The newlyweds returned from their weeklong honeymoon in the track cabin owned by Kaylee's Uncle Whit wrapped in cotton candy pink clouds that only River could see. The crew said teary good-byes to Kaylee's family, boarded Serenity, and took off. She was also fairly certain that some of their muscle tissue had atrophied during their honeymoon. They both moved very slowly and tended to carelessly bump into one another as they walked. The first half of the day was spent moving Simon's things from his room in the passenger dorms to Kaylee's bunk, grinning all the while. The afternoon and evening they spent putting their bunk to good use.
Unfortunately, by the next day it was back to work for all of them. Mal was negotiating with one of the new contacts on Boros while Zoë and Jayne helped Kaylee rewire the dumping door in the cargo bay. Dewey watched. Meanwhile Simon was running a check-up on Angel at River's request. The little girl had woken up with a fever and stuffy nose a few days earlier. Mrs. Frye had helped her care for Angel in the first few days, but since this was the first time that her daughter had been truly sick, River was panicked. Simon confirmed that his niece had the flu, but that she would be fine as soon as the virus ran its course. He prescribed some mild pain reliever and lots of fluids and rest.
A week later, the crew stopped on Haven to commemorate the first anniversary of the Miranda signal release and the loss of their friends. Angel, River, and Dewey were all battling the flu. Since it was winter on Haven by then, both children stayed inside the ship with River while the others went to the gravestones. River went to pay her respects when the crew returned, but couldn't stay out long before the cold air exacerbated her coughing, and forced her back inside.
A few days after they left Haven, Zoë was infected with the flu, followed by Mal, then Inara and Simon during the following weeks. Kaylee was immune to the virus, it seemed, but once her morning sickness kicked in she almost wished for the sniffles. Though it was pretty funny to hear a stuffy Mal yelling at the Tams—not including River this time—about how there were to be no more babies on his ship.
"I'b serius! Dat's it! Dree's duh limbit!" He pointed at Dewey and Angel, "One, dwo…" then moved his pointing to the general direction of Kaylee's middle, "dree! No bore babies on by shib!"
"But, Cap'n, what if we wanna have another one after this?"
"Not on by shib."
"Well, what if it's you an' 'Nara, huh?" Kaylee shot back.
At their sputtering, the rest of the crew laughed.
"Come on, Mal," Jayne teased, "like we don't all know you two've been sexin' since after little Kaylee an' the Doc's weddin'."
Zoë glared at him. Jayne shrugged. What'd he say now?
"Won't be callin' me 'little' in a couple a'months," Kaylee gushed. She looked back at her husband and they beamed at one another.
"How'd dis habben, anyway?" Mal demanded.
Inara cleared her throat. "You see, Mal, when two people love each other very much, they feel the need to express that love—"
"Dat's not whad I bent!"
"At the climax of sexual intercourse, the male ejaculates—"
"Dat's not whad I bent, eider, li' albadross! Jung chi duh go-se dway, why would you even say dat when dere's lil' ear in duh roob?"
"If you raise a child not to believe sex is dirty, he or she will not think that sex is dirty," River responded.
Simon brought the whole tangent to a halt when he said, "We decided when we got engaged that we would start trying to get pregnant. She stopped taking the pill two months ago."
"And whad would'a habbened if ya got bregdant before duh weddin'?"
"Her hormone cycle didn't start returning to normal until just before the wedding."
"What'ja do, monitor her?" Jayne asked.
"Yes," the couple answered.
River grinned up at her big brother. "I get a niece or nephew!"
Simon smiled back. "I've enjoyed being an uncle so much I thought I'd reciprocate the honor."
River's smile faded away. She hadn't actually given her brother a niece, not really, and she never would be able to.
Too late Simon realized that was not the wisest thing to say. Certainly not the most tactful since River could never actually have children herself. "Oh, mei-mei, I didn't…"
"I know." She took Simon and Kaylee's hands in hers. "I'm very happy for you both."
"Thank you, sweetie," Kaylee murmured as she bent down to hug her. "Tell ya what, you can be the baby's godmother when it's born."
"I would be most honored," River accepted. She cleared her throat. "I need to give Angel her bath. Excuse me."
After River got Angel out of her highchair and carried the little girl, now nearly over her illness, out of the room, Jayne asked, "What's got her all whinged outta shape?"
Zoë rolled her eyes. "Were you not on the bridge for the whole River-can't-get-pregnant discussion?"
"Yeah. Still don't see what the problem is."
"Did it ever occur to you, you paramecium brain, that River might have actually wanted to have her own children someday?" Simon asked. "Or at least have had a choice in the decision not to?"
Jayne frowned. The thought had never entered his mind. She was still the Virgin Mary to him in so many respects. River having a child of her own implied sexin', and River having sex….
His thoughts skidded to a stop in front of a mental wall. Sure, he's made that comment to the Fed when she'd first crawled out of the box, but that was mainly to piss the agent off and get him to talk. And there was her comment about him smelling good, but he figured that was mostly the drink talkin'. And, yeah, River said she'd practice-groped with some boy from her childhood, but—
There was that wall, again.
But he did understand that she must be angry at not having a choice in the matter. Having kids was too important a thing to get the decision taken out of your hands. And maybe she was a little jealous of Kaylee? Did that sound right? This psychology thing had always confounded him.
&&&
While everyone else suffered their battle with influenza for that month or so, Jayne remained healthy. When the virus made its last ditch effort at life and infected Jayne it went all out. He came down not only with the flu, but pneumonia. He woke up unable to breathe one night, and not five minutes later River was pushing him and the Doc down to the infirmary after waking her brother out of a dead sleep. How she knew, Jayne didn't bother to guess. He figured it was a Reader thing.
The worst of it was, they had a drop to make the next day when they landed on Newhall, and Jayne was certain to be needed. Even after he spent the night in the infirmary, he tried to weapon up and go on the job. The fool had a coughing fit on the stairs on his way down to the cargo bay. Luckily, Mal was behind him, and caught the big man before he took a mighty fall. The Captain called for the Doc, and helped Simon get him back into the infirmary.
"Go tsao de fei fei, I'm fine!" he protested.
"You're not fine," Simon insisted. "You're sick, and you're lucky you didn't fall down the stairs the way you were coughing. You are not fit to go out on this job."
"Like hell, I a—" He started coughing again, hacking so hard he had to spit into the sink.
Zoë, already armed, walked into the common room where the rest of the crew was loitering, and made her way to the med bay door. "Sir? Mule's ready. Are we going?"
"Slight delay." Mal grunted as he tried to keep Jayne from walking out of the room.
River stood in the door way, and looked on with worried eyes. "Simon? Why is he so sick? He shouldn't be this sick; he is the largest human mass on the ship. Virus should not be able to take him down like this unless he had some kind of immune deficiency."
Renzide Shang Di, she was only being spiteful when she wondered if he had a sexually transmitted retrovius.
"He's not biologically immune deficient," Simon assured her. He and Mal finally managed to get the mercenary onto the chair, and Simon searched his cabinets for a general cough suppressant. "Jayne, have you had any changes in diet lately?"
"Yeah, Doc. I been havin' my meals catered while we was in the Black. What the hell do you think?" Jayne let himself sit down on the reclined chair, but wouldn't lay back. If he did that, he knew there was no way he would be getting up again. He felt like he had bricks strapped to his body weighing him down.
"Have you been under any stress?"
"Not more'n usual."
"What about your sleep patterns? Have you been getting enough sleep lately?"
Jayne winced, and it made his whole face hurt. God, he hurt all over. "Sleep's been a little finicky lately," he admitted.
"Lately as in how long? Drink this," the Doctor ordered, giving him the dosage.
Jayne tossed the medicine back and made a face at the taste. "Just a while, Doc. Maybe…couple'a weeks. I keep havin' crazy nightmares an' I can't get to sleep. Like one I had where there was a giant kitten what was rollin' around in curry powder an' then started chasin' me°. I kept sneezin' as I was ran away."
"Hm. That would have run your body down enough to make you this sick. Now you need to rest and regain your strength, and you are not going out on this drop today."
"Mal, tell 'im ya need me out there with ya."
The Captain shook his head. "You can barely lift the gun at your side, Jayne. You're movin' too slow. I take you out there with me today, and you're like to come back dead. Doc says you're stayin' here, you're stayin' here."
"It's my gorram job, Mal!" His voice waned at the end as his throat started to scratch and burn like hellfire.
"An' it's my job to make sure my crew is well enough to do theirs. You ain't."
"The Fiarri boys ain't the type to settle things smooth."
"Do you know what happens when the body can't fight the infection?" River asked as she stepped into the room. "Your pulmonary alveoli fill with greenish-yellow phlegm resulting in chest pain and a deep cough. This is accompanied by a high fever and chills," she pointed out just as a shiver shook Jayne's body, "along with headaches—which you have now. You're brows are pinched and your eyes are glassy. You also have loss of color, clammy skin, muscle ache, fatigue, and loss of appetite. If the condition worsens, your brain will become oxygen deprived, and you will feel lightheaded and disoriented. You may cough up blood, and then you die."
Simon rolled his eyes. That wasn't exactly the medical definition of what would happen, but River always leaned her descriptions toward the theatric.
While Jayne didn't want to die, not that he was admitting that he was really that sick, he wouldn't let Zoë and Mal go out on a job this unpredictable alone. "Come on. It's one'a the Cap's plans. You know they're gonna need somebody to watch their backs so's they don't come back lookin' like that hole-y kinda cheese."
"I'll go."
The three fighters looked at the girl. The Captain didn't like River out on a job with them since that frightening use of mind probing several months ago. She watched Dewey while Zoë was out with the Captain, and kept him entertained and distracted in case his aunt had been hurt and needed to see Simon when she got back.
"Don't think that's such a good idea, girl."
River sighed. "I promise not to do anything creepifying this time. If someone needs to be tortured for information, I'll just let Captain shoot off body parts until he talks."
Jayne opened his mouth to protest again, but his throat was too dry. He tried to cough and coat it, but he over did it, and he couldn't stop the agonizing bout of coughs. "All right," he rasped at last. "I'll stay so long as the girl goes."
Mal gritted his molars and turned to look at his First Mate. Zoë shrugged, it was his call. She was too busy watching Jayne accept the gentle circles River made on his back as his coughs died down.
"'Nara, you mind watchin' the tykes while we're out?" Mal asked.
"Not at all," the Companion said. "I'm sure Kaylee won't mind the practice, either."
"Good. All right, little albatross, you can come."
River nodded and headed to her room to get her boots.
"Wait'a minute," Jayne called her back. "Zoë, you got an extra holster?"
The woman nodded, her brow raised in question.
Jayne pulled one of his smaller guns from its place on his thigh, and handed it to the girl. "Meant it when I said the Fiarri's ain't the type to piss around with. Take Stacey with ya, but my hand to God, you bring her back scratched or dirty…."
"You'll kick my skinny pigu all the way back to Osiris, I know." She smiled at him as she took the gun. "Can't I take Lou-Lou, though?"
"Lou-Lou's got too much kick-back. Stacey'll do better for ya."
She sighed. "Very well. Now lay down, and go to sleep easy. We'll make sure the Captain doesn't get shot again."
Jayne glanced around the infirmary with distaste. "Don't wanna sleep in here. It's creepy."
River nodded her understanding. "Then go rest in your bunk. Take your medicine, and drink fluids. I'll come check on you when I get back."
Zoë surprised everyone, including herself, by giggling. She pressed her fingers into her lips to hold back the mounting sound. "Sorry. I'm really not laughing at you. I'm just gonna go get that holster now."
"My God," Simon muttered. "We really have entered an alternate universe."
&&&
Jayne woke up a few hours later in his bunk when his last dose of whatever Simon was giving him wore off. He pulled his blanket tighter around his shoulders, but it didn't help the shivers, and now his feet were cold. Well, they were colder than the rest of him. He had two blankets on, as well as his pants, two pair of socks, and a sweater his mother had knit him over one of his t-shirts, and still he couldn't get warm. He wondered if he really wasn't going to die 'cause this was not the way he planned on going.
His mind wandered as his temperature climbed. He thought of when he was little and his ma made him soup when he was sick. He thought about his brother getting sick all the time when he was younger. Jayne would take time off work and come home to sit by Matty's bed telling him about all the gossip in town he'd heard to make the boy feel better.
He thought about the last time he got real sick. It was years before he set eyes on Serenity. He'd been between jobs, and spent the last of his meager pocket money on a room in Miss Sally's Playhouseª to ride out the worst of it. After he could put his feet under him without collapsing again, he did chores around the cathouse—fixed things, carried what needed moving, repainted, he even cooked—to make up for taking a bed for so long. There were two or three girls still at Sally's place who were willing to accommodate an old friend when he needed it.
Free sex was nice and all, but just that minute, Jayne would give Vera for another blanket or two and a bowl of his ma's chicken noodle soup. He must be dying.
He registered the sound of his hatch opening, and opened his eyes to see slim bare feet descending the ladder.
"Don't want Vera. She would be lonely without you," the girl said as she walked toward him still wearing his gun in Zoë's holster, and carrying the spare wool blanket from the bridge and the purple fleece one from her room as well as some extra pillows. She had a small plastic measuring cup in her hand. "Also, I think that you are offering Vera only because you are sick and would renege on the deal once you have recovered."
"Prob'ly," he agreed. "How'd the drop go?"
"Usual." River handed him his next dose of medicine, and then bent over to set something more solid than wool and fleece on the floor beside his bed before she spread the two blankets over him. She unholstered the gun, took the magazine out, and put them with the rest of Jayne's arsenal behind the hung blanket. "You were correct in your assessment of the Fiarri brothers. They tried to take the cargo and the money. Mal was grazed. I shot three of the seven men. Captain and Zoë got one each."
"There are three Fiarri boys. You shot one'a them and they let you live?"
"Only disabled his gun hand. Never learned to shoot ambidextrously. Eduardo still lives." She settled back on the floor and asked, "Can you sit up?"
"Mm. Think so." He pulled his elbows up, and tried to leverage his weight onto them, but he needed River's help to get him sitting. River arranged his pillows behind his back then let him lean against them. Then she picked up the lap-top tray Inara lent her from the floor and placed it across Jayne's legs.
"Be right back."
Jayne frowned. He was thankful for the blankets. Very thankful, he thought as his shivers prompted him to snuggle down into the new weight. But what was she doing now? He didn't ask her to do anything for him. He thought she was kidding when she said she'd come check on him. River weren't no doctor. She didn't have to do a damn thing.
The girl came down the ladder slowly this time. The borrowed holster was gone. A bowl with a snap-on cover and a spoon were held in one hand. She brought it over and set it on the tray. Her hair brushed his arm when she fiddled with the lid to pull it off.
"One more thing," she said then scampered back out of the hatch. The smell of the chicken soup—canned, not homemade, but beggars can't be choosers—cut through the stuff in his nose and cleared his mind a little. A moment later, River returned with a mug and a teapot. She put the mug down on the tray and poured him a cup of Darjeeling tea.
"There any honey or any a'that lemon stuff up there?" he mumbled. He risked a glance at her face while he lifted a spoonful of noodles to his mouth. He wasn't sure she would make another trip for him.
"I shall check." She smiled at him before she left.
Jayne couldn't figure it, but if she was going to be all hospitable, he wasn't going to tell her not to.
River returned in a few moments with a plastic lemon in hand. "There was no honey, but we are in possession of synthetic lemon juice."
She flicked open the top and poured a few drops into the tea.
"C'n I get it made inta a hot toddie?" he asked.
River's mouth twisted. "I am not convinced that whiskey is appropriate in this situation."
"My Ma always made 'em for me…" he grumbled.
She sighed. "Very well. Where do you keep your flask?"
He slurped the last noodle from his spoon. "Top skinny drawer on the left."
River went to the small dresser bolted to the bulkhead. There were four, vertical big drawers, and two smaller drawers side-by-side at the top. She opened the left one and discovered a plethora of odds and ends. Her curiosity took over and she couldn't help a quick peek through his belongings. Loose bandaids, safety pins, needles and thread carpeted the bottom. There was an empty package of batteries, some strips of flannel, gun oil, a little notebook that turned out to be a financial ledger that recorded how much he earned per job, how much he sent home, the amount he spent, and on what, and how much he had left over, if any. She found the flask near the back of the drawer next to several tubes and small plastic bottles. The bottles appeared to be over-the-counter pain relievers and antacids. She pulled one of the tubes out and read the label: "Warming Massage Oil and Personal Lubricant."
She tossed it back into the drawer and wiped her hand on her dress a few times. That was such an invasion of space, and way, way too much information.
"You okay?" Jayne craned his neck to see over his shoulder, but that made him cough, so he turned back around. "D'ja find it?"
"Um, yes." She wiped her hand again, and handed Jayne the whiskey over his shoulder. She stepped back to his dresser, but before she closed the drawer, another, tamer tube label caught her eye. It was a mentholated muscle cream. She smiled and pulled it out then shut the drawer. "Jayne, take off your shirt."
He whipped his head around. "'Scuse me?"
"Take off your shirt." She held up the muscle relaxer. "I cannot apply medication through your coverings."
"Who said I wanted ya to?" Jayne squirmed on the bed and tried not to look like he was scooting away from her. She wasn't supposed to be down there in the first place. No one else had come down to see him except the Doc, and he didn't want them there anyway. If it was anyone else, he'd tell them to get lost. But she brought him soup and tea, and this was very weird.
River came to the side of the bed and frowned down at him. "You are still suffering from aches in your musculature, yes?" He nodded, and she continued, "And when you have previously had muscle pain, you use this, correct?" She held up the cream, and again he nodded. "You cannot reach your entire back, but I can. Also, the menthol will help ease your chest pain and clear your sinuses so that you can breathe."
"I don't know…."
River rolled her eyes. "Are you afraid that I will use my advantage to try to seduce you?"
"Hell no!" he sputtered and began coughing.
"Even if I succeeded, I doubt, given your current state of health, that you would be able to maintain an erection for a sufficient length of time for either of us to enjoy it."
If Jayne wasn't busy hacking up a lung, he would definitely have something to say about that. Probably something along the lines of, "Stop talking! Stop talking now!"
River either Read his extreme discomfort, or his glaring tipped her off. She knelt beside the bed so that she was no longer looking down at him. "You have assisted with Angel for months now. Gone above and beyond the call. Put up with me, even though I am not one of your favorite people, and when I have behaved ungratefully. I now have an opportunity to repay some of your kindness."
"Wasn' doin' it ta get paid back," he muttered. "Was doin' that stuff partly because I owed ya fer…you know. The Ariel thing…an' the Operative thing."
"Not relevant." She shook her head. "On Ariel you were doing what you thought best: protect yourself and the crew; what you were hired for. I proved that I was a threat, and no one was listening to you. Man of action anyway. I understood and forgave. I wouldn't have even told Simon if you hadn't made me mad that day. As for you attempting to send me off in a shuttle to the Operative, if you hadn't unlocked the door, it would have taken much longer for me to get out, and I may have had to injure you or another much worse in order get to the bridge.
"You betrayed me with your words on Ariel, but you used them to defend me to the Captain on Kerry. Your fear prompted you to rid the ship of a danger to everyone, but your compassion encouraged your assistance when I needed help with my teething infant. The scales were balanced, and yet you continued to help."
"Didn' do it to redeem myself or nothin'"
"I know."
Jayne swallowed a gulp of his toddy. "'Bout Ariel. You knew, didn' ya? What I did."
"I feared. I felt. Then I knew, but not until we were in the imaging suite and you began to usher us out."
"You screamed," he recalled. "That was why?"
"Yes. Before, I kept hoping my fears were unfounded. When the Agents arrived then I knew they weren't."
"M'sorry."
"Long since forgiven, Jayne."
He drained the mug, and asked, "What the hell'd you drop on me when you were in the storeroom, anyway?"
"Can of peaches."
"Couldn' you've used somethin' more manly like beets or carrots or somethin'?"
"I will try to remember that the next time I must render you unconscious."
He tried to glare, but it was more of pout. River ducked her head to hide her smile. When she cleared her face, she looked at him expectantly. "Shirt. Off."
Jayne still wasn't comfortable with this, but he nodded. "A'right, but be quick. I'm cold."
River took away the tray and now empty bowl, and set them on the floor while he pulled his sweater and tee over his head, but left them covering his arms and chest for warmth. Already his shivering increased. River pushed his pillows out of the way so that she could sit behind him.
Maybe this was a foolish idea, she wondered once she was there. She had his bare back and those wide shoulders that she found herself watching more and more often lately no matter how often she told herself not to, literally at her fingertips. She shook her head. He was ill and running a fever. She had no business thinking these kinds of thoughts about him now.
She flipped the cap open and squeezed a five-platinum coin-sized drop of ointment into her palm. River warmed it between her hands and worked it into the skin of his shoulders massaging out knots as she found them. She spread it up his neck and let the ends of his hair tickle her knuckles. It was getting long. His natural curl was fighting to soften his usually tough appearance. There was a streak or two of gray in there, and River recalled that he would be turning thirty-seven that December.
She squeezed more into her hand and followed the indention of Jayne's spine down and then outward to his sides. There were old scars and new scars. She traced them discretely hoping that he wouldn't notice. They told her stories of bullets and knives and one fountain pen. When she could no longer pretend she'd missed a spot, River pulled her hands away.
"Done." She handed him the tube. "You can apply to your chest."
He pulled his two shirts back over his head, and murmured, "Thanks."
River looked around for a reason to stay, but she'd already managed to snare more time than she originally allotted herself. "Done with your toddy?"
"Yeah. Here." He handed her the mug, and settled back against his pillows. Jayne's eyes closed, and his breath began to even out.
"All right. I guess I'll go and let you rest. Simon said you will be ready for your next dose of medication at noon." She picked up the borrowed tray, bowel, and tea much with their lids.
River looked back at him. "I hope you feel better soon."
"Mm-hm." He was already nearly asleep lulled by cough medicine, whiskey, and chicken noodle soup.
River bit her lip. Even slightly congested and wheezing, Jayne was hard to tear her eyes from. She was honored that he let her get so close to him today. She was happy that she made him comfortable enough that he could fall asleep.
She leaned over him, and waited. He didn't stir, so she bent over further. His mouth was right there, slightly open, just waiting, and he wouldn't even know. She might risk her health again, but would it be worth it to do what no woman in years could boast of doing: kissing Jayne Cobb on the mouth? River closed her eyes…
…and put her forehead down on his shoulder. She couldn't do it. She didn't want a stolen kiss. She wanted one that he gave her freely.
Should have taken it, stupid, she chastised herself. He's not likely to kiss you when he's awake. He doesn't even see you.
She stood up and came face to face with one of Jayne's girlie pictures. The woman was naked, lying on her back with her knees wide apart, and one hand barely covering her crotch. River sneered at the picture, and—once she got her fingernails under the top portion—ripped it off the bulkhead.
This is childish, she thought.
She tore it in half.
This is petty.
She ripped it in quarters.
But it's strangely vindicating.
River threw the pieces in the toilet and washed her hands before climbing the ladder out of Jayne's bunk.
&&&
Jayne had to stay in his bunk that entire week, and part of the next. The only time he was out of bed was to use the head or spit into the sink. Mostly he stayed in bed and slept or watched vids on the Cortex. River brought him food and medicine every day, but the rest of the crew didn't see the mercenary for days and days. Whenever Angel went to the bridge with her mother, she whined and fussed when they passed her friend's bunk.
When he finally climbed out of his bunk, breakfast just wrapped up, and River was elbows deep in dish suds. Angel somehow managed to squirm out of her highchair and ran squealing to greet Jayne.
"Up!"
Jayne grinned as he swooped her up.
"Aw," Mal teased. "Isn't that just adorable. Makes me wanna puke."
"Don't say puke," Kaylee warned. "It's bad enough I can't go into the engine room or near my husband without gagging from the smells. But that was pretty adorable."
Angel looked him in one eye, looked in the other, and then put her hands on his jaw and made him open his mouth, demonstrating with the "Ahh," sound, and looked in his mouth just like Uncle Simon did when she was sick. She didn't see anything, so she threw her hands up and announced, "All better!"
He melted. For the first time since he left home, Jayne would willingly own to loving someone other than his mother. He kissed her cheek, and carried Angel over to the stove with him to the stove. Angel babbled on and on half in gobbledygook and half clear words while Jayne made himself his first real meal since he got sick.
River scrubbed away at the plate in her hands. Honestly, who was jealous of a seventeen-month-old! So what if Jayne was openly affectionate with Angel. Angel was a baby, and babies were naturally disposed to be endearing. It was probably an evolutionary trait to protect the young of the species against abandonment. Jayne's reaction was merely an evolutionarily conditioned response of an adult member of the pack to a pup. Nothing to be resentful of.
She looked over her shoulder to see Jayne at the table with Angel in his lap. My, weren't they just so happy?
There is something truly wrong with me, River was convinced. She stared down into the soap bubbles. Seeing her hands move through the water in the sink, she realized she forgot her morning reminder about how to treat Jayne when she became his nurse. Stupid mistake. She was losing her focus and edge. She needed to spend less time ogling the mercenary, and start training again. And this time she could do it at her own speed and without painful consequences if she failed a task.
That decided, River pulled the stopper out of the drain to let the used water flow through the filters and into the grey-water holding tank to be used for non-sanitary purposes later. She dried her hands off as she turned around, and saw Angel stealing bits of pancake off of Jayne's plate.
Traitor! River seethed. Unfilial daughter!
Jayne looked over at the girl and found her glaring at him. "What?"
She focused her gaze on Jayne's face, and snapped, "I hope your face rots off." With that, she turned and stomped up the stairs to the bridge muttering, "Chiang-bao hoe-tze duh sha gua. Wuo dway-nee boo-woon, boo-jen, ni tuoda bian… byen shr-to de ni zi tsway-niou."
Kaylee sputtered in her orange juice as she giggled. "Oh, ow. Oh, that's not good. I'm gonna puke!" She got up and ran down the hall to her bunk.
"What the hell was that about?" Jayne asked the room at large.
Zoë and Inara shared a look. "I think," the First Mate ventured, "River was hoping for a show of thanks after putting up with you all this past week."
"I said my thank you's," he said. At least, he thought he did.
"Perhaps she was hoping for something a bit more demonstrative," Inara suggested.
"She wants demons or monsters?"
The three other crewmembers winced. Dewey didn't say anything because he thought it meant monsters, too, but he certainly wasn't going to side with the bear-man.
"Think they mean she wants ya ta do somethin' nice for her to show her you're grateful," Mal translated. "Women-folk like that kinda thing. Dunno why." He caught Inara's raised brow and glanced at her in question. "I said somethin' wrong, didn' I?"
Zoë recognized the you-are-so-not-getting-any-tonight look that Inara aimed at Mal, and chuckled. She turned her attention back to the confused Jayne. "You could try bringing her lunch later. Or go big and buy her a thank-you gift."
"Not something she can use for Angel," Inara warned. "Make sure it's something for River, and just for River. Something that tells her you see her as a person, not just crew or a mother. Something that lets her know you appreciate her taking care of you. Like when she bought you those cigars."
Mal leaned back in his chair and shook his head as he watched the two women. They were pushing a mite hard on this. He glanced over at Jayne. The man didn't seem to be fighting it. Mal figured he should be worried. He should be yelling right about now, or at least glaring. He could see that his little albatross was getting herself a mighty big crush on the mercenary, and while that didn't exactly please him, he was surprised to find that he was not about to pitch a fit and threaten either of them.
Huh. Maybe he was getting sentimental in his old age, or maybe it was the result of getting regular sex. That did have a tendency to mellow a man out. Either way, he didn't feel like getting worked up about something his entire crew seems to have agreed to work toward. Oh, he'd kick the man's ass if he hurt the girl in anyway, but the speed at which Jayne was catching on to the matchmaking scheme ensured him that he had a long while to wait before any pummeling ensued.
&&&
Jayne found River three days later after he returned from town with Kaylee. He still wasn't up to real work yet, but his intimidating manner was unaffected by inability to draw a quiet breath with his lungs still full of gunk. The scrap market on Ita was not the safest place for Kaylee to be in normally, but in her delicate condition, no one was taking any chances.
She was going through some of the weirdest poses in the cargo bay when they walked in. River had a long, thin piece of pipe in her hands, and she spun it as she went through different moves. Her feet moved as if she was dancing, and she brandished the pipe as if it were a sword. She went up on one foot, her left knee bent high and her toe pointed toward her weight-bearing knee. Her left arm arced over her head like a ballerina, and the right pointed the "sword" outward. Angel clapped from her playpen.
"She is so graceful," Kaylee gushed. "Wish I could move like that."
Kaylee didn't know the half of it, Jayne thought. River moved like a hot knife through cream with the power of a jackhammer behind it. He clenched the package in his hand and thought he did well choosing his gift.
He let the mechanic go on up the stairs with her engine parts. He spared a quick hope that she wasn't going to barf on her way up the stairs like she did when they were out getting the parts. The second she smelled the grease, she leaned her head around a corner and hurled in an alley until she was empty. Only then was she able to head into the store and buy what was needed to keep the boat in the air.
Jayne walked over to Angel's playpen and waited for River to finish whatever it was she was doing.
"T'ai Chi Ch'uan," River answered between pants when she completed her set. "Or Tai Chi Sword. I have decided to get back in shape. My muscles and reaction time have deteriorated out in the Black. Not to mention mental focus. If I had to face Reavers now, I do not think I'd win."
The thought of her fighting anymore Reavers made his insides twist up. He ignored it, and presented her with the small package. "Here. Zoë an' 'Nara said you was prob'ly mad at me 'cause I didn' say thank you the right way. So I gotcha this. It's a present."
River pushed a strand of sweaty hair that had escaped her ponytail out of her face before she took the lumpy mass covered by brown wax paper. She rested the three-foot pipe she was using as her chien°° against her leg so she could peel the paper back, and revealed a leather holster.
"Figured you needed one of your own so ya didn' hafta borrow Zoë's no more. Hers was a lil' big on ya, I saw. Think this one'll fit better. You gotta buy your own gun, though."
To her surprise, River was smiling. It wasn't exactly flowers and chocolates, but from Jayne it was just as nice. He stood there shifting his weight from foot-to-foot, and tried to keep his face blank, but she knew he was nervous—his brows twitched and the air around him buzzed like agitated bees. He really was adorable when he was uncertain of himself.
Jayne took her smile to mean she liked it. See? He knew he'd done good. And look at that. That glowy thing she did when she was happy started up. He must have really done good. "So ya like it?"
"Yes. It was somewhat thoughtful, yet still in your range of obvious gift choices." He looked confused, so she clarified. "It is for me, but clearly from you. I like it."
"Good." He cleared his throat. "Think I oughta go see Doc about my meds. Feelin' kinda queasy all'a sudden."
"Queasy is bad. I hope to see you at dinner."
"Yeah, see ya then." He turned and headed toward the rear of the ship, but looked back when he reached the weight bench. "If ya need any help with the Techy Sword thing…."
"I will call on the resident weapons expert," she promised.
Her warm glow followed him all the way down into the harsh, sterile blue of the infirmary.
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TRANSLATIONS:
Jung chi duh go-se dway—steaming crap pile
Go tsao de fei fei—dog-humping baboon
Renzide Shang Di—merciful God
Chiang-bao hoe-tze duh sha gua. Wuo dway-nee boo-woon, boo-jen, ni tuoda bian … byen shr-to to de ni zi tsway-niou—Monkey-raping idiot. I neither see nor hear you, you pile of crap…I will be a stone to your bullshit.
NOTES:
Thank you, Wikipedia for the description of pneumonia. Except for the death part. I added that. Seemed like something River would say.
° Happy 21st Birthday currikitten!
ªThe night show on 102.5 WEBN, Cincinnati
°° from http/