Fic: Pillow Talk
Title: Pillow Talk
Fandom: Firefly, what else
Pairing: Rayne, naturally
Disclaimer: Omg. I have to show you guys a link to this most hilarious...ness. Scroll to J for awesome giggles.
Summary: A little bit of everything - a touch of River-speak, little bit of humor, a smidge of angst. Fun for the whole family! Anotherwords, something I wrote when I should have been working on my multi-chapter fic.
Thick hulking branches of redwood surrounded her. One had a scar where no bark would grow. Slice of a machete sought to tear it down. Redwoods were too strong for such feeble plots. River knew from experience. She ran her finger over the long-healed wound and leaves rustled against her belly in response. The calm sound of nature in her ear grew ever more steady. And River thought. Always thinking.
"Jayne, I would like you to promise me something."
The tree became a man and natures sound became an ear-shattering yawn. He cuddled closer to her back. Big bad mercanary wrapped around a little girl. "Ya know I ain't keen on stuff like that."
"Will you listen?"
A grunt of assent was her only reply. He was, as yet, only listening with five percent of his brain. The other ninety-five percent was allocated to the call of sleep just beyond, the nice bit of girl flesh against his skin, and subconscious bodily functions. No matter. He would very shortly see the seriousness of this conversation.
"If I should ever lose control again, should ever be the weapon, I would like you to try and stop me."
"'Course I'll do that," he mumbled. "Don't gotta promise nothin'."
"The probability that you would have to kill me to stop the weapon is very high."
She felt him tense behind her.
"Ya can't ask me ta do that."
River turned in his arms, bringing her hands up between them.
"I don't want bloody hands, Jayne. They are already crimson, dark and dripping with the screams of faces I can't remember. But I choose now. I want no more innocent blood soaking into my skin."
He gripped both of her shaking hands in one large paw. "Won't come to that. Doc'll use them sleepin' words on ya."
"And if Simon is not there?"
"I'll learn 'em."
"If I'm wearing my silencers, I would not hear your verbal command."
"Then we'll do somethin' else."
He was so adamant, so sure of his replies. It was sweet, in his stubborn completely-unreasonable way.
"I'm not asking death to be the first option. I simply wish for you to ensure I don't hurt innocents if I cannot be stopped by other means."
A flash of orange flashed in River's mind. Her only warning before Jayne's, "Yeah, well, I don't fucking care about other people and I sure as hell ain't gonna choose them over you."
"Jayne..."
"Don't. Ask. Again."
He honestly could not fatham taking such an action. It went against everything he stood for. He protected what was his - to hell with everything else. "I understand. May I ask something else?"
"No."
A pout. "But..."
"If'n yer gonna ask whether I say no or not, why you always ask if you can ask me?"
"It's polite."
"I suppose ignorin' my answers polite, too?" Under his breathe, he started muttering, "Ruttin' Core folk with their backwards hoity-toity manners..."
"What if I attack family? Mal or Kaylee or Inara?"
His mutterings silenced. For a long time. A deep sigh finally broke the stillness of the air. "You come after crew, I'll ...do what needs doing. Less it's Mal. He's on his own."
"Captain is crew and must be on the list!"
"Not happening. Yer brother's only on there cuz, well, he's yer brother. Not right to make ya live with killin' yer own kin 'ginst yer will."
"Captain is father figure. Could not live with self then either."
"Teach me them words."
"You are changing the subject."
"Brill-i-ant observation. What's the words?"
She sighed. Jayne would not budge any further on the subject. "I cannot say them all at once."
"You mean even when you say 'em it knocks you out?"
"Yes."
His chest made an odd noise. A moment later realization dawned. She punched said chest hard. "Not humorous!"
"Oof! Know it ain't. Not really." A pause. "Ya gotta admit, pictures little funny you saying it and falling all over yerself."
"You are precious seconds away from losing vital aspects of your anatomy."
He shifted in ways she easily recognized as his trying to prevent any obvious offensive moves on her part. "Okay, okay. 'S not funny. Say 'em one at a time then."
"There will be no laughing?"
"Nope. Not funny no more. Member?"
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before uttering, "Eta."
"Eta," he repeated.
"Kooram."
"Kooram."
"Nah Smech."
"Sounds like yer hacking up somethin'."
Innunciating firmly, she said pointedly, "Nah. Smech."
He rolled his eyes. "Nah smech."
"Now say them together."
"You'll pass out."
"You must learn them together."
"So I'll practice later when you ain't around."
"We need to know you are saying it correctly."
This was the logical course of action. But still...
"I'll say it fine."
She very nearly sighed. Honestly, must he argue over everything? "I'll wake up shortly, Jayne. Say the words."
"It ain't right. You just passing out like that."
"No. But I am giving you permission. Please."
"I don't wanna."
River rolled her eyes. "Seriously, this is..."
"Eta Kooram Nah Smech."
The world went black. When River awakened, they were in much the same postion as before. Only now, Jayne's fingers were casually resting on her pulse point. His eyes locked on hers in a rare show of absolute seriousness.
"Don't ever make me do that again."
She nodded.
Seeing her like that had made him think of death. Her dying. What she'd made him promise and the knowledge that he'd actually try and keep it. His terror that it might actually come to pass. The jumble of fear and dread swallowed him. Outwardly he was still and calm. Inside, he was jittery and full of ants. River knew what he needed to calm down. He needed to feel alive, he needed action, and he needed to be reassured she was alright. River removed his hand from her wrist and guided it to her hip. Pulling herself closer to him, allowing him to feel skin on skin. He breathed her in, sleep long forgotten. His mouth found hers, starting a dance ...their dance... that would ensure thoughts of death and bloodstained hands were soon to follow.