrugged and went back to chewing. I wasn't quite as good at taking this in my stride.

"What…who…what?" I managed before running out of words and resorting to gaping like a fish.

The next few minutes were something of a blur – while Jayne, at the other end of the table, seemed to be weighing up his desire to punch Wash (who was making so many 'funny' 'jokes' I'm surprised he could find time to breathe between them) with his knowledge of how much Zoë would hurt him if he did, Kaylee (taking it surprisingly well, all things considered) bombarded me with questions, mostly about how we ended up…you know. That story being both mundane and embarrassing (involving one of our few successful heists, the large quantity of grain alcohol we bought to celebrate and a drunken truce leading to a drunken hug leading to a drunken something more), not to mention my current inability to form full sentences, I muttered a few monosyllabic answers and then made an excuse about checking up on River before leaving the table almost at a dead run. That was one of the few things I could be thankful for – that River hadn't been at the table tonight. Her latest drug cocktail had made her more lucid and calm, but quite nauseous as a side effect – even the thought of being around food right now made her retch. It was going to be hard enough already to try and explain this to her – I had been putting it off, but now that everyone else knew, I wanted to tell her myself rather than have her hear it from someone else. I came to a halt in the corridor outside her room, trying to work out what exactly it was I was going to tell her; I was so deep in thought I didn't even hear his footsteps, only realising he was behind me when he laid a hand on my shoulder. For someone so large, he does 'stealthy' remarkably well.

"You OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah, I'm…I'm fine," I muttered, not exactly sure how to explain to him what I was feeling. River and I have always been close, and I didn't want her to feel threatened. Aside from that little incident with the knife she hadn't shown any outward hostility towards Jayne, even after that time he tried to sell us to the Alliance, but there was no guarantee she'd stay that way. I didn't want her to try and hurt him, and more than that, I didn't want to hurt her feelings – considering how much better she had been doing lately, causing her any kind of emotional upset would almost definitely be counterproductive.

Perhaps sensing my reluctance to have this conversation right next to her door, he pulled me into my own room and shut the door after us.

"You don't wanna tell her, huh? 'Fraid she might have one of her little hissy fits?"

"That just about sums it up in its most simplistic form, yes," I replied tersely – sometimes Jayne's habit of saying exactly what he was thinking could get tiresome.

"Well, she's meant to be some kind o' psychic, i'nt she? Could be she knows already."

"I suppose she might. It's hard to tell with her sometimes. She tends to talk around things, speak in riddles. For all I know, we could have been discussing this for weeks without me even realising it." Another sudden thought hit me. "How are the others…?" I let the question hang.

Jayne shrugged. "Mal spouted some crap about inter-crew relations, don't think even he believed it, and I 'spect we'll be hearing from the preacher about hellfire and all that, but apart from that no one much cares. Why would they?"

An excellent question, and one that slapped me in the face again with how different my new life was. Back on the core planets, the 'civilised' ones, homosexuality was still something of a taboo, acknowledged but considered 'unseemly'. Yet out here in the back-end of nowhere, the savages (as I had always thought of them) were indifferent. I'm sure there's a certain irony to be found in that, and while I was under no illusions that all of the outer planets would share that outlook (having come within minutes of being burned at the stake) it was still nice to know that the crew wouldn't turn on me. Mock me, maybe, but that was hardly uncharted territory.

But while that weight was lifted, the far more pressing one of River remained. Jayne, perhaps mistaking my preoccupation for something worse, began to look almost worried.

"You're not…I mean, we're still…this don't change nothin', does it?"

I hurried to reassure him. "No, no. Well, yes, obviously this changes things a little. But we're still…whatever it is we are." We had avoided having this kind of talk so far, putting labels on things, discussing feelings, and while this wasn't exactly an ideal time, I was too intrigued by the very concept of Jayne having this talk with anyone to try and stop him.

"Well, good, 'cause it's, you know, we're, we're…" Realising he was descending into gibberish as he often did when attempting to string more than two sentences together, he caught himself and started over. "I kinda like what we got goin' on here."

Alright, it's hardly poetry, but the meaning behind it was sincere. And considering who it was coming from, and who it was directed at, it meant a lot. But that didn't mean I was going to pass up a perfectly good opening.

"My God!" I said in mock astonishment. "Did you just express human emotions? Is this the beginning of a new, more sensitive Jayne?"

He punched me on the arm (which, ow. Even with the lightest of taps, Jayne's strong as an ox) but couldn't hide his smirk. As our eyes met, I felt that same sensation I'd felt on the first night – alright, so we're two very different people. Very, very different. There's still an indefinable something between us, a connection that goes deeper than fancy words ever could. And it's that connection that draws me to him, that keeps us doing…this, whatever 'this' is. Unconventional it may be, deeply weird to anyone looking in from the outside, but for us, it works. And what else really matters?

Grabbing me and pulling me in for a quick kiss, he murmured, "You go do what you gotta do. And if you feel like it, afterwards…" Leaving the rest unspoken, he patted my ass and started to walk out of the room. Wow I thought. Romantic invitation like that, how could anyone refuse? But I knew that, given half the chance, I'd be trotting after him right now. As he opened the door, I called out to him.

"Hey." And as he turned: "I kinda like this too." With one of his few genuine smiles (not to be confused with his "I'm thinking about sex" smile or his "I'm about to hurt somebody" smile) he turned again and walked away, tossing back one last remark over his shoulder.

"I'll be in my bunk."

The smile quickly left my face as I realised that, with Jayne gone, I couldn't put it off any longer. Half praying for Kaylee (or even Mal or Book) to come and talk at me, I walked across the hall to River's room. As I opened the door, I saw her lying on her bed, back to me, but from her irregular breathing I could tell she was still awake.

"Hey sweetheart. How're you feeling?"

"They know," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, turning to face me, tears on the edge of her eyes. "They know and that makes it real, and reality can't be fought with. Can't be hidden away."

I sat down next to her, but she shrank away as I tried to take her hand. "You know," I said, stating a fact more than asking.

"I knew first, like always. They saw the friction, the facade, but I could unmask it, unmask and look at the true face, the reality. They see the lines, I see between. But now that everyone's one the same page…" she trailed off, and I was left stumped, wondering if she even knows when she uses these weird little clichés and idioms. Before I could even think of how to respond, she went on.

"So, I guess we're not getting married…?" Her voice cracked as she spoke. I hated the thought that this was hurting her, that she couldn't understand, but even though she would always be the most important person in my life, I didn't want her to be the only one.

"No, we're not." The least I owed her was honesty.

"Don't…don't you love me?" she whispered, her gaze going back to her feet.

"Of course!" I blurted out, shocked. "Mei-mei, I love you more than anyone, you know that. Right now, there's someone else who's important in my life, and there'll probably be more in the future. But you come first. You will always come first, you understand me?"

She sniffled a little and looked up at me again, a little more hope in her eyes.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She jumped across the bed and threw her arms around my neck, nearly choking me. As quickly as she had started the hug, she pulled back, looking at me in that way she has that makes me think she can look right inside my soul.

"Will you stay in here tonight? Stay with me?"

I smiled at her, happy that she seemed to be calmer now. "Of course. I'll stay."

A massive grin spread across River's face, her mood changing in the blink of an eye. "Well, I don't want you here," she said, in her best "bratty little sister" voice. The more playful: "You've got places to be. People to see."

"Wh-What?" I stuttered, confused by this complete turnaround. "What are you –?"

She smirked and tapped the side of her cabin that faced towards my room. "Walls talk. Whisper things they shouldn't, secret things."

For a moment I was lost, until it hit me: "You brat! You were testing me!" I was caught somewhere between shock at her underhanded tactics and happiness at her implicit acceptance.

"If I asked you to, you'd be here. When I need you, you won't leave me," she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "But right now, I don't need you."

"Are you sure? I mean, I could –"

"You snore. Loudly," she cut me off. That settled it. Standing up, I squeezed her hand one last time.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" She stuck her tongue out at me in reply. For a moment I lingered in the doorway, half-expecting her to change again, but she gave me a serene little smile and lay back down, turning her back on me. I closed the door behind me, a little stunned both at her ease in playing with me and at her ready acceptance of this new state of affairs. Although I suppose, given the amount of changes she'd been through in recent months, this was one of the less earth-shaking ones. I still had lectures from the Captain and Shepherd Book to look forward to, but I felt lighter now than I had for days. I walked down the passageway with a new spring in my step. Places to be, people to see.

I had a bunk to get to.