A/N This is a companion piece to my one-shot "Dancing with Death", told from Jayne's POV.

Dancing on Air

River was dancin' again.

It was both Jayne's most favouritest thing in the world and his most hated.

When River danced, she glowed with such beauty Jayne couldn't take his eyes off her. When River danced, it reminded him just how far outta reach she was.

Too pure, too young, too shiny for a grubby merc with years of hard livin' behind him and no house nor hold nor way to give her the Core livin' she was used to, that she deserved.

When River danced, she soared like a bird. Totally free.

Jayne was clumsy by comparison – too big, too graceless, 'less it was in a fight. River was twistin' quicksilver in body and mind. Where she soared, Jayne plodded.

The last thing she deserved was to be down in the dirt with him; the last thing she deserved was him.

When River danced, it made Jayne's spirit soar… then crash.

Mouth twisting, Jayne turned away from the scene unfolding below where River danced alone.

When he felt a light touch on his shoulder, he twisted like lightning, hand sweeping for a weapon that wasn't there.

To his surprise, it was River that met his gaze, eyes deep, serious pools he could happily fall in… Jerking himself back (Gorramit, this always happened when he looked into her eyes for too long), Jayne tried to make his voice rough. Something that had grown harder and harder since Miranda, since she'd saved 'em all, since he'd seen her dance a whole different way…

"You shouldn't of snuck up on me like that, Crazy," he growled. He found it was safer to call her by nicknames – the name "River" had a tendency to fall too soft from his lips, too tellin'.

River's head was tilted consideringly, a small smile hovering round her mouth. "The girl is tired of waiting. The girl must help the boy to see. Inequal partners in crime is not greater than perfect partners in dance. The sum of this formula is love." Grabbing hold of his arm, she started towing him down the stairway down to the cargo bay floor.

Jayne didn't resist, but his brows snapped together. He'd gotten a lot better at decipherin' River-speak since Miranda. "What boy?" he growled, with no need to try at sounding rough this time. "You gone and got yerself mixed up with some hún dàn Rim crim?

River rolled her eyes. A look of concentration came over face. "I will help you see. Clap your hands, Jayne."

"What?"

River's face progressed to her best "You're such a boob" look. "Clap your hands, Jayne," she repeated. "Hold the beat."

Feelin' a bèn dàn, but unable to resist River's request, Jayne self-consciously began to clap, slow and steady.

River turned and fluidly extended a leg, her red dress fell back, revealing the perfect lines of her muscles. Their slender, shiny beauty. Jayne swallowed. River's leg touched the deck; she used it to pivot round, unfurling an arm with such grace it made him ache.

This was torture. Sweet torture.

Somehow, Jayne retained the beat and watched as River flowed round the cargo bay, heart-beat beginning to quicken. He noticed River's dance was changing, speeding up, faster than the beat but somehow perfectly in time. Jayne realised he was holding his breath.

Just when he thought he couldn't watch any longer without doin' somethin' crazy like seizin' her and pullin' her close, River abruptly changed direction.

Whirling in perfect, controlled circles, she flew across the room until she was standing right in front of him, staring into his eyes.

"The girl needs the boy's beat to dance," she declared. "The girl needs the boy." She weren't even remotely outta breath, a small part of him marvelled, before it was hijacked by the rest of his brain exploding with questions as River's words sunk in.

"But you dance all the time without me clappin'," Jayne objected.

River's smile was tender. To his total shock, she touched his chest and slid her hand till it was positioned over his heart.

"This is my beat; this is my rhythm. The girl cannot be free without the steady beat. The girl can only dance because of the boy. Their dance is perfect."

Jayne stared at her, slack-jawed. She couldn't mean what he thought she did, could she? He musta got it wrong.

River's hand slid from his heart until it curved round his neck. She went up on her tiptoes so that her words whispered over his lips, makin' 'em tingle.

"Dance with me, Jayne." She pressed her lips to his, so brief and sweet. "Dance with me."

Head whirling, heart pounding, Jayne closed his eyes and lowered his head, following River's lead.

River was right. Their dance was perfect.

Glossary:

bèn dàn - dumbass

hún dàn - bastard