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, moments of her life, River attempts to assimilate her new and sometimes painful feelings for Jayne. - - Rayne, but will touch on other relationships. Post-BDM, of course.
Chapter 16: Killjoy Was Here
Oh, god. Ohgodohgod…River stared straight ahead, still stunned, her heart ricocheting around in her chest like a jackrabbit on amphetamines. Afraid to look at him, afraid that he was mocking her somehow, afraid that she'd had some sort of fit, afraid it wasn't real.
"…you like me 'cause I am a naughty man…"
She could still hear his words and that low chuckle rolling around in her consciousness, sending secondary thrills throughout every cell of her body. He really did say it…he said it, he's acknowledging the kiss, all those moments between us, he's not mocking me, he's …he's…flirting with me. River felt like she might faint, and wondered inanely if anyone had ever lost consciousness as a direct result of being flirted with by Jayne Cobb.
She had to look at him.
With painful anticipation, she peeked at him sideways through the curtain of her hair. He was staring down into his drink, snapping the rim of his cup with one blunt fingernail, a supremely bland and guiltless look on his face. For anyone who actually knew him, this was an immediate giveaway that he was up to some kind of fun-for-Jayne misbehavior.
Mal knew him. From his place at the curve of the oval of crates and boxes, the captain moved his narrow-eyed gaze from Jayne to River.
River honed in on Mal's thoughts: What's goin' on with those two? Looks like that stupid bull is windin' up my little witch over there. Great, Jayne, right when we need her sane and in the here and now. Wonder if she read anything useful off a any of these guys…
The captain got to his feet and ambled over to loom in front of them.
"Little one?" He asked quietly, folding his arms. "You doin' what you're supposed to do?"
River nodded quickly. There was a half-formed thought in the captain's mind that he'd better split them up like unruly schoolchildren, sending the class bully off to the corner, and she definitely did not want that to happen.
"Well?" He arched his eyebrows.
By his sudden stillness, River could tell Jayne was paying close attention, although he didn't turn his head.
"Nothing pertinent, Captain," she reported softly. "They were contacted by Badger, just as we were, offered the job, and accepted it gladly. They know he is a rich hotelier and manufacturer. Tasha and Monty believe the cargo will be minerals or mining equipment. Miles thinks it might be migrant workers hoping to avoid the Transitory Labor Tax since the Daland is equipped as a transport. Only Alexander is fully aware of Ungwele's clandestine activities. He believes we will be running guns or gems as cargo, but it's not his business to inquire. Bev is hungry."
Mal's mouth twitched a bit at that last.
"I'll get someone on it. Anything else goin' on that I should know about?" His eyes flicked over at Jayne, who was finding the far upper corner of the cargo bay extremely interesting.
"No," River assured him with a serene look.
Not really satisfied, Mal backed away without turning, still looking between the two of them with distrust. For some reason that moment on the balcony during that tussle with Spanky and gang had risen in his memory, and he was trying to figure on why. He knew it bothered him. He sat back down with a discontented frown.
"How 'bout that Reg?" Jayne asked out of the side of his mouth, as soon as Mal was out of earshot. "What's he thinkin'?"
River blushed and bit her lower lip to prevent her smile, aware that the captain was still vaguely suspicious of their behavior. "He thinks I'm very pretty," she whispered.
"Hey, Jayne," Mal called out suddenly, having decided to put a little distance between them anyway, just in case. "You wanna get that third bottle out? Looks like we're runnin' low."
"Yeah, Cap," Jayne responded loudly. Under the pretext of bending over to put his cup on the floor he leaned in close to her. "Gotta admit, Reg ain't blind," he muttered, and stood up, reversing over the crate with the easy agility that was always so unexpected in a man of his size.
Oh, Jayne. River's eyes followed him until he disappeared behind a stack of pallets. She closed her eyes tightly, savoring the sweetness of the moment. There had been a definite alteration in him…his acknowledgement of her feelings, and something of his, meant that their relationship, whatever it was or would be, had finally crossed some unknown barrier. Is this how it was, when two people were falling in… she hesitated, not knowing how Jayne would define it. Lust? Love? Was it always this teasing interplay, these feints and parries that lead to either trembling uncertainty or moments of pure bliss? River took a nervous, but exhilarated little breath.
She glanced at Kaylee, sitting on her other side, deep in conversation with Alexander, who had flown and serviced Fireflies before the war. River widened her range, looking and sensing around as offhandedly as possible to see if anyone was giving her any particular regard, especially the captain, but his attention had been claimed by Monty and Miles Waarf. Amazingly, no one was staring and pointing at her, although she felt so giddy she was sure sunbeams and sparkly things were shooting out of her pores.
Simon had noticed that she and Jayne appeared to be laughing together, and thought it was a little unusual, but not wholly unexpected in this sort of awkward party-like atmosphere where one might have the tendency to gravitate toward the familiar, even if the familiar was an unpleasant brute. He was relieved when Jayne left to get the alcohol, because that situation was distracting him and he was trying to think of a way to join Kaylee and Alexander's conversation without sounding too stupid or stilted. He was both bored by and a little envious of Alexander's mechanical knowledge, and although he was happy that Kaylee had finally found someone to talk to about the ship (god knows he couldn't, and really didn't want to), he was getting exasperated at being completely ignored by his own fiancée. Er – fiancée? Simon startled himself with the use of the term.
River's happiness overflowed to include Kaylee. It wouldn't be long now...
Tasha was just starting to get impatient. This catchin' up was fun and all, but her crew of three was waitin' to hear what all the fuss was about, and she was antsy to get back to her ship in case the call to move came in. She was a little surprised at Mal and Zoë – she didn't reckon they were usually such missish little wets. Job sounded simple enough to her.
Miles was telling the captain and Monty about his mother's little trading post on Edoras, one of the larger moons off Kyphon, and how a widespread drought had brought about tough times there recently, and the Alliance had promised aid that had never come. He was thinking that it was a long time since he'd seen his mother, and he was worried about her. Monty and Mal were thinking an almost identical thought: gorram Feds.
Bev was really thirsty, but just the smell of that stuff in that cup they'd handed him was makin' him feel kinda sick. He was wondering why they'd called this meetin', anyway. He'd really only come for the chance to play music with Jayne, and that was beginnin' to seem less and less likely.
River noted that Reg was a still little miffed at not being able to sit next to her, and a little annoyed at Jayne, and was pondering getting up and taking that seat right now just to spite 'im. He wondered if Jayne would make a stink over it, and whether or not it might come to blows. He thought about the size of Jayne's fists, and decided not to take the chance, glad he wasn't drunk enough yet to do something stupid. River laughed inwardly, delighted with Reg. He could take the seat, or not. Jayne had made his move, and there was no going back now.
River smiled uncontrollably, savoring the memory of the touch of his hand as he helped her to her feet upstairs, his teasing wink, his heart-stopping words, and his last, convoluted, oh-so-very-Jayne-like compliment. She waited excitedly for him to return.
She didn't notice immediately that Simon had given up trying to infiltrate the Firefly discussion, and had made the decision to move across and sit next to her. She gave him a discouragingly tepid smile, trying not to display her disappointment.
"Jayne was sitting there," she informed him.
"Yes, I saw. I thought you'd appreciate some civilized company," her brother whispered with a sympathetic smile.
I love you, Simon, she ruminated silently, but you're a clueless boob with an egregious sense of timing. She watched for Jayne out of the corner of her eye.
When he came back around the pallets he paused for a second and sized up the situation. He uncorked the jug of booze and plunked it down on the barrel that was pulling duty as a serving table. He sauntered around to the far side of the oval and skirted through the gap in the seats, taking the crate that Simon had vacated. He crossed his arms and sat back with an indifferent expression.
Simon was marveling at the sight of Jayne, Tasha, the Waarf brothers and Monty all sitting in a row.
"My god, I think we've been transported to Brobdingnag," he tittered under his breath, turning to her with a grin, expecting her to share his amusement at this witticism, comparing Jayne and the others to the race of giants encountered by Gulliver on his travels.
River watched with dismay as Jayne's expression hardened even further. She didn't need to read his mind to realize what he thought. He assumed that Simon had been put in place to force him to keep his distance. He suspected that they were sharing a laugh at his expense. River looked intently at him, her expression as pleading as she dared to make it. Please look at me, let me show you that I'm not happy, either… River hoped he might come and claim his drink, still sitting on the floor to the left of her foot, giving her a chance to make some private sign, to reassure him that she hadn't called Simon over, but he ignored it, and her.
It would have been better to have invited Reg sit there, she realized too late. Jayne would have understood that, and dispensed with him as a minor annoyance once again. But Simon…Simon represented something to Jayne…and that thing was the barrier that he'd allowed himself to cross for those few heady, wonderful minutes. River wished with selfish impatience for this meeting to be over, wished they would all just go away, and she wished desperately that she could get Jayne alone so that she could explain…
"River?" Simon prompted her gleefully, still anticipating an approving response.
"I've always found Swift's thinly veiled treatises on sexual repression unnecessarily hortative and tedious," she answered frigidly. Take that, Simon, you…you…killjoy.
"Uh, right," Simon blinked, unsure why his literary banter had fallen flat.
With the setting of the sun, a cool breeze whispered up the open ramp and into the cargo bay, stirring River's hair, sending a foreboding chill down her spine, and reminding her of the reason they were gathered here. Plunged from the heights of happiness into a sudden, jarring depression, she shrank into herself, twisting one tendril of hair with anxious fingers.
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A/N: Trust Simon, lol. Thanks for reading! Gem