I own nothing.

River rolled on her top bunk and sighed. The silence was entirely to opressive. She hated silence now that Jayne was gone. There was no one to read with her-though they never read together; they were just in the same room together-no one to play cards with, and no one to play practical jokes on. The crew, had begun to see her as an equal, although they still sent her longing looks when they thought she wasn't paying attention and Monty was attempting to fill Mal's position as her surrogate father. She could have two maybe. Mal wouldn't mind. Especially if it was Monty.

River pulled out the small stack of letters and frowned. They just weren't enough. How did Jayne do it? How had he lived so long without anyone caring about him? Only getting letters from home once every few months? It was heartbreaking. River sent him a letter every week along with letters to everyone on Serenity every month. Jayne's letters in reply were few and far between and revolved around almost nothing. Even after he'd joined up with another crew they seemed lacking. The first one was her favorite only because it had been simple and straight to the point. None of the talking in circles he was doing now.

"Been thinkin' on ya, River. I miss ya." That was all it had said and he'd simply signed his name. He didn't write to anyone on Serenity. She knew because Kaylee was always asking her in letters if he was okay. She felt special, important knowing he wrote only to her. However, the lack of personal information he sent her was staggering. He wasn't who he had been when they had bunked together. It needed to be fixed. Remembering how happy he'd been when she'd finally allowed him to read her book of "sex poems" and then had let him keep it, River decided the best way to get him to stop acting like an idiot was to send him one and she knew the perfect one. She would be taking a rather large risk in sending this. Though she hadn't been particularly open with him, she hadn't been entirely closed off either. This was the only matter on which River was unsure of Jayne's reaction and there was really no way in which to go about it delicately. Ignoring the blush, that crept up into her cheeks, she began to carefully pen him a very important letter.

Jayne liked getting mail from River. Sometimes, he got mail from Kaylee or even Mal, but he looked forward to River's the most. Sometimes, they were filled with crazy gibberish because she was so excited to tell him about something that had happened that she became practically incoherent, but he liked them. They were fun to decipher and laugh at when he realized it had to do with some bar brawl where she punched some hundan or spit in a purplebelly's face. He never read the letters out loud to his new crew mates. It wasn't because they wouldn't understand the possible gibberish it contained. No, it was because they were private. Sometimes he heard the crew theorizing as to who he got so much post from. When one of them had said they knew it was from a girl because it had a girly scent to it, they'd all decided it was some girl he'd left on some rim planet who was madly in love with him. He liked keeping them guessing almost as much as he liked the idea of River being in love with him. If any girl were to ever fall in love with him, he'd want it to be her. She was the kind of girl a man would want to keep around. She knew a little bit about everything, which was handy and she knew him better than anybody. He also wanted it to be her because he was a little bit more than in love with her.

They'd bunked together for nearly three months and River had changed a lot in that time. She'd been happier, smiled a lot and then she'd started getting really girly. It was slow coming at first. First, she had started wearing different clothes. They'd been tighter. That had been eye opening for him. He saw curves on her he didn't know existed, but it hadn't been enough to get him to think on her that way. It was just one of those things where he noticed she was a lot more feminine than he'd ever thought. Then, Inara had sent her some make up. River had turned her nose up at it for a while until she finally gave in and started playing with it. After a while, she started wearing some of it and she looked good. It wasn't a lot, just a little bit, but it was another change that Jayne caught on to. Up until that point, he'd classified her as a friend. Then it had gone so far as to being his best friend as they talked about everything together-or they didn't talk at all and that was okay. It was comfortable. River would read and he would read. Or, she would read and he would play his guitar. They had "shower conferences", showering in the stalls next to each other where they'd discuss how Monty's plans were a lot less dangerous than Mal's, but still as stupid and how the mechanic, George, shouldn't be allowed to double as cook as he always either over-cooked or under-cooked the food. Sometimes, River would sing "Hero of Canton" and he'd have to throw his soap at her over the wall separating them to make her shut up even though it never worked.

When he left, the silence was too much. It was uncomfortable. There was no one to pick up on his foul moods, to make him laugh with dirty jokes that even made him blush, or pull pranks on him when he was least expecting it. It was during these lonely, awkward silences that he would think about her and that whispering that had always been in the back of his mind would come to the fore-front and scream at him. It only took that first week being on Verbena for him to figure out what he had been trying to find and why that voice screamed into the silence. But he kept it to himself. River didn't need a man like him mucking up her life when she was trying to find happiness.

Jayne dropped down into his bunk, ignoring the curious looks from his crew mates-who were all nothing more than a bunch of grimy, disgusting, piss-ants in his opinion and collapsed on his bed. Tearing open the letter, he breathed out heavily.

Dear Jayne,

When thinking of you, I remembered the perfect poem. It is not word for word as I have tweaked it to better represent the both of us. I hope you like it.

Your Guitar: To Jayne

From Ariel to Miranda on: --Take
This slave of music, for the sake
Of her, who is the slave of thee;
And teach it all the harmony
In which thou canst, and only thou,
Make the delighted spirit glow,
Till joy denies itself again,
And, too intense, is turned to pain;
For by permission and command
Of thine own heart thou must understand,
Poor Ariel sends this silent token
Of love that never can be spoken;
Your guardian spirit, Ariel, who
From life to life must still pursue
Your happiness,-for thus alone
Can Ariel ever find her own.
To Prospero's enchanted cell,
As the mighty 'verse tell,
From the Throne of Reynolds thee
Lit you o'er the trackless sea,
Flitting on your prow before,
Like a living meteor.
When you die, the silent Moon,
In her interlunar swoon,
Is not sadder in her cell,
Than deserted Ariel.

Many changes have been run,
Since Ferdinand and you begun
Your course of love, and Ariel still
Has tracked your steps and served your will.
Now, in humbler, happier lot,
This is all remembered not;
And now, alas! the poor sprite is
In a body like a grave.-
From you, she only dares to crave
For her service and her sorrow,
A smile to-day, a song to-morrow.

The artist who your idol wrought
To echo all our harmonious thought,
Felled a tree, while on a steep
The woods were in their winter sleep,
Rocked in that repose divine
On the wind-swept Apennine;
And dreaming, some of autumn past,
And some of spring approaching fast,
And some of April birds and showers,
And some of songs in July bowers,
And all of love,-and so your tree-
O that such our death may be!-
Died in sleep, and felt no pain,
To live in happier form again,
From which, beneath Heaven's fairest star,
The artist wrought your lov'd guitar,
And taught it justly to reply
To all who question skilfully,
In language gentle as thine own;
Whispering in enamoured tone
Sweet oracles of woods and dells
And summer winds in sylvan cells;
For it had learned all harmonies
O the plains and of the skies,
Of the forests and the mountains,
And the many-voicéd fountains,
The clearest echoes of the hills,
The softest notes of falling rills,
The melodies of birds and bees,
The murmuring of summer seas,
And pattering of rain and breathing dew,
And airs of evening; and it knew
The seldom-heard mysterious sound,
Which driven on its diurnal round
As it floats through boundless day,
Our worlds enkindle on their way-

All this it knows, but will not tell
To those who cannot question well
The spirit that inhabits it:
It talks according to the wit
Of its companions, and no more
Is heard than felt before
By those who tempt it to betray
These secrets of an elder day:
But, sweetly as its answers will
Flatter hands of perfect skill,
It keeps its highest, holiest tone
For thy belovéd Jayne alone.

I miss you terribly and think of you often. I don't like feeling the silence when it is not yours. If we are ever in the same port, I'd like to see you. Please say you miss me just as much.

Love,

River Marie Tam

Jayne let out all his breath in one whoosh. The poem had been very unexpected, but the message had been fairly clear; he most definitely would not be mucking up her life as she very much wanted him in it. Jayne debated for several moments on whether or not he should respond in kind; finally giving in to the voice in his head, which practically screamed with joy. Jayne rummaged through the volumes of poetry he had picked up until he found the book he had been looking for. Instead of purchasing untold amounts of trim, he now spent much of his cut on books. He was surprised by how much he understood in them. The words were flowery, but the meanings were clear and he understood why people liked it so much (he being one of them now). It just sounded nicer. They would be dirtside for a while longer. He had time to write something back and mail it right quick.

River hadn't expected to run into the crew of Serenity the next time Monty and the rest of the crew of Prospero stopped by the Skyplex. Even though she was happy to see them, all she really wanted was her letter from Jayne. It had been five months since she had sent him that first poem and he had sent her an equally ardent one back. And while not all the poems were centered around their unexpected feelings for one another, they were just as personal in their own way. River had sent him one about a purple cow when he had mentioned at the end of one of his letters that they were transporting cattle and he had followed it up with a dirty limerick, to which she supplied a dirtier one she had heard from a new crew mate who had decided it would be a good opener when trying to get her to flirt with him. It hadn't been, but the limerick had been too good not to send to Jayne. Today she would get her reply poem.

River ripped the envelope open and her former Captain raised an eyebrow. "There gold in there or something?"

"Letter from Jayne," she replied, adding without thought, "a poem."

"A poem? From Jayne? Let's hear it."

River looked down at the letter and her face flushed red. "Um, I'd rather not read it aloud." She stuttered, flustered, and trying hard not to laugh, "I'd rather not read it at all."

"Why?" Mal asked as everyone urged her to read it. River sighed, "Fine, but I warned you."

She took a deep breath and reddened further. "To my dear Ariel," she began, ignoring the questioning looks she received, "boys will be boys and he is just a boy. He's also a niu shun xi kuai de la shi hun dan. This won't be the last time this sort of thing happens to you, River. Boys like him are a dime a dozen and I'm surprised he didn't try anything more than talking dirty to you. If you are having trouble understanding, the following verses will help:

the boys i mean are not refined
they go with girls who buck and bite
they do not give a fuck for luck
they hump them thirteen times a night

one hangs a hat upon her tit
one carves a cross on her behind
they do not give a shit for wit
the boys i mean are not refined

they come with girls who bite and buck
who cannot read and cannot write
who laugh like they would fall apart
and masturbate with dynamite

the boys i mean are not refined
they cannot chat of that and this
they do not give a fart for art
they kill like you would take a piss

they speak whatever's on their mind
they do whatever's in their pants
the boys i mean are not refined
they shake the mountains when they dance."

River heard Simon cough to try to smother a laugh while Inara inhaled sharply and Monty roared with laughter. Mal himself was convulsing in his own attempts to quell his amusement. "There anymore fancy poems in there?"

"Yes, but I refuse to read that one to you," River said, turning up her nose. She ignored their dismayed shouts and finished her letter in silence. River read the last few lines with a frown. The ship Jayne was crewing on, Ferdinand (a stupid name for a ship they both thought), wasn't going to be docking on any of the planets the Prospero was. Inara subtly moved behind River, who was too involved in her letter to notice and quickly scanned her eyes over the last few lines before moving back to where she had been previously standing. River sighed and tucked the letter back into the envelope.

"You been doin' yer own hair an all," Kaylee asked her. River nodded and Kaylee smiled. "Well, it looks awful shiny."

"You look very pretty indeed, River," Mal said with a proud smile. River smiled back and hugged him. "I miss you guys."

Mal patted her shoulder awkwardly. Inara asked hopefully, "Does that mean you'll be coming back any time soon?"

River shook her head. "Being on my own isn't exactly what I thought it would be, but I rather like it. I'm not so alone and things are going rather nicely."

"Why do you miss them so much?"

"River, how can you ask that? We were all so close once." Inara pushed down the hurt she felt in her chest. "It's only natural that I would miss you and Jayne."

"I wasn't talking about me," River replied cryptically, turning to talk with Kaylee and Zoe. Inara stared at River's back for a long while, trying to understand until Simon addressed her. "Are you okay, Inara?"

"I-I'm fine," she assured him, "Just thinking some things over."

"Who would have thought that your sister an' my ex-mercenary would become pen pals," Mal laughed as he and Simon watched Kaylee and River talk Monty into eating an ice planet. He was just as bad at it as River was, his beard sticky with ice cream as it bounced into his face. Simon smiled as he watched his sister and his girlfriend laugh at Monty, who was becoming more and more agitated. "Yes, I must say I'm quite surprised, but only because I never expected him to ever write back. He never writes to any of us. However, I'm glad they're keeping in touch. River's never had many friends and since Monty is really the only crew member she has gotten even remotely close to, it's good to know she has someone to talk to. Even if it is through letters."

"She sure is different," Mal mused, "makes you wonder what Jayne's like now."

"You think he's still out whoring and getting into fights," Zoe asked as she joined them. Mal shrugged. "Who knows. I suppose we could ask River, but I doubt he tells her 'bout all his...exploits. An' Lord knows that girl would not want to hear about them as nobody ever does."

"I highly doubt he's whoring," Inara put in, watching River with a keen eye, "I'd bet out of all of us, those two have changed the most."

"Don't mean he's stopped whoring," Mal snorted, "that man whores across the 'verse like each an' every haul is about to be his last. Ain't no way he could give it up in the span of ten months time."

Inara shrugged. "People change, Mal."

Mal raised an eyebrow. "You don't."

Inara bristled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Yer still second guessin' me, you still think act as though yer above me when you ain't. An' not once have you actually been honest 'bout anything. Yer still hidin'. You've always hid from the folks around you." He sighed. "I don't want to get into this, Inara. I know fer fact you been off, what with all the things that have changed. I just think that instead of trying to ignore it, you oughta embrace it."

Inara glared at him. "And just how do I go about doing that?"

"Find somethin' worth changin' for," he said with an unusually kind smile, "makes it a whole lot easier."

Mal turned back to look at River and Kaylee and Inara followed suit. Everyone seemed to have everything worked out except her. How did they do it? Find what would help her change?

Monty's iceplanet smacked him in the face hard and River and Kaylee cried with laughter, causing him to hurl it at them. They squealed and jumped away. River threw her back at him and stuck out her tongue. It had been ten months since River's departure from Serenity and yet her bonds were stronger with the others than Inara's. How did she do it? Companion training was clearly not enough in this situation. Or was it because her life wasn't as glamorous as it had once been to them that they weren't fussing over her as much as they had and that was why she felt left out? Mal had stopped fighting her. But he still cared, didn't he? Inara rolled her eyes at herself and shook her head. She really needed to stop focusing on it, stop trying to force things to make sense and let things happen naturally. Yet Inara was used to being able to manipulate things; it was part of her companion training-the ability to manipulate a situations and the people around her to her benefit. Maybe she was losing her touch. That had to be it. Perhaps, she needed to return to Sihnon...or she merely needed someone to test her skills on. Too bad the only crew member susceptible to her charms wasn't present. She could try Mal, but ever since Saffron, he caught on quickly to the implementation of feminine wiles. And if Jayne really had changed the way she thought, he wouldn't be easy either. Maybe that was the point. He would be perfect. He would be both resistant and pliant. Where was an over crude, sex-obsessed man when you needed one? There was really nothing she could do to see if her skill had dulled any. And her clients never complained. It was always quite the opposite. So, was it really her training that needed honing or her social skills when not in a working setting?

That was when it hit her. Nowadays, she was always working. Her companion charm was always turned on and never did she confide in anyone. They weren't shutting her out on purpose. They genuinely believed she didn't want to confide in them, become closer to them. She was holding them at arm's length like she did all her clients. This needed to change. Now, she only needed how to figure out how to let her guard down without feeling completely out of control of the situation.

A/N: Okay, the poems in this are actual poems. The first is entitled "With a Guitar: To Jane" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. And yes, that is the actual first line of the poem. The rest I tweaked some to fit better as it was a poem Shelley wrote to a woman named Jane. The second poem is "the boys i mean are not refined" by e.e. cummings. Sorry this one was so long. Well, it was long in my opinion. The crew will reunite again shortly. The whole thing with focusing on Inara. She is the one character on Firefly that always seemed to act the same. She was always in "companion mode" and the only real outlet she seemed to have to act how she would if she weren't a companion was when fighting with Mal. Now that Mal is more laid back (in this story), she has no outlet and thus feels lost. Now she is always in "companion mode" and has no way to be herself. Also, she doesn't really remember how to conduct herself in anyway other than as a companion and so she is struggling to understand how to. That's why I've focused so much on her now and will continue to do so in future chapters although this is a Rayne fic. The actual Rayne, complete with smut for all you smut lovers (i love it too...), will not be for a couple chapters or so. stick with it.

niu shun xi kuai de la shi hun dan: cow-sucking piece of shit bastard

Please review.