A/N Hey chaps and chapettes. Been a while!
Somewhere along the way I made it to over 300 reviews! Whoop whoop! Thank you so much! Shout-outs need to go out to Dr Giggles for her multiple amazing reviews and rainy . storybrooke who shared this story on Instagram.
Also want to shout-out to my long-term readers. Hope you're still with me, and hope you enjoy this installation :)
All Mandarin translations can be found at the bottom of the fic.
The Fledgling
It was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
Perfectly pink, smelling like heaven and glistening with the sweetest of glazes.
Been a long time since he'd wrapped his lips round something so tasty.
"Don't even think about it, Jayne." Mal's voice was low but anything but soft.
Jayne raised his brows and tried to look confused. "Huh? Sorry, Cap'n?"
"Just once I would like to leave a planet without some kind of law enforcement or pitchfork-carrying yokels on our tail. You ain't snatchin' that ham, Jayne!"
Jayne pouted.
They'd been living off protein for weeks, and even before that the last proper meat he'd eaten had been a stringy piece of something claiming to be chicken, bought from a stand at Eavesdown.
New Melbourne was famous for its food, practically bursting at the seams with the stuff, so much so they were offering the primest bit of pig he'd ever seen as a damn prize. In a dance competition no less.
Gorram fools deserved to lose it.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Jayne replied innocently.
Mal was particularly anxious this trip go smooth. Just 'cos his old war buddy lived in these parts, suddenly he'd come over all moral. No heists allowed.
Mal glared at him precise as a laser rifle. Then his face softened into a smile – always a dangerous sign – and he batted his lashes. "Let me put it this way. Either you or the ham comes on board Serenity. If I find more than one on there, one of you's gonna be making its way back dirt-side lickety-split. And I ain't one to waste a pig."
Jayne's neck twinged, recalling the icy blast of the Black. He glowered. "You know, it reaches a time where a threat loses it salt – you can't threaten the airlock for ruttin' everythin'!"
Mal appeared to consider this. "True. But I don't think we've reached that time yet…" Then he smirked. "Tell you what, Jayne, never let it be said I ain't a reasonable man – you can bring the ham on board-" Jayne side-eyed him warily, waiting. "If you win it fair and square."
Fair and squ…? Oh. Oh. Ruttin' Captain.
Always at his worst when he thought he was bein' funny….
At this point Zoë appeared, leading an older man who was more pepper than salt towards them. Her posture was even more erect than usual – Corporal mode fully engaged – so it didn't take a fēng le genius to figure out this was the Browncoat ally Mal had dragged 'em to this boring-ass planet to see.
"Sir." She nodded at Mal, hands clasped behind her back.
He nodded curtly back and straightened his shoulders, facing the new fella.
He was shorter than Mal and stocky rather than broad, with the weather-beaten complexion of a man who worked outdoors. But that deep bronze colour didn't just come from a tan and the parts of his beard that hadn't turned grey were black as charcoal.
There was a moment where one just stared at the other, sizing each other up like strange cats.
Jayne's biceps tensed, suddenly wondering where this was going.
But then they broke into laughter and pulled each other into a hug.
Jayne pouted again, mildly disappointed. A nice little ruck woulda helped ease his boredom.
The older man's Stetson had fallen off during their embrace, and Mal's eyes went to his thinning hair.
"Kasban, you look like you lost a little weight... all of it up top."
Kasban retrieved his hat and bared his teeth in a grin.
"Reynolds – glad to see your beard finally came in." He poked a finger at Mal's stubbled jaw. "Musta been a relief when puberty finally bit the bullet."
Then they both howled with laughter like they were the funniest hún dàn in the Verse.
They really weren't.
They got themselves under control and Mal clapped a friendly hand on Kasban's shoulder.
"What say two old captains and a corporal go get a drink? You can tell us all about how you turned turnip farmer."
Kasban's eyes gleamed. "Sounds good to me. There's a decent bar two streets over. And I'll have you know it ain't just turnips – got all manner of root vegetables growing in them fields."
Jayne brightened. Finally a suggestion he could get behind. He stepped forward to join them.
"Not you." Mal's arm came out like an iron bar. "You stay here and keep an eye on Kaylee and the Tams."
Jayne's mouth fell open in outrage. "Mal...!" His gaze went to the haberdashery stall where Kaylee was rooting for ribbons and Simon was patiently waiting with a long-suffering expression. River was closer by, watching the crowd of villagers with the abstracted expression she wore when she was surrounded by auras. "I ain't no babysitter!"
"Good. 'Cos the Tams ain't no babies," Mal replied cheerfully. "Babies are less likely to fall into trouble. Hence you're gonna stay here and make sure they don't."
Jayne glared at Mal but allowed them to walk away without further protest. For two reasons. Firstly, Mal was the most stubborn mule from here to the Core, and secondly, a small, unmanly part he would never admit to was secretly pleased that Mal had entrusted them to him.
Time was that would have been an impossibility. But looked like Ariel even faded with time.
That didn't mean Jayne planned to obey his orders to the letter, of course. He weren't no army brat.
He turned his attention back to the fête's star prize and wistfully sniffed the air again.
Truth was, Jayne had enough coin in his pocket to buy the ham, or something much like it, but he'd been saving his credits for a nice sub-compact Ruger.
For a moment he considered Mal's suggestion then he snorted internally.
Dancin'. Yeah, right.
Sure he'd learnt to a point back home, when he was about a foot shorter and a half-ton lighter – dancin' had been one of the few pastimes that came free and pretty much the only one involvin' girls that Radiant Cobb wouldn't tan her son for doin'.
Everyone danced back home. But much like kissing, he hadn't danced in years. These days he'd look like a dancing bear, only less pretty… ain't no way he'd win. You needed to be airy, graceful… shiny….
His gaze fell on the Moonbrain, standing nearby; something other than the villagers had claimed her attention.
She was touching a cage full of birds with brows drawn tight.
It was Jayne's turn to smile. And, as the crew of Serenity knew, Jayne's smiles meant at least as much trouble as Mal's did.
The birds were singing.
This was a normal state of affairs for birds. But to River's mind, they sounded mournful.
You might think this was one of her Crazy Times as Jayne liked to call them, but she felt quite rational. And this particular sentiment pre-dated the Academy.
River had never liked caged birds. To stop a bird from flying was… wrong. Bone-deep, intrinsically wrong. Like... gassing an entire planet to make them kind.
If you took away their choice to fly, what were they left with?
"Hello, Moonbrain." A voice rumbled at her ear. The words were pejorative but the tone wasn't; it hadn't been since Miranda. Maybe even before.
She didn't jump or spin round. His presence was expected.
Jayne was one of the few people skilled enough to sneak up on her but his affinity with stealth was counterbalanced by the distinctiveness of his psyche.
Bold and bright and brash, it was an intermittent shield for what lay beneath.
She could sense Jayne from a mile away.
Something which never failed to pique him.
But he appeared unbothered today, had an almost sweet air about him.
That alone told her something of what was coming.
"Jelly-Brain, you like ta dance, right?"
She nodded slowly, curious to see how this played out.
"How'd'you like ta dance in a little contest with me and win a tasty ham? I'll let you have-" pain flickered across his face, speckling his aura "a slice of it."
Her eyes flicked over to the dance floor, to where the band was setting up, to the couples beginning to gather. Her eyes flicked back.
"You may keep your ham, if you do something for me in return," she replied.
"Somethin' for you?" he asked warily.
"Yes," she said calmly. "A trade. I will dance with you but in return you have to set me free."
She grimaced to herself. She had not intended the words to emerge as a personification, a sure sign her emotions were engaged. But that only made her more determined to see this through.
Jayne took an abrupt step back, vaguely horrified. "What kind of fancy-ass metaphor is that, Moonbrain? I ain't putting you out your misery nor helpin' you run away neither!"
Amusement took her by surprise, a not uncommon phenomenon around Jayne. "This me," she clarified, tapping the bars of the cage.
He rolled an eye over it speculatively. "You want me to free the birds?" She nodded. "Why can't you do it yourself? Took out a whole peck of Reavers and hid from Early for nigh on a day – you're surely sneaky enough to set 'em free without being seen if'n you want to." His words were reasonable, his tone was peeved.
She shook her head and pointed over her shoulder, to where her Brother Hen stood watching, all but clucking.
"What? The Priss?" Jayne double took. "Why's he watchin' you so close?"
"There is precedent," she acknowledged, wryly smiling. "Mother and Father took us to the Aviary when I was five… I took exception to it. The keepers were not best pleased to lose their collection. There was a life-long ban."
Jayne grinned. "Crazy Moonbrain." This time it sounded almost affectionate. Then he shrugged, unconcerned as always by the notion of petty crime. "Fine. You dance with me, I'll set them free. But only if we win."
River considered this. "That is not a fair trade. I cannot control your skill at dancing – if you are the reason we lose it is not fair to hold me responsible for it and renege upon our bargain."
Jayne looked mildly offended. "Hey, I ain't half bad!" he objected.
"Half good may not be good enough to win," River pointed out.
Jayne considered this for a moment and an errant thought slipped free.
Doubt any of this rabble can dance anywhere near as fine as Moonbrain – if I ain't good enough, she'll make up for it-why she suddenly grinnin' at me like a loon?
She rearranged her face so that her pleasure didn't show. "So we are agreed?"
Jayne looked over at the ham; his nostrils twitched. "Agreed."
They stepped away from the cage and River was pleased to see Simon relax, his attention returning to Kaylee.
Jayne and she walked over to the bandstand and formed a set with half a dozen other couples.
The fiddlers struck a note, and the men stepped forward.
Teasing aside, years of experience had taught her how graceful Jayne could be in battle, so she was prepared for him to be an adequate dancer, even good.
What she hadn't been prepared for was how it felt when he took her in his arms.
They fell into a rhythm like an easy canter. Smooth, fluid, effortless.
He couldn't believe how well she fit in his arms, couldn't recall any female fitting so well.
'Cept maybe Lissie… The comparison rose up unbidden. She wasn't much like River; she'd been closer to blonde than brown and blue-eyed to boot. True they were both slight, but River's slightness came more from long-limbed slenderness; Lissie had been a tiny fragile doll.
'Course Jayne hadn't been as tall then, nor as broad, so she'd fit well enough. Truth to tell he'd liked her so damn much could have been dancing with a foot stool for all he cared.
Only real similarity between River and Lissie was their mouths. Full and pink. Like rosebuds.
Even when the rest of her had withered almost clean away, Lissie's mouth had still been plump.
For a second, River almost stumbled, then she caught herself.
He leaned back to look at her, wandering if she'd gone diān dǎo on him. She resolutely stared in the other direction, small white teeth biting down on her lip, hard enough to hurt.
"Y'alright, Moonbrain?" Jayne asked. "You wanna stop?" He wanted that damn ham but not so much he was willin' to dance with death to get it. 'Sides, been a long time since River had had a Crazy Time, and he didn't wanna be the one responsible for bringing one on.
She met his gaze, and her brown eyes seemed to blaze. But not with anger.
By contrast her voice was soft. "I'm fine. Keep going. We're going to win."
Wondering at her sudden resolution, Jayne obediently went to twirl her and immediately felt the difference. She moved like sunshine on water, so smooth and fast, you thought she'd always been there. Warm, bright and just as dazzling.
She was… she was somethin' else.
A totally different beauty from Lissie… but just as shiny.
Dancin' with River was like coming home.
She beamed at him then, a smile so joy-filled it made him falter.
His gaze locked on hers in sudden startled understanding.
She was Reading him.
The realisation should have sent him running. It always had in the past.
Jayne's thoughts, however little others might think of 'em, were his own. His to share or keep as he saw fit.
He'd never liked the idea of someone rifling through them without his say-so.
But River's eyes were deep and knowin' in a way that was comfort rather than intrusion.
She knew everything he felt towards home, the pull to be there, the reasons he never went, without him even having to explain it.
Now, weren't that shiny?
She turned his shocked stillness into part of the dance, twirling back into his arms so her mouth was at his ear.
"Cages are sometimes of our own making," she whispered. "Not all stories end the same. Not all kisses end in heartache. If we do not choose to fly, we remain in the cage. Even when the door is open." She tilted her head back, eyes warm but solemn.
Oddly enough, he thought he might actually know what she was talking about, but far more importantly in this moment, her lips sure were pretty while she did it...
Pink, perfect petals...
But as Jayne leant in, he wasn't thinking of Lissie. He was thinking of the brown-eyed girl in his arms, who moved like her namesake.
It was River who drew her head back before he could reach her, her voice a soft warning. "Caged birds are watched," she reminded him.
He blinked, realising he'd come within an inch of smoochin' the Doc's little sister and Captain's pet in the middle of the gorram town hall.
A wild sweep of the room was enough to reassure him their interlude had gone unnoticed.
For one thing there was no gun fire.
He quickly shoved her away before he could do anything else stupid but then regretted it as hurt washed through her face.
River left the floor with their dance unfinished.
Apparently, it made no odds.
They handed Jayne the ham.
But it didn't smell so good anymore.
The ship broke atmo. River finished plotting the coordinates and set it to cruise. She patted the dash, seeking to soothe, though she was feeling pretty ragged herself. If boats could have expressions, River would have described Serenity's as reproachful.
The ship often reflected its Captain so it came as no surprise when Mal's angry shouts echoed up from the cargo bay.
"What the hell, Jayne!"
River considered hanging back but she could sense the others converging on the bay and curiosity got the better of her.
"All I wanted… all I wanted was for it to go smooth." Mal was muttering; his aura was pained.
"Now, now, Mal." Jayne's voice grew louder as she drew nearer. "You ain't got no call to complain. I won the ham fair and square, just as you said I should." Jayne was smiling beatifically; he had a 1st place ribbon pinned to his shirt.
"The ham I can cope with, the pound of guano currently coating my ship's cargo bay, on the other hand, is a ruttin'. Huge. Problem!"
River rounded the corner fully and stopped dead in astonishment at the sight of a dozen brightly-coloured birds flitting from corner to corner, singing their hearts out.
The other crew members were looking varying stages of amused. Kaylee had covered her mouth, half-entranced, half-laughing; even Zoë had cracked a smile.
Jayne rubbed the back of his head, looking slightly sheepish. "I guess flyin' makes 'em nervous... which is kinda funny, considerin' they're birds."
"Jayne!" Mal's tone was close to a bark. "You give me one good reason why I shouldn't boot your pì gu straight into that airlock!"
"Now hold on a second!" Jayne was looking slightly panicked, "I didn't break the rules! I didn't snatch the birds – I bought 'em. Figured we could release 'em next time we touch down..."
"You bought them?" Mal queried, looking disbelieving. "Why in the hell would you do that?"
Jayne swallowed but then he looked up and spoke clearly and deliberately. "I bought them for River." He turned to face Simon, gulping back his panic. "That's what you do when you're serious 'bout courtin', right? Buy gifts?"
When River flew to his side his first semi-grateful thought was that she was providing a human shield as Simon and Mal went totally, bat-shit, frog-humpin' crazy.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on which part of his body he was listening to, River didn't stop at his side.
She flung her arms round his neck and glued her lips to his.
Sighing a little at his love's sense of timing, he figured since he was likely shortly goin' out the airlock he might as well make the best of the time he had left.
So he pulled her tight against him and kissed her back with everything he'd got.
"Fly with me, Jayne," she murmured, heart hammering against his chest.
"Deal," he murmured back, and deepened the kiss.
fin
Glossary:
diān dǎo – deranged
fēng le – crazy, insane
hún dàn – bastards
pì gu – ass