Disclaimer: The wonderful characters and the good ship Serenity all belong to Joss Whedon, or Mutant Enemy, or Fox, or whoever actually owns them, and that person or entity is definitely not me. Written for amusement purposes only. No copyright infringement intended or implied.
Rating: T, with rough language warning. May go up for later chapters.
Summary: Eight months after Miranda, the crew of Serenity still struggles to adapt to the "new normal." Constructing, and deconstructing, elements of her life, River attempts to assimilate her new and sometimes painful feelings for Jayne. - - Rayne, but will touch on other pairings. Post-BDM, of course
Chapter Five: Burnt
"A spittoon," the captain wheezed, holding his sides in an attempt to contain the painful spasms of laughter. "A spittoon. You K.O.'d our friend Wes with a gorram spittoon."
He and Jayne were both laughing so hard they were crying.
"Did you know when you threw it? Did you know it was a sp-spittoon?" Mal gasped when he could.
"Knew what it was; didn't know it was full." Jayne choked out, and that set them both off again.
Behind the controls in the front seat of the mule, River adjusted her goggles against the bracing wind, smiling secretly to herself. The two men had been sprawled out in the rear seat, chortling about the spittoon, for a good five minutes. It was after the stomach-wrenching plunge off the balcony, and the tense ride through the outskirts of town, when Mal, finally satisfied that they were in the clear, turned to Jayne and squawked, "What in the sphincter a hell was that crap you spewed all over Spanky?"
She shivered happily and let the men's euphoria wash through her, leaving a warm calm in its wake. How long has it been, she wondered, since she'd heard either of them laugh like that? Felt that unbridled brio? Certainly it was before Miranda…
She'd already been on her way to the rendezvous when she'd felt the captain's tension jolt upwards, and she'd gotten flashes of the outside of the saloon, the Unification Day bunting, the drunken argument, and his dry amusement at Jayne's being so – Jayne. She was used to reading the captain, as complex as he was, and his thoughts flowed to her easily, even from a distance, when she really concentrated on him. But it was the other thing she'd felt, that white hot flare from Jayne, that had pushed her to accelerate until the mule bucked under the strain. His ferocity had run through her veins like fire, challenging her to maintain her physical and mental equilibrium, because his excitement triggered a wildly intense response of her own. When she'd leapt out of the mule on that balcony it was Jayne that had posed the greatest hindrance to their rescue, because it had taken everything she had to keep her eyes off of him and on the potential threat.
Perhaps it was the rarity of feeling anything from the big mercenary that had made this blast of emotion so provocative. Ever since the events of the Miranda wave, Jayne had become River's greatest puzzle. At first, the survivors had been muted, drained, bodily and psychologically damaged. To the battered crew it seemed only Kaylee and Simon, and the shy flowering of their love, had provided a glimpse of a future untainted by grief. Gradually, inevitably, the atmosphere had eased. Kaylee had mentioned Shepherd Book and the strawberries that he'd bartered for his first passage on Serenity, and they'd all smiled at the memory. Inara had debated whether to wear her hair up or down, without wondering drearily why it even mattered. The captain had walked onto the bridge without thinking immediately of Wash. Zoë had ultimately shared the secret she'd held to her heart as her final intimacy with her beloved husband. Guilt, sadness and remorse still welled up at various times, but they were healing. Only Jayne had remained a blank, moving through the ship like an emotionless cipher, closed off from River.
He worked and ate and drank and insulted and squabbled and exercised. He cleaned his guns and sharpened his knives and picked out tunes on his guitar. He went on jobs with Mal and Zoë, and then Mal and River. He did what a Jayne Cobb was supposed to do, but whenever River reached out to probe at his presence, it was as if there were only a Jayne-shaped hole in the fabric of Serenity, like one of those shadow silhouettes that she'd cut out of black paper as a child. For some reason the tussle at the saloon had ripped at him, and River was intrigued by what other feelings might be lurking behind that inky façade.
She continued to listen contentedly as the men went on with the brawl postmortem, exchanging experiences and techniques and still enjoying themselves immensely. They were only a few minutes away from Serenity, and River radioed the ship to let Zoë know they were coming in. Immediately she felt something wink out a little bit in the captain.
They approached the firefly, crouched amongst the scrub and partially obscured by some small hillocks. River saw the cargo bay ramp folding down and felt a rush of gladness for home.
As she slowed in order to maneuver the mule inside the narrow passage, she saw Zoë standing off to the side, one hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the setting sun, the other resting naturally on the prominent swell of her abdomen.
It won't be long, now, before we are eight again, River thought.
Zoë hadn't told anyone about her pregnancy until she was almost five months along and not even the most elegant or conditioned figure under the most flattering of clothes could hide the telltale bump. River had known, and she suspected that Simon had also known, but Zoë had never indicated that she wished to discuss it or inform the others, so River had kept her silence.
Zoë's announcement had been greeted with a stunned, but enthusiastic response. Zoë was fawned over and cosseted like the most delicate china by the crew. Simon monitored her daily, Kaylee hovered over her as if Zoë had become an invalid, and Inara was always there with pillows and herbal teas and creams for the skin and joint pain salves. Jayne, of course, upon hearing the news that Zoë was expecting, had snorted, "That's gonna be the queerest lookin' xiao gou in the 'verse," and Kaylee had hit him. But River saw him fetching things for Zoë so she wouldn't have to climb the stairs, and had once caught him whittling some chubby farm animals out of scrap wood. Zoë submitted to all of this attention with somewhat pained bemusement. It was affirmation from Mal that she needed, and it was Mal's response that had been subdued and ambiguous.
River gave Zoë a little wave as she rumbled by and negotiated the mule to the staging area, where Kaylee could take a look at the minor damage caused by their recent adventure, and where Jayne would eventually stow it high above their heads when Serenity was ready to launch. River braked and began shutting down all the systems.
"When did Unification Day get so ruttin' fun?" Jayne demanded with cheerful rhetoric as he sprang down from the rear seat, Vera banging against the back of his shoulder. He hadn't sensed Mal's slight withdrawal, and he was riding high from the fight and bonhomie on the way back to Serenity.
"You been in plenty a uni-day scuffles before, Jayne." Mal huffed slightly as he lifted the sack with the payout from where he'd tossed it on the floor of the back seat. He'd gotten quieter and quieter the closer they had gotten to Serenity. River had felt his guilt rising. He was angry at himself for laughing, for daring to enjoy that bar brawl. He was afraid of what Zoë was going to think about it, that it would prod her sorrow and loss to the surface again. He was a little angry at her pregnancy prohibiting her from being there, and even angrier that she wouldn't be at his side for the foreseeable future. Ever, maybe. He felt guilty about being angry about that, too.
"Never cared overmuch, though. Just got dragged into it, like." Jayne shrugged.
"Maybe 'cause you got a grudge against the Alliance now, real and true," Mal said impatiently, a sudden dark edge to his voice. He jumped off the mule, and headed for the hidden vault in one of the smuggling compartments. They'd divvy up after supper.
"Aw, Mal." Jayne rolled his eyes at the captain's unexpectedly waspish turn, still practically bouncing on the balls of his feet from the adrenaline and endorphin rush.
River slid sideways, preparing to slip out from behind the controls of the vehicle, when she glanced down at the big mercenary and was caught unprepared. He was looking up at her, strong, brash and brimming with life. The vitality of his aura was almost too much to bear. She felt scorched, swept away from her body and from her mind…before she could gather her wits, he reached up impulsively and grabbed her under the arms. His hands spanned her rib cage as he swung her clear of the mule and dangled her before him, no apparent effort necessary.
River caught her breath at the sensation of his large fingers following the curve of her slight bones, his thumbs only inches under the rise of her breasts, imprinting against her skin. She knew she should react in an aggrieved manner at the indignity of being manhandled this way, but in reality it made her feel deliciously fragile and feminine in contrast to his rough masculinity. Her hands lifted automatically to rest on his shoulders but she stopped herself, a little afraid of touching him. She wondered if he recalled what had happened the last time he had held her in his arms.
Full of good humor, he studied her face, half-obscured by the ridiculously large, round plastic goggles, before he set her down lightly on her feet. They were standing so close together she could feel the heat pouring off his big body. River took an unsteady breath and gazed up him in wonder.
"That was some fancible driving, owlet." He plucked the middle strap of the goggles away from the bridge of her nose and snapped them up against her forehead, causing a slight sting.
"Swallow any bugs?" He grinned down at her, his teeth white and strong in his hard, handsome face, and winked one sky blue eye as he turned away.
River's pulse gave a tremendous surge, and she felt a sudden painful knot form in the vicinity of her chest. She put a tentative hand to her heart as her eyes followed his muscular form. She felt oddly warm and breathless.
"I'm hongry!" he bellowed, taking a new cigar from his the pocket of his vest. He rolled it between his fingers as he loped around the corner and up the stairs toward the dining room. "Whose turn is it cookin' tonight?"
"Simon's!" Kaylee's shout came faintly from the engine room.
"Aw, hell…" Jayne's heartfelt whine floated back through the passage.
Moving her head back and forth with a slightly exasperated sigh, Zoë came up to the younger girl, who was still staring after Jayne, one palm pressed against her chest.
"Somethin' wrong, little one?" the first mate asked in sudden concern, her half-smile diminishing. She stepped to River's side even as she cupped her hands around her distended stomach in an instinctive, protective gesture.
"Jayne –" River began impulsively.
"What did Jayne do?" Zoë cut in, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she automatically assumed the worst. Even a pregnant Zoë was an intimidating Zoë.
River shook her head a little to clear it. Jayne – what? Held me. Complimented me. Winked at me. Smiled at me for the first time with neither sarcasm nor malice. Radiated life and warmth and energy at me like the sun.
"Covered the enemy with saliva," she blurted out.
Zoë had to process that for a second, and then laughed dryly as she continued towards her destination: the infirmary for her daily check-up.
"Sounds like our Jayne. Can't wait to hear that story, sir." She paused by the captain as he clicked the concealing panel into place. "We get paid?"
Mal smiled a little uncomfortably at her waddling gait, so different from her usual lethal grace. "Got paid, busted up the joint, flying spit, flying mules…it was a sunny day." He flicked an assessing look at her, waiting for her reaction. When he saw only vague amusement, he relaxed and asked if Kaylee had gotten any farther along on those hull repairs.
River only half-listened to their talk as they drifted farther away. She stared forlornly at the passage where Jayne disappeared. When he'd left the room everything had seemed to darken. Her hand was still limply covering that patch of skin between her breasts, and she wondered what on earth this hot, empty, achy feeling was. It almost felt as if some vital part of her heart was... missing.
&&&&
Chinese: xiao gou - puppy
A/N: Yay for Rayne! Yay for Wash/Zoë babyfics! Wash is too awesome…when so many Darwin Award winners get to pass on their genetic material and he's shut out…I had to right that wrong. Thanks for reading, and reviewing! Gem