Aria A Cappella

Part 6

Author's Note: I was really lacking inspiration for this story. I knew where I wanted it to go, but not how to get there. Then I saw 'Serenity'. (On a personal note…I got 3 new Green Day CDs! Well, new to me. Yay!)

Jayne scowled, tugging at his neatly pressed clothes, and called it a rutting waste of money. River shut her eyes and whirled around, arms fully extended, and called it a galaxy of spinning stars. Madame just smiled and nodded, and called it one of the best parties she had ever thrown.

The magnificent hall of the floating mansion was filled nearly to bursting with beautiful people in beautiful costumes. The first masquerade ball on Maat seemed destined to be a success. The novelty of thing, the wealthy guests murmured to each other from behind dazzling masks, how clever! How central!

Jayne looked deeply uncomfortable in a neat black suit with a scarlet waistcoat. A simple, unadorned black mask framed his eyes, which darted back and forth with suspicion. He looked and felt like a trapped animal, dying for an escape. But instead of dashing from the room, or pulling out a trusty pistol as he would have liked to; he rooted himself to a spot on the floor. Opposite the punch bowl, he was able to observe the entire affair without actually participating in it. He scanned the room now, looking for River. It didn't take long to find her.

In the veritable sea of color and sparkle, River stood out. She wore a lovely white gown. A fitted bodice decorated with silver embroidery spread into a floating chiffon skirt. Her mask was much more elaborate than Jayne's, in order to draw attention away from her features. Like her dress, it was white, but it was decorated with what Jayne assumed to be real diamonds. Madame did not cut corners when it came to parties. Jayne grunted as his eyes landed on the girl. She had begun the night by his side, entering with him and standing next to him as he took up his post by the pillar. However, the unattached young men at the party (and even some of the attached ones) soon drifted in their general direction.

It wasn't long before one handsome youth mustered the courage to walk up to the slim girl in white standing next to the bulky man in black and request a dance. Jayne had not been in contact with her since. She whisked from partner to partner, never seeming to need a break. She twirled, and she laughed, and she sparkled in the many lights. Jayne eyed her and her latest partner grumpily. He noticed the man's hand resting just above where the smooth bodice gave way into the wide skirt. He didn't understand none of it. What made the crazy girl so attractive? She wasn't even pretty. Sure, she was cute and all…but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Ummm…" A hesitant voice and a flurry of giggles pulled him away from River, and back to his own body. His eyes focused in front of him on the girl who stood there. She was dressed all in a deep mossy green that, combined with her darkly tanned skin, gave her the look of some kind of forest spirit. Her mask was a second thought, only a few strips of green circling smoky eyes. She gave him a half-smile as he arched his eyebrows at her.

"What?" Jayne asked with all his usual decorum.

"I…I was wondering if you'd like to dance." The small semi-circle of friends that hovered a few feet behind her erupted into shrill laughter again. She blushed.

"I…err…I don't dance." He ended lamely. The girl blushed more furiously for an instant, then the flush faded. She looked up at him, pursing her painted lips playfully.

"Ever tried?"

And as he looked at her, this strange girl who was gazing at him flirtatiously, Jayne Cobb felt something he had never before felt in his life: self-consciousness. He didn't belong here. Fancy balls and expensive clothes were never meant for men like him. He had intruded on this world, and he didn't fit. It had never struck him like this before. He didn't fit in most places he went. He dealt with it, expected it. But never in his life had he felt so deeply and fundamentally out of place. A cool panic settled over him like mist. Though his body remained still, his mind was frantically searching for an escape. Anything to get away from this wrong place.

His eyes darted away from the now confused girl and landed on River. She was no longer dancing. Her partner was looking at her questioningly, but she stood, straight backed, staring. Her face was blank, she did not blink; she simply stood staring. She was staring at him.

Jayne felt stumbling backwards might be the right reaction at this point. However, his legs were still inconveniently leaden. So he stared back at her. He stared, and she stared. She stared, and he stared. They stared at each other, and the room stared at them.

Then River screamed.

Jayne walked the hallways in solitude. It was unlike him to be introspective or thoughtful. He was a man of action, not of mind. He wasn't actually thinking now, not really. His mind was mostly blank as he walked. However, it was the closest thing to introspection one could expect from Jayne Cobb.

He still wasn't exactly sure how his legs managed to come back to life and get him halfway across the room before she hit the floor. It didn't really matter, he supposed. All the mattered was that he did. River did not smash her skull against the polished dance floor, and Jayne was left holding an unconscious waif, protecting her from the force of mostly artificial gravity.

He walked past the now abandoned ballroom. Despite Madame's assertions that River was perfectly fine (just a bit too much excitement), the guests were gone in a hurry. Jayne had no inkling of it, being unfamiliar with society, but 'that strange girl at Madame Rosseau's masquerade' would become the most popular tale of the year. It would be repeated with great exuberance and a bit of extravagant detail to all those unfortunate enough to have missed it.

He continued along, striding through maze-like halls until he saw a long rectangle of light splayed across the dark floor. He frowned at it and, touching a hand to the knife stuffed in his waistband, continued toward it with suspicion. As he drew nearer, he realized it was light coming through an open door. He reached it and stopped so that his toes were just on the edge of the line of light. He placed a hand on the doorframe and peered inside.

River stood, half bent over, thin arms straining. Her gown was half unzipped, falling open slightly, exposing her back. He was sure he hadn't made any sound, but she turned her head to look at him. A sheepish smile spread across her face.

"Got stuck." It was at that moment Jayne first realized that River was beautiful. Maybe she wasn't as traditionally and physically attractive as other girls. Maybe her mind was a mess. But the way she carried herself, the untainted emotion that flashed across her face, the pure abandon with which she danced…she was beautiful. This realization was very shocking, and Jayne suddenly found himself feeling uncomfortable. He shifted a bit, started to leave. "Help."

The single word stopped him, and without making a conscious decision to, he walked into the room and stood behind her. His fingers hovered for a moment. They looked so rough and dark against her smooth snowy back. They looked like shadows marring an otherwise bright landscape. Then he grasped the back of her dress as gently as possible, so as not to tear it or smudge anything on it, and wiggled the zipper until it sank down.

"Fooled them," River murmured unexpectedly. Jayne paused at the strange proud melancholy in her voice.

"Fooled who?" She laughed shortly, but it was lacking in warmth.

"All of them. Thought she was a girl, so they flocked to her. Then they found out she was only a ghost, and they all ran away." She was talking about the ball. Jayne continued unzipping, feeling very awkward. His sudden talent for understanding her words unnerved him. Plus the fact that he was standing in this girl's room, undoing her dress…if anyone on Serenity ever found out about this, he would be dead where he stood. It was not until he had finished his task that he realized how very dead he could soon be. For the zipper was down, the dress was sliding off, and it was obvious there was nothing under it to cover her soon-to-be-exposed torso.

With a grunt of embarrassment, he turned and began to exit. But she closed her hand around his wrist, effectively immobilizing him. He half turned back to her, looking only out of the corner of his eye, trying to judge if it was safe to look. It was, in fact, safe. She held the dress up with a well placed hand pressing the fabric against her body.

"Can't fool you," she whispered with a tiny smile. "Never could. He sees it all…but he loves her anyways."

The hand holding him shifted, and she raised his hand mischievously upwards, and planted a kiss on it. Her thin lips were cool, but they burned the back of his hand. Jayne snatched it away, and held the offended hand to his chest, as though she had cut it. He started to back away.

"Gorramit girl, what you do that for?" River grinned. She began to advance, and he thought she was going to fling herself at him, or something crazed like that. But no, she stopped just inside the door frame.

"Never kiss 'em on the mouth," she told him in a conspiratorial whisper before tapping the panel that slid her door shut in a moment, removing her from view.