A Might Unpredictable
Chapter Two
A Dress that Fits
By RingPrincess

River didn't have to look around to make sure no one was coming or in the room with her. She could tell where they were by their thoughts and feelings or the lack thereof in the general vicinity of the ship. The closest was Jayne, confused and shocked in the corridor but walking away. Simon was in the infirmary his thoughts firmly on Kaylee. River giggled. The rest of the ship was empty all other members of the crew somewhere on planet. The noise of which hummed in the back of her mind, so many conflicting thoughts and feelings she didn't ever bother to try and sort them out. Still, she tiptoed over to the bed, where the box sat at the angle she'd hastily put it before running after Jayne.

She reached out and shifted the tissue paper aside again. Jayne had said it perfectly. It wasn't something she would normally wear or even remotely have owned in her previous life. She ran her fingers across the fabric, ghosting, almost surprised when it didn't catch on her fingertips. The way she knew it had to have done when Jayne touched it with his big calloused hands. She snatched her hands back cradling them to her chest and admired how the light reflected off the silk. This was something Inara would wear, not River, not her. Yet Jayne had bought it for her, a dress made of silk, a dress not for a girl but for the woman he saw in his head when he saw her.

She stared at her, head to tilted to the side. The dress wasn't proper. Even still folded she could tell there wasn't enough fabric to make the type of dress she wore as a child. This wasn't a dress for a lady, a girl or a child. This was a dress for a woman. She tentatively reached out and lifted it by its delicate straps. Gathered at the bust, tapered to the hips where it flared in folds and folds of wispy ripples, dark blue. She dropped it into the box with a sigh of fabric and her fingers trembled as she reached behind and worked at the zipper of the dress she was currently wearing, tugging and wriggling. The cotton jumper fell to her feet and she didn't even bother to step out of it as she pulled the new dress over her head. She giggled with delight at the softness of the fabric against her skin.

She ran her hands down her body, stopping for a moment to cup her breasts with wide eyes as she realized the dress actually gave her cleavage. She glanced over her shoulder to try and see the back, which was a web of straps leaving her back mainly bare and because looking over her shoulder was difficult and threw her slightly off balance she twirled on her toes and began to spin about giggling. She halted and shoved the door open, running out the hall. She had to find Jayne and show him how his gift looked.

She reached out with her mind trying to sense his confused feelings from earlier but they were missing. She frowned. She couldn't sense him at all. It felt like he wasn't on the ship or anywhere near it. Which had to be wrong since he'd come back from town. Why would he head back out when they were leaving in two hours, thirty-six minutes and forty-eight seconds? A glance in the infirmary window proved that Simon and Kaylee were storing some new medical supplies. She sneaked past not wanting them to see the dress. Since they'd ask where she'd gotten it and that would lead to answers she didn't want to give.

The cargo bay was full of boxes but no Jayne. No dirty layer of jumbled ideas that if sorted out would scream 'big tough merc' to anybody with the time and the patience to read it and nothing deeper underneath. Grime thoughts over a wall. She darted up the steps and through the kitchen to the crew corridor. His emotions were usually blank to her unless they were really strong, like his nervousness and confusion from earlier or the deeply embedded guilt he'd had on Ariel, almost as if he knew what he was doing was wrong long before seeing her brain. Jayne's bunk was unlocked and she rapped on the door. When no answer was forthcoming she frowned and opened his bunk and climbed down the ladder. She reached for the light and flipped it on.

"Jayne?" She asked the empty space. Her eyes traveling over the walls covered in neatly racked weapons.

She gasped. There on proud display, gleaming in the dim light were the weapons she'd used when fighting the Reavers. The room was small enough that she could reach out and brush her fingertips over the blades of the machete and ax. River shook her head sharply and dropped her hand. Why had Jayne kept them? She didn't even remember setting them down after the Feds had relaxed their weapons. And with the way they'd been covered in blood he had taken a long time to clean them to make them look so pristine they glowed even in this dim light. River's eyes fluttered closed. She could feel them in her hands, a steadying weight. She could smell metal and meat. Her heart thundered against her rib cage and she licked her lips, warmth spreading through her. Involuntarily her hand went back out and grasped the hilt of the machete, lifting it from the brackets. River's muscles quivered and her eyes snapped opened for a few seconds dark and rich focused intently on the blade.

'Kill,' a portion of her brain whispered. Her eyes hooded. 'Kill them all. Red, blood, death, beat them, destroy, kill. Feast on their pain. Love their fear.'

It woke her from her trance and she gasped, dropping the blade. It clanged as it hit the floor and she jumped back to keep it from hitting her toes. She clasped her hands to her head. "No," she whimpered. "No, no." She rocked back forth on her toes. "No," she moaned. 'Girl not a killer.' She thought. 'Girl doesn't like it, doesn't like the way it makes her feel. Girl not killer.' Shaking she reached down and picked up the machete by two fingers and placed it back in the brackets and fled the cabin, switching off the lights and scampering up the ladder without looking back. She ran through the kitchen and almost stumbled down the stairs.

Once in the hall, Simon's voice made her halt in her tracks and she pressed against the wall trying to become invisible.

"She doesn't feel emotions like you and me Kaylee." Simon's voice drifted through the open infirmary door. "Well, she feels emotions, but I don't think she feels her own emotions. She's disconnected from them somehow to protect herself."

"Of course she feels," Kaylee scoffed. "She feels all the time. I thought that was part of what you were trying to cure."

Simon grimaced and shut the drawer he had been sorting syringes into carefully. He turned and leaned against the counter. "I'm not so sure." He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair leaving tracks. "I think that because she feels everybody else's emotions so often she's been cut off from her own. Our emotions fuel hers. And her inability to not feel others thoughts and feelings leaves her confused especially with the lot of us together in close quarters all at once. I'm not even sure how far her range is and if I asked I doubt she could tell me."

Kaylee frowned and came up to lean against him. "I thought the drugs and Miranda was helping."

"They are but they took parts of her brain away. I can't replace that with drugs. I also know they were giving her different drugs at the academy. The drugs I'm giving her could be reacting with the trace drugs in her system and aggravating the problem rather than fixing it. I just don't know anymore bei-bao."

"She loves you."

"Does she? How far did they get in their program? What exactly were they trying to do with her? How long will this good period last?"

"Simon." Kaylee murmured and grabbed his head between her hands. "You've got to stop beating yourself up like this."

Simon took a ragged breath.

River clutched her upper arms in her hands, hugging herself. Her eyes were wide and she edged along the wall. Every question made her flinch as if the words were fists carefully placed. Once she was close enough she dove for her room and slid the door shut behind her and huddled into the corner not even risking unclasping her arms to put them around her knees.

"Not mine," she muttered. "Not mine, not mine, not mine." She rocked back and forth as emotions assaulted no longer sure whose was whose or which was which. Should she fight them or let them stay, what was true and real and what was invasion. The buzz from the city became louder and River rocked harder. "Not mine, not mine, not mine."

--

Deep in the black night and day didn't matter. Radiations of stars that made up the center of solar systems were meaningless. Yet in ship time it was night. Everything was shut down and not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. River stifled a giggle as she crept from her bunk, only a river, flowing and a Jayne sitting.

River tiptoed towards him. She couldn't tell if he was thinking or not. She sat down next to him. "Wanted to show you the dress." She said.

Jayne jumped, cursed and looked at her. "Don't do that. Worse than a gorram cat."

"Will remember to ring bell." River smiled at him. "Wanted to show you dress, but got distracted. Sorry."

"I'll see it sometime." He ducked his head.

She shook her head. "Wanted to show. Wanted you to see. Felt regular. Felt like a girl was supposed to feel after getting a gift. Wanted to share. Now don't know if any of it was true. How can be a regular girl if I don't feel?"

Jayne leaned down. "Whatcha goin' on 'bout now?"

"Don't feel."

Jayne's eyebrow rose. "Not the way I sees it. Seems to be your nothing but emotion and a tiny bit of action."

"Not mine." River sighed and her shoulders hunched.

"Says who?"

"Simon."

"Well, the Doc's crazy, well not as crazy as you, but still crazy." Jayne crossed his arms. "I ain't smart like the twos of you, but if you can't feel emotions how could you feel anybody elses. Don't make a mite of sense."

River shook her head. "Feel only others and not own."

"If you never felt them, how do yous know what they is?" Jayne couldn't help but ask.

River shrugged.

"What are feelin's anyways?"

"Chemicals created as a reaction to being in certain situations."

"Chemicals," Jayne snorted. "Chemicals run amok. Feelin's don't make a wit of sense either. Feelin's have their own sense and we can't control it."

"Not true." River shook her head.

Jayne's eyes narrowed. "Lemme finish. We can control our reaction to it, but we can't control our brains and bodies from makin' these chemicals."

"Like in a fight," River shivered.

Jayne nodded. "As good example as any."

"You like fighting."

"What kinda statement is that. Course I like fightin', wouldn't do it if I didn't."

"Like the killin'."

"There's a certain satisfaction to it." Jayne shrugged.

"Does it make you feel happy?"

Jayne scowled.

"You ever feel happy?" River tilted her head. "Never feel happiness from Jayne. Feel anger, fear, guilt, but not happiness or pleasure. Does killing do that for you?"

"It don't make me happy."

"Then why?" River dug her fingernails into her palms.

Jayne noticed and grabbed her hands, prying the fingers up before she could cut herself. "Somebody's got to do it. I just happen to be good at it and if those who are good at it don't do the killin' those who are bad at it will and a lot more lives will be lost."

River stared at him, his hands engulfing hers. "Sounds noble."

He snorted. "Nothing noble about it, just facts. I work for money, don't much care where it comes from."

"Used to be true, not now."

He glanced into her eyes and looked back at her hands. "You readin' my mind."

"No." She whispered. 'Can't.' She thought.

"Cause it ain't a place for women like you." He continued as if she hadn't said the simple word.

"I kill too." She looked away. "Do you enjoy killing? Does it make you feel alive?" She paused. "Aroused?"

Jayne dropped her hands. "What's gotten into you?"

"Adrenaline rush, uncertainty of death, feeling of life, excess energy, relief of still living." She murmured. "Desire for other body and heat. Lust for battle, blood and body."

Jayne shifted his weight. He stared at the back of her head, palms sweating. He rubbed them on his pants.

She looked back at him. "Feel that. What type of woman am I? Enjoy danger, thrill of testing limits of body and luck, like feel of flesh giving away to and from greater force, desire others afterwards, then regret."

Jayne swallowed, unsure of what to say. In her strange way she had put forth everything he felt about fighting and the feelings that came with it. "Dangerous," he croaked from a dry mouth.

"Not evil?"

"Evil's a lot of things and I'm not a preacher to be versed in evil, but what little I know of it, you ain't anywhere near close to bein' evil. Everyone's got a dark side. Guess this is yours. Gorramit, 'tis mine." He shook his head. "Just gotta accept it. That's all. If you don't, eatcha up inside 'til there's nothing left to question it. Ain't bad as dark sides go."

River sat still for a few more minutes and slid off the box. "Show you the dress later." She said over her shoulder as she headed back to her room.

Jayne stared after her. What kind of end was that to a conversation? He froze. He and Crazy had just had a conversation. A real conversation and he hadn't questioned it until after it'd happened, crazy, absolutely crazy.

--