Fandom: Firefly
Series title: Roses
Part title: Half Time Show
Character/Pairing: River/Jayne, Pre-Rayne (Rayne intended but not guaranteed)
Rating: PG if that
Word count: 3102
Disclaimer: Don't own nuthin', ain't got nuthin', suin' pointless
Warnings: None as such but please see notes.

Author's notes: This fic has been on hiatus due to real life and I needed to figure out where the heck it was going. I intend this to end up Rayne and I have a plot arc in mind but I cannot guarantee it. This will go where it wants to go. As a result, I will not post any further parts on Rayne Shippers until I know one way or the other. This episode and more than likely the next one will be low on Rayney interaction and heavy on sorting out the fall out of Zoë leaving.

That said big hugs for those who are still with me and in particular, for Ceslas who is not only the magic beta lady but a source of great encouragement.

"Yes Kaylee?"

"River n' Jayne's back but she's not makin' any sense, seems she's a mite upset n' Jayne just grunted sumthin' an' went to his bunk. There ain't a sign of the Captain, or Zoë," Kaylee's voice rose, becoming a little panicky, "or Simon."

Inara tapped a finger to her lips a moment.

"I will speak to River; no doubt she knows where everyone is. Just check the Cortex and make sure no one has got themselves arrested or in the hospital." She frowned, "I wonder what has upset River?" she said, more to herself, though she had a nasty suspicion.

"'Nara," Kaylee's voice was small. "Reckon I might know sumthin' about that."

"River?" Inara looked at the girl, cross-legged in the pilot's chair, her eyes shut, her breath slow and even, controlled, deep in a relaxation technique that Inara had taught her. Inara took a seat in the co-pilot's chair and waited patiently.

Eventually River's eyes fluttered open.

"Trudie gave him directions, Kaylee pointed the way, still got lost, took the short cut, the journey was vital to the destination, missed something important."

"You are talking about Jayne." Responded Inara calmly, River seemed serene, but her phrasing made her distress evident.

River gave her a distant look, "Yes, cannot be blamed, just was true to himself as he is as I was to myself as I am."

Inara's eyes flickered up and down River's body, "But no harm done?"

River's mouth quirked up at the corner, understanding that Inara wanted confirmation of what her eyes could see. "Only minor inappropriate sexual conduct, Jayne has sought privacy to relieve his feelings but finds himself too uncomfortable. Have been in his head too much today, finding it hard to break contact." Her mouth quirked again, "It's such a mess in there, wish I could help him tidy up."

"But you are okay and Jayne isn't angry?"

River snorted, glumly "Jayne is angry, can't let it out, Ma won't let him, makes him confused and uncomfortable. I made a messy colourful Jayne, I wish the neat, monochrome would come back, wish he could be sure again."

"Yes, but are you okay?" Inara asked, pointedly, a shade of her impatience flickering across River's mind. She didn't really care about Jayne. River tried not to resent her for it.

"No, not okay, but functional and accepting of what is."

Inara continued to look at her for a few seconds, seemingly satisfied with what she saw she finally looked away. "Do you know where Zoë, Mal and Simon are?"

River trembled slightly, hauling in a deep breath to calm the flutter of misery that threatened to expand and overwhelm her.

"Simon is nearly home, only his pride hurt. Should try looking after himself instead of worrying about me." Inara's lips twitched at that.

River gulped, it was hard to give voice to, baldly put, what she had to say seemed to be of minor significance; a cause for sorrow but not misery. "Zoë is leaving."

Inara stared at her a moment, blank incomprehension widening her eyes until River's words went home. However, River was certain that Inara might be the only other person who might have and inkling of what this might mean to Mal. "River," she swallowed, "where is he?"

"Drowning sensation in a bottle."

Mal had found a bar, didn't know where it was and what it was called but he had a bottle of something cheap and raw in front of him.

He was completely blank, in his mind at least, numb. His body hurt though, a whole bunch of old scars and strains he'd put on his body over his lifetime had all woken up together. The belly wound from the scavenger's gun, the stab wound from the operative. Even his ear had started to ache. Every last injury made itself known to him.

The blank mind he could deal with, the blank mind was a blessing and he knew it because there were many things he could guess at under the blankness he didn't want to deal with.

But his whole damn body hurt and he was putting it to sleep the only way he could figure how.

The first glass made him retch, the second gag, the third wince, after that he didn't notice any more.

Simon got home barely twenty minutes after Inara's conversation with River. Kaylee checked every last inch of him thoroughly and kissed him until he was dizzy. Mid way through all this River strode gracefully through the cargo bay and rolled her eyes at him on the way.

Simon watched her ruefully over his bao bei's shoulder, River made it about four steps up the stairs when Jayne appeared from nowhere and started barrelling down. Simon saw his sister retreat rapidly and step clear. There was something about the way she stood, something that said that she wanted to be small and unnoticed.

Jayne saw her, he couldn't help but see her and there was a flicker in his eyes that Simon couldn't understand but somehow felt he should.

It worried him sick, though he didn't know why.

Inara met with the customer, her cover story "The Captain had to meet with the port authority, he sends you his apologies. No, nothing that will interfere with the delivery of your goods, just the renewal of some paperwork, merely a formality." Was accepted without question.

But then Mr Weaver was a little dazzled by Inara and intimidated by Jayne glowering over her shoulder.

When the customer had gone, Jayne started stowing the cargo without being asked.

"Jayne?" He spared a glance for Inara and Inara was shocked by the blankness there. She'd never credited him with much brain but his eyes were always so alive. He looked like an animal licking a wound in a corner. It threw her off balance, made her want to leave him alone, but she needed him, Serenity needed him. "Jayne, when the cargo is stowed can you go look for the Captain. River," she saw his face flinch at the name, a tiny tic that very few people would have noticed, "River tells me we have only a few hours before we lose the most fuel efficient and fastest course. We will eat all our profit in fuel if we miss it." She looked at him doubtfully; of all the people on the ship, she had the least understanding of his talents. "Can you track him?"

Jayne gave her a look, "Doubt he's left footprints or pissed up trees ta mark his route, but yeah, reckon I can find him. Just gotta find the fight ain't I."

That did not make her feel any better.

Jayne didn't find a fight and that surprised him. When asking around didn't find the Captain he did a tour of the bars close to Rick's shop and found Mal out cold under a table in the sixth.

He was thankful that he'd thought to bring the mule. The man was a dead weight.

Jayne missed Zoë's arrival and departure, packing her life into boxes. She gave Wash's flight jacket to River. "Reckon I don't hafta tell you I don't blame you."

River held the jacket to her like it was a benediction. "I know, no blame, just anger. Not at me, not at the Captain but Wash stands between you and us and you can't see us clearly." River's hands clenched at the cloth, "Wish the Captain was here, wish…"

"Probably best he ain't." Zoë interrupted, "Man'll need time fer this. Don't let him push everyone away."

River just nodded.

Zoë took everything else, except the dinosaurs.

Simon decided against pumping the Captain's stomach. "He hasn't quite killed himself."

Inara put him to bed, but it was River who climbed down into Mal's bunk with a bucket, painkillers and water.

"River?" There was a frightened question in Inara's eyes.

"He doesn't love her, not in the way you mean. They stood together for so long. There are dark places he has been that would have swallowed him if it wasn't for Zoë always dragging him back to the light. She gave him balance, when he looked inward and back she always looked outward and forward, that's why she found Wash, why she was able to find Wash." River looked at Inara, her eyes serious and worried. "He will be thrashing around looking for an anchor. Trust your instincts. You've fought for so long for a reason."

Inara suddenly looked exhausted and older, "I don't think I can stand any more."

River grimaced, "Like a lot of things, it has to get worse before it can get better."

Mal dragged himself out of his bunk 36 hours later along with a mood so chilly it froze everyone like liquid nitrogen and made them all brittle.

River sat back and waited for the right moment to tap and make him shatter; despite the hideous embarrassment and despair of her encounter with Jayne she felt bizarrely invincible. Perhaps because she had plans for herself, a path in front of her of her own choosing. She judged that of everyone on Serenity she was the strongest, whatever Mal's fury threw at her would bounce straight off her armour.

Kaylee was everywhere the Captain wasn't and when she had to be in the same space with him she was rigid and monosyllabic; his frost simply battered and swamped her sunshine.

Simon got between his Captain and his Kaylee with almost suicidal regularity. Somehow looking down his nose at the taller man, the Captain's snarls bounced straight off him but Kaylee's tears were his vulnerability.

Jayne probably fared the best of them all, in other circumstances the Captain might have noticed the man was only out of his bunk when there was something to do but his own demons were far to loud for him to consider another man's problems. Jayne's demon's weren't nightmares and they didn't tear him or those around him apart. They were the image of his mother behind his eyes when he had nothing else to think about, a persistent niggling feeling that he'd done something plain dumb and wrong.

They limped along like this for close on a month and through two deliveries for the Weavers and one for one of their friends and if the cargo got there on time and in one piece it had very little to do with the Captain and everything to do with his crew.

Inara charmed and liaised with the customers. River worked out trajectories and course's as if she was born to it. Kaylee welded, tweaked, and coaxed the engine beyond the point where it should have fallen in a heap in her feet. Jayne lifted and stowed the cargo in the best places, saw to the other grunt work without being asked and looked intimidating when the need was there which wasn't often because these were milk runs.

He even cleaned out the Septic Vac, without being asked.

Finally, twenty-nine days later at what was two am from Serenity's perspective, Mal got out of bed because he'd had a nightmare. He'd been asleep for just under two hours when his brain produced a dream, in which even the survivors of Serenity Valley looked at him with empty bloody eye sockets while he ran through them slipping and sliding in their spilled intestines; searching for something he couldn't name.

He started to boil water for coffee, then spun away from the stove and went deliberately to the seating area at the back, popping a small plate from the floor his hand closing around the neck of some of Kaylee's engine hooch.

Four glasses later his body was well on the way to being comfortably numb, perversely the inside of his head was making all sorts of noise. Memories, anger, confusion all clashing and bashing together like wind chimes in a hurricane.

He didn't see Inara coming until she was there, frozen, tea cup in her hand, hair a little ruffled which was a first, face naked wearing only it's own colours. His eyes dragged down, her nightgown was not some fantasy thing of lace and silk. It was simple linen, wide necked, showing the curves of her shoulders, gathered under her breast with a simple knot of ribbon.

She looked real.

He untangled his tongue and waved the hooch bottle at her. "Wanna drink 'Nara?"

She showed him his teacup, "Just tea Mal."

"Huh," Mal stared stupidly at the teacup, "Why aintcha brewin' tea in yer shuttle?"

"I've run out of Indian tea."

"Oh, okay." He watched her as she busied herself around the stove, when she reached up on tiptoes to the high shelf for the tea canister her simple nightgown tightened over her hips and her rear.

Mal got on his feet without consulting his brain and reached up for the tea from behind her, his intention to be helpful covering his instinct to get close. His body covered her back, sliding against her as he reached up. His other hand wavered, then landed on the counter to steady him rather than around her waist where he'd wanted it to be, so that it wasn't quite an embrace, so he could pretend that he hadn't done it to get close to her, to have contact.

He heard the breath hiss through her teeth. "M-Mal?" She didn't sound cross, just confused. Her face turned to him a little and she looked at him from under her lashes.

He put the tea canister on the counter in front of her, now was the time to move back, to make a sarcastic comment, to make her angry and push her away, but he didn't.

"'Nara." he said simply, his voice husky. Slowly, painfully his arms slid around her waist. When she didn't push away, he buried his face in her neck, filling his nose with the fresh scent of her hair and her skin. He shivered and he felt her shiver too.

"Why Mal, why now?" It was the softest whisper.

"Need ya 'Nara, a man gets stuck in the dark, reckon he craves the light."

He felt her stiffen a little and reflexively tightened his hold.

"Why now Mal, why is it so dark that you need me now?"

"Just do is all."

Inara pulled herself away, gently un-wrapping his arms from her waist. Not intending to make it a rejection, but the Captain was in a very dark place and though he wasn't drunk, he was definitely impaired.

"Huh," he pushed himself away from the counter sharply, stumbling a little. "What did ya stay fer 'Nara? Can't believe the whoring opportunities are really better on Serenity or do ya just like ta have a man around as can't have ya and hurts for it." He said, his voice bitter and hurtful.

He remembered then, one of the reasons he loved to make her mad, her breathing got fast and hard while she tried to keep a hold of herself. He didn't get time to appreciate the sight fully; Inara poked him hard in the chest.

"Why am I here Mal?"

"Huh?" If she wanted a philosophical debate Mal wasn't up to it.

"What's my purpose?"

"Huh?" Mal still wasn't getting it.

"If we do this what will I do? What will my job be?"

Mal's brain staggered and fell down, "Ain'tcha got a job?"

"Are you saying that I can be your lover and a companion?"

"Well," his mind struggled to its feet and bumped around in his head thinking about that, his face went dark, "ain't sharing ya."

"Exactly. So what would I do?"

Mal gaped at her blankly, "do?"

"Do you just expect me to sit in my shuttle until you have finished your crime and are ready for me?"

"Well," Mal's alcohol fuzzed brain cells crashed together, scrabbling for ideas. "Could use a cook I guess." For a second he thought she was going to hit him. She turned on her heel and stalked out of the galley.

"'Nara, dontcha want yer tea?" Her tea cup shattered on the cabinet, quite close to his head. "Guess not then." He fell into a chair and clutched his head, "Maybe this is just another nightmare," he muttered.

Inara stormed around her shuttle, River watched her from the pilot's chair, surrounded by portable pads on which downloads from the Cortex scrolled and flashed, scrubbed through a filter of her design, executed in tandem with Kaylee to reduce the likelihood of triggering signals reaching her.

Inara had been swearing inventively in Chinese for some time, interspersed with blistering critiques of the Captain's intelligence, morality and personal hygiene. If she hadn't cared so much for Inara, River would have found it funny.

"It's time," River got up from her chair and undid the clasp of a strange looking choker she was wearing around her neck.

Inara plumped down onto the bed, "River I don't know. I don't think he…"

River placed a finger to her lips, "Shush, I will deal with it."

River danced from the shuttle, she felt light and alive and saner than she'd been since the Academy. Her brain did the rumba with probability and the waltz with complex equations. When her head was full of numbers, it somehow wasn't full of people, which was wonderful.

She made her way to the Captain's bunk and rat a tat tatted on his hatch to the rhythm in her head. It slammed open to reveal a scowling Mal.

"Don't pull faces Captain, if a stream of charged particles were ejected from the upper atmosphere of a star's surface and then changed direction it might stick."

"Huh?" said Mal.

"The original saying seemed inappropriate on a space going vessel." River smiled sunnily.

"What do you want River?" asked Mal, the last thread of his patience twanging like a bow string.

"It would be more appropriate to ask what do I want, as in you, since you are the crux of the matter."

Mal squeezed his eyes shut, "My head hurts n' I'm tired little witch."

"Then let me in and I will explain quickly."

"That a promise?"

"Yes."

Mal stepped back and waved an inviting hand at the interior of his bunk, "Get yerself in then."

River slid down the ladder gracefully and after a short tug of war with Mal who seemed to prefer the idea of his bunk remaining open shut the hatch firmly behind her.