Jayne Dancing
Title: Jayne Dancing
Series: Finding
Author: ceslas
Rating: PG-13, NOT fluffy
Spoilers: Post-BDM , after Aftermath, before Five Kisses
Characters: Jayne/River, crew
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: Unification Day was usually a day for a good tussle. Not always. A prompt from
bookaddict43 on a night when the muse was being stubborn started one way but a question from
jaynedancing led to this. Continues from Firefly 100 drabbles.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline, even if seen out of order...
Organizational Post
Jayne Dancing
In the darkness of night running, she padded to the infirmary, feet bare, feeling the metal under her soles. Cold iron transferred heat from even her coolness to leave her sensing the chill of space creep up her legs.
“Why do so many words indicating cold begin with ‘c’?” She asked out loud to no one, not expecting an answer.
She leaned into the unlit infirmary, blue lights of monitors reflecting off a few surfaces. Quietly, she stepped in, careful to place her feet silently. She could feel a slight thrum of awareness from him, as much as she ever felt from him now. There was too much fog filling the spaces around his thoughts, smoke burned acridly in her mind if she tried to push in further. A vision of a bruin passed through her memories. The bear of her dreams pressed on her in the darkness.
Tentatively, she reached her hand towards Jayne, quiescent in sleep. She stifled a gasp when he grabbed her wrist just before it touched his bare shoulder. The movement had been faster than she could see in the darkness and the thrum coming from him hadn’t changed at all. She was taken by surprise and that alone stopped her from reacting.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, tried to order new information in with old. A bear that moved swiftly, cat reflex hidden inside ursine character.
“I didn’t feel you…” She whispered. His hand was gripped tightly around her wrist, still just shy of touching him. He hadn’t moved at all except to seize her curious reach.
“What are ya doin’?” He rumbled back, voice still fragmented.
“Feeling… smoothness clothes sharp angles… heat burns where it was gone… you were gone, and now, not.”
He opened his eyes to look at her, piercing in their intensity. “I scare you now.” He didn’t ask, he stated bluntly.
“Yes.” She answered simply, uncertain what he read in her. Not sure she was going to be able to decipher his response. The bear glared back at her, eyes narrowed, calculating.
He gripped her wrist more tightly, felt her shrinking back from him. “What did ya do ta me?” He grunted, fury behind the soft-spoken words. The disjunction of soft and venomous made her try to cower away. His iron fist wouldn’t let her. His fingers overlapped over each other around her fine arm. She felt the pressure rupturing capillaries and pressing bones on each other.
“I can feel what yer feelin’ in yer wrist… why?” He asked as he ground his fist tighter.
A tear rolled down her cheek, the pain of his grip not lessoning. “I do not know, do not comprehend how this occurs.” She answered, trying to keep hitch out of her voice.
Another tear escaped. He watched it well before rolling down her flush cheek. It didn’t occur to him that being able to see so clearly in the near darkness was unusual. He had been the one with night vision his whole life. Figured it was just the way folks were.
“Why are ya here? Ain’t ta do with that mind gos se ya talk about, I know that much… but I dunno why?” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Why do I know that?”
She could hear in his quiet rasp a desperation, an anger crossed with fear. He truly was trapped in perceptions he had never experienced.
“Cognition, comprehension heightened… survival instincts enhanced.” She had to bite back a small cry as her wrist popped in distress at his unchanging grip.
“Make it go away!” He growled, teeth clenched as he felt the pain in her wrist himself.
“I cannot… not mine to take away… was only the source, am not the solution.” She cried softly. “Please, you are hurting me.” She pleaded.
He glanced down to her hand, pale even in the darkness. He considered its limpness, the lack of warmth in it. A pulsing shock was making his right eye twitch. The skin under his grasp was cool and soft. Slim fingers that held few calluses. He studied the paleness, not paying attention to the throb in his head.
She waited, held herself relaxed despite the fear that her bones would crumble to shards under his brutal hold. Tears flowed uninterrupted.
“Please Jayne… you are hurting me.” She said again, soft and frightened.
He flickered his attention back to her eyes, a cruel smile barely touched his mouth, “Now ya know what not knowin’ feels like… like it?” He asked, voice holding no sympathy at all.
“No, I do not… I have not had the sensory experience.” She replied, choking back more words. She felt the thickness of his fingers leaving impressions on her skin. Fingerprints that would be emblazoned in blue bruises. A small part of her thrilled to that idea, that finally someone could feel what she felt. The uncontrolled reaction to a perceived threat. She was processing why she had not responded in violent kind when he snarled and shoved her hand away from him.
She cradled her hand to her, felt the blood pool in the bruised tissues. She would be unable to use the hand for some days, bones were only barely not broken.
He grunted as he turned away from her. She lost the bright blue anchor of light reflected gazing into her and it hurt more than the pain in her abused wrist.
“Jayne…” She pleaded.
“Get away from me…” He rumbled, anger lashing out at her. The hulking body language of a frustrated bear radiated from him.
She fell back a step, rebounded and reached out with her uninjured hand, caught herself against him. His skin was hot and dry, softer than she expected. In a barest moment she felt like she was holding an ember of hottest coal. A powdery softness of volcanic tuff let her fingers glide over his shoulder to brush across the fine curls of hair on his chest. Without looking to her, he swiped an arm carelessly out, throwing her contact off.
“Ger’off me!” He muttered.
She retreated, tears still stinging her eyes as the blood returned to her hand, needles of pain tingled all through it.
~*~ ~*~
“Mei mei.. what happened?” Simon’s voice was worried and anxious when he saw her wrist the next morning. There were clear finger marks encircling her arm. Dark blue-black bruises had already formed. He knew that only happened in cases of severe trauma.
“Was investigating problematic lack of perceptions.” She answered calmly, hoping he would let it be. Instead he carefully reached out to lift her hand up for closer inspection.
“Who did this to you?” He asked angrily, knowing that there were few choices available, and really only one who would do such a thing.
“Irrelevant, pain is shared… universal. Damage done to one is felt by other.” River replied,.
“I don’t understand…?” Simon sounded flustered as he heard her words.
“He felt it… felt what I felt. Was aware of skin being burned, expanded knowledge outside of self.” River sounded distant, reflective even as her brother probed her wrist for broken bones. She ignored his ministrations, caught in thoughts of Jayne feeling what she had felt the night before.
“Mmmhmm…what’s that?” Simon distractedly responded to her words.
“Simon,” River caught her brother’s eye, “He did not mean to hurt me… Was reacting… triggered and unknowing…”
“I don’t understand mei mei… what triggered Jayne?” Simon was doing his best to not immediately go and confront the mercenary still in his infirmary.
“I did… I was investigating perceptual phenomena, discrepancies in actions and thoughts.. to much smoke, was blinded… wanted to see through.” River was earnest in her attempt to explain, but Simon was struggling to sort out her meaning.
“River, I…what happened?” He asked again.
“Thought there was an attack imminent, only explanation for response to stimulus.” Her expression smoothed as she determined the reason for Jayne’s reaction to her the night previous. “Threat perceived, responded according to natural instincts based on behavioral inputs.” Her eyes clear, smiling, River looked at her brother. He could see that she believed she had made a great breakthrough. Unfortunately, he was still not certain what had occurred except Jayne had held her wrist tightly enough to severely bruise it, nearly break it.
He needed to find out what was happening with the big man before he seriously injured someone. Before he triggered at something harmless.
~*~ ~*~
A crash of wood and metal informed Simon that he had been to late in solving the problem of Jayne. A man came flying out of an open doorway, headfirst, landing at the Doctor’s feet unceremoniously. The man did not move. Simon glanced quickly at the fallen form before pushing his way past a few onlookers crowded against the doorframe, peering into the bar.
Inside there was one large man swinging a stool around, sweeping three men down easily before tossing the furniture away and crouching, hands at the ready for the next wave. Usually Jayne had a feral grin on his face when he found himself in a tussle, but this time there was no such look. Simon, leaned in far enough to see that his sister was not present. A small sigh of relief at that. And then concern. The bar was fairly well stocked in Alliance soldiers, most looking like troops that had seen some action. This was no Border planet dive. Jayne was in the middle of a brawl with serious competition. And he was alone. None of the crew was there.
Simon spared a quick question to himself as to where the Captain and First Mate were. He vacillated over going into the bar to try and aid Jayne before chastising himself with the realization that there was nothing he could do there except get in the way, injured or killed. Possibly all three by Jayne himself judging by the severity of his attacks on the surrounding soldiers. With a last hesitant view, Simon’s blood ran cold as he recognized the calculation in Jayne’s eyes. He had only seen that once before, right before he had stopped River from shooting Mal in the Maidenhead. The man Simon knew as Jayne was not the man he was watching decimate the bar patrons.
He ran, ran as fast and as hard as he could to get back to Serenity, to find help for not Jayne, but the men Jayne was dispatching. Months after Miranda broke on the news troop presence had increased on all the strongly Allied planets. A job had taken them to Londinum and the Feds were thicker on the ground than flies on the Rim were. Simon dodged quickly between buildings and down alleys to get to the ship. Vaguely he noted that he had become quite adept at running and hiding and being a fugitive in the year since he had rescued his sister.
Nearly flying up the cargo ramp into the ship, Simon collided with Zoë who caught him in surprise.
“Whoa there Doctor, what’s got you by the tail?” Mal’s voice rang out from above as he came down the stairs.
Puffing, trying to catch enough breath to speak, Simon leaned his hands on his knees, bent double. Zoë looked over the young man’s shoulder’s to her Captain. Both cocked eyebrows questioningly.
“Jayne… Bar… fight… “ Simon gasped and swallowed hard, air still eluding him.
“That don’t sound to unusual Doc,” Zoë commented dryly.
Simon shook his head, beads of sweat sparkling in his hair. Zoë looked at Mal again, the Doctor really had been running hard.
Behind the three, River and Kaylee came on board, both laden with boxes filled with fresh produce. Kaylee wanted to sooth rattled nerves by making real food while they were docked on Londinum. None of them were really happy about being on a Core planet, but work was to be had and Inara had contacts that she could ply as a Licensed Advocate. Clients who had respected her as a Companion, and were aware of her potential to be a first class Advocate. After Miranda the need for that type of service had exploded.
Simon saw his sister, reached out to her. She saw his face, felt the frisson of fear across his nerves. Her eyes widened, panic pressed against her features. Abruptly she swung to Mal.
“Hurry! Must hurry before the fire unleashed burns all…” She dropped the box and grabbed Mal by the arm with her uninjured hand. He noted the bandage wrapped around her wrist for the first time. Before he could question, she had dragged him to the door.
“Hold on little witch, we ain’t just running out to be picked up by the first patrol we come across. Figuring it might tip them off if we all come runnin’.” Mal turned to Zoë and Kaylee, “Get the Mule prepped!”
“Time… no time to wait… Must hurry and descend to ride the wake.” River muttered as she let go of Mal and sprinted off the ship.
“RIVER!” Simon shouted, fear tinged voice.
Zoë’s hand on his arm silenced him, “Don’t worry we’ll catch up. No one in the ‘verse can stop your little sister when she gets to running like that.” Her voice was calm and purposeful. “Get the infirmary ready, we may well be needing it before the day is through.”
“My sister… she may…” He stuttered.
“No Doctor, I don’t think as she will.” Mal replied, “She ain’t the one we need to be worrying on right about now. ‘Sides she’s got herself sorted most times I conjure.”
“But… Jayne…” Simon started.
“Yep, that’s the one we got to be worrying on. Seems to me there is like to be a swath of destruction following him when we get there. Fair certain you ain’t got a safe word for that one.” Mal answered darkly. Everyone paused for an instant before moving into higher gear. Jayne without a stop button made them all edgy.
~*~ ~*~
River flew, feet barely touched the ground. Dust swirled in the wake of her skirts billowing around her legs as she ran. She knew where to go from Simon’s thoughts and as she neared the bar, the thoughts of the participants. Anger, fear, shock, bewilderment all confused in a hectic jumble. In the center an emptiness, a hollow core with nothing but acrid, bitter smoke. Jayne. She knew only he was there by his lack of presence. The bodies that littered the surroundings gave evidence to his physical actions. But no sense of him flooded her mind, his blanket smothered everything around him, blocked all sensations. That which she had begun to find comforting in its silence now scared her. The dull ache in her wrist reminded her how painful not knowing what he would do was.
She passed onlookers, slipped inside the maelstrom and a thrill passed up her spine. The dance he was engaged in was filled with passion and motion. Energy crackled around him as he brutally dropped, threw, struck at every movement. She caught his eye, he squinted hard lines, jaw clenched as he reached behind himself, over his shoulder and wrenched a man with a bludgeon up and over in front of him. His rigid gaze didn’t leave River’s as he spun the man by his head, twisting the exposed neck in a sickening crunch.
She drew her lips into a straight line, expression cool. Keeping her eye’s on Jayne, she spun a leg out sideways and upwards; attacker barreling in towards Jayne felt his chin snap up, the back of his head hit the wall. Jayne smirked cruelly, slamming his fist down on a shoulder, cracking an armor plate on the attacking soldier’s uniform. He finished the man by sweeping him sideways and launching the body over the bar.
River shifted left, kicked right dropping another man and scissored edged hands across the neck of a soldier left of her. Jayne responded quicksilver fast to two men approaching from either side; stepped half a pace back, reaching with long arms out and snapping the men’s heads together.
River sensed more troops would be coming, an alarm had gone up after the fight had proven to be more than just a friendly tussle. Jayne looked to be in no way done, as many men as were ranged against him, he struck down with varying levels of efficiency. Attrition through force. River surgically eliminated any within range, Jayne actually used one man’s body as a weapon by throwing or swinging him at other opponents. River calculated, Jayne decimated.
The whine of the Mule’s engines approaching tickled her senses. Jayne didn’t hesitate for an instant. Three more men were toppled by the crosswise use of a stool as a scythe. She vaulted one of the falling men, narrowly missing being caught in the sweeping wake of the stool. Closing the distance between them she slipped elastically up between Jayne and his grip on the remaining leg of the improvised weapon. Her body molded itself against his, left arm wove back from her shoulder to lay along his right. She nearly leapt back at the blast of repulsive energy, the inferno of heat that surrounded him. She could feel him clenching his muscles with her right arm wrapped around his torso. River kept his eyes fixed on hers by will. She saw him struggling to escape what held him in its violent embrace. His eyes were darkened, pupils dilated to hide most of the clear blueness of his eyes. He was seeing everything, responding to each movement as an attack. She held on, left hand curving around his wrist where he had nearly crushed hers not long ago.
“Stop… you must stop now.” She said clearly, her control ordered.
The bar was littered with fallen men, most groaning in pain, a few frighteningly silent. No one was approaching the pair locked in what appeared to be a death embrace.
He searched her face blankly, eyes passed over her smooth features looking for a threat to respond to. There was nothing. She was impassive, present.
“You must stop now.” She repeated. Her body pressed to his, painfully burning. Training to resist pain, to ignore pain reminded her that she could hold to him, keep him close to her and not show the fear that his explosion was causing her. She understood now why her brother feared her outbursts so much. This man she was affixed to was a mere breathe away from devastating both of them, from becoming death.
Alliance voices screamed in her head; the soldiers that lay scattered about cried out in anger and fear. A threat no one had ever expected to see had happened. River recognized with detached horror that the Academy had only selected dancers, gymnasts, intellectuals, gifted students because they could be harnessed in some way, were amenable to training and discipline by authority. Jayne was an unknown, uncontrollable variable. Her blood had infected his, their designs to make her more than what she was had created a weapon deadly even unto themselves.
And all she could feel from him was a thrumming rush of flame, crackling along his body, consuming all that would be thought and leaving nothing but a destructive inferno. Only stoppable when all the tinder was burned to ash, when the fuel that violence preys upon was expended.
She held on, praying to that unbelieved symbol, to the short fat man in his meditative pose, prayed that the others would come soon before he consumed her as well.
~*~ ~*~
It was Unification Day and he had figured to find the three of them, Zoë, Jayne and himself, in their usual state of injury after a U-Day tussle. Mal never expected to look at a destroyed bar and feel sympathy for those left on the floor and more for those who weren’t.
The big man had grunted a greeting as he brushed past Mal, barely avoiding rubbing shoulders with the stunned Captain. River shook her head when Mal turned to stop him. Her face was drawn and tight. Zoë gave him a brief pat on the shoulder, her silent way of telling him she would get them back to the ship where things could get sorted out later.
He surveyed the damage, the state of those left behind after River and Zoë had returned to Serenity with Jayne. He was chilled to the core at the sight. One man had been set on by more men than Mal could reasonably count. And Jayne had walked away, grim, silent, deadly. Mal had never figured Jayne to be anything but dangerous in a fight, but this was beyond what he had ever seen, except in the Maidenhead when the little Albatross had become an angel of violence.
There was nothing angelic about this ruin.
Series: Finding
Author: ceslas
Rating: PG-13, NOT fluffy
Spoilers: Post-BDM , after Aftermath, before Five Kisses
Characters: Jayne/River, crew
Disclaimer: Firefly owns me, I own words
Notes: Unification Day was usually a day for a good tussle. Not always. A prompt from
bookaddict43 on a night when the muse was being stubborn started one way but a question from
jaynedancing led to this. Continues from Firefly 100 drabbles.
All Jayne/River stories are in the same storyline, even if seen out of order...
Organizational Post
Jayne Dancing
In the darkness of night running, she padded to the infirmary, feet bare, feeling the metal under her soles. Cold iron transferred heat from even her coolness to leave her sensing the chill of space creep up her legs.
“Why do so many words indicating cold begin with ‘c’?” She asked out loud to no one, not expecting an answer.
She leaned into the unlit infirmary, blue lights of monitors reflecting off a few surfaces. Quietly, she stepped in, careful to place her feet silently. She could feel a slight thrum of awareness from him, as much as she ever felt from him now. There was too much fog filling the spaces around his thoughts, smoke burned acridly in her mind if she tried to push in further. A vision of a bruin passed through her memories. The bear of her dreams pressed on her in the darkness.
Tentatively, she reached her hand towards Jayne, quiescent in sleep. She stifled a gasp when he grabbed her wrist just before it touched his bare shoulder. The movement had been faster than she could see in the darkness and the thrum coming from him hadn’t changed at all. She was taken by surprise and that alone stopped her from reacting.
Her brow furrowed in concentration, tried to order new information in with old. A bear that moved swiftly, cat reflex hidden inside ursine character.
“I didn’t feel you…” She whispered. His hand was gripped tightly around her wrist, still just shy of touching him. He hadn’t moved at all except to seize her curious reach.
“What are ya doin’?” He rumbled back, voice still fragmented.
“Feeling… smoothness clothes sharp angles… heat burns where it was gone… you were gone, and now, not.”
He opened his eyes to look at her, piercing in their intensity. “I scare you now.” He didn’t ask, he stated bluntly.
“Yes.” She answered simply, uncertain what he read in her. Not sure she was going to be able to decipher his response. The bear glared back at her, eyes narrowed, calculating.
He gripped her wrist more tightly, felt her shrinking back from him. “What did ya do ta me?” He grunted, fury behind the soft-spoken words. The disjunction of soft and venomous made her try to cower away. His iron fist wouldn’t let her. His fingers overlapped over each other around her fine arm. She felt the pressure rupturing capillaries and pressing bones on each other.
“I can feel what yer feelin’ in yer wrist… why?” He asked as he ground his fist tighter.
A tear rolled down her cheek, the pain of his grip not lessoning. “I do not know, do not comprehend how this occurs.” She answered, trying to keep hitch out of her voice.
Another tear escaped. He watched it well before rolling down her flush cheek. It didn’t occur to him that being able to see so clearly in the near darkness was unusual. He had been the one with night vision his whole life. Figured it was just the way folks were.
“Why are ya here? Ain’t ta do with that mind gos se ya talk about, I know that much… but I dunno why?” His brow furrowed in concentration. “Why do I know that?”
She could hear in his quiet rasp a desperation, an anger crossed with fear. He truly was trapped in perceptions he had never experienced.
“Cognition, comprehension heightened… survival instincts enhanced.” She had to bite back a small cry as her wrist popped in distress at his unchanging grip.
“Make it go away!” He growled, teeth clenched as he felt the pain in her wrist himself.
“I cannot… not mine to take away… was only the source, am not the solution.” She cried softly. “Please, you are hurting me.” She pleaded.
He glanced down to her hand, pale even in the darkness. He considered its limpness, the lack of warmth in it. A pulsing shock was making his right eye twitch. The skin under his grasp was cool and soft. Slim fingers that held few calluses. He studied the paleness, not paying attention to the throb in his head.
She waited, held herself relaxed despite the fear that her bones would crumble to shards under his brutal hold. Tears flowed uninterrupted.
“Please Jayne… you are hurting me.” She said again, soft and frightened.
He flickered his attention back to her eyes, a cruel smile barely touched his mouth, “Now ya know what not knowin’ feels like… like it?” He asked, voice holding no sympathy at all.
“No, I do not… I have not had the sensory experience.” She replied, choking back more words. She felt the thickness of his fingers leaving impressions on her skin. Fingerprints that would be emblazoned in blue bruises. A small part of her thrilled to that idea, that finally someone could feel what she felt. The uncontrolled reaction to a perceived threat. She was processing why she had not responded in violent kind when he snarled and shoved her hand away from him.
She cradled her hand to her, felt the blood pool in the bruised tissues. She would be unable to use the hand for some days, bones were only barely not broken.
He grunted as he turned away from her. She lost the bright blue anchor of light reflected gazing into her and it hurt more than the pain in her abused wrist.
“Jayne…” She pleaded.
“Get away from me…” He rumbled, anger lashing out at her. The hulking body language of a frustrated bear radiated from him.
She fell back a step, rebounded and reached out with her uninjured hand, caught herself against him. His skin was hot and dry, softer than she expected. In a barest moment she felt like she was holding an ember of hottest coal. A powdery softness of volcanic tuff let her fingers glide over his shoulder to brush across the fine curls of hair on his chest. Without looking to her, he swiped an arm carelessly out, throwing her contact off.
“Ger’off me!” He muttered.
She retreated, tears still stinging her eyes as the blood returned to her hand, needles of pain tingled all through it.
~*~ ~*~
“Mei mei.. what happened?” Simon’s voice was worried and anxious when he saw her wrist the next morning. There were clear finger marks encircling her arm. Dark blue-black bruises had already formed. He knew that only happened in cases of severe trauma.
“Was investigating problematic lack of perceptions.” She answered calmly, hoping he would let it be. Instead he carefully reached out to lift her hand up for closer inspection.
“Who did this to you?” He asked angrily, knowing that there were few choices available, and really only one who would do such a thing.
“Irrelevant, pain is shared… universal. Damage done to one is felt by other.” River replied,.
“I don’t understand…?” Simon sounded flustered as he heard her words.
“He felt it… felt what I felt. Was aware of skin being burned, expanded knowledge outside of self.” River sounded distant, reflective even as her brother probed her wrist for broken bones. She ignored his ministrations, caught in thoughts of Jayne feeling what she had felt the night before.
“Mmmhmm…what’s that?” Simon distractedly responded to her words.
“Simon,” River caught her brother’s eye, “He did not mean to hurt me… Was reacting… triggered and unknowing…”
“I don’t understand mei mei… what triggered Jayne?” Simon was doing his best to not immediately go and confront the mercenary still in his infirmary.
“I did… I was investigating perceptual phenomena, discrepancies in actions and thoughts.. to much smoke, was blinded… wanted to see through.” River was earnest in her attempt to explain, but Simon was struggling to sort out her meaning.
“River, I…what happened?” He asked again.
“Thought there was an attack imminent, only explanation for response to stimulus.” Her expression smoothed as she determined the reason for Jayne’s reaction to her the night previous. “Threat perceived, responded according to natural instincts based on behavioral inputs.” Her eyes clear, smiling, River looked at her brother. He could see that she believed she had made a great breakthrough. Unfortunately, he was still not certain what had occurred except Jayne had held her wrist tightly enough to severely bruise it, nearly break it.
He needed to find out what was happening with the big man before he seriously injured someone. Before he triggered at something harmless.
~*~ ~*~
A crash of wood and metal informed Simon that he had been to late in solving the problem of Jayne. A man came flying out of an open doorway, headfirst, landing at the Doctor’s feet unceremoniously. The man did not move. Simon glanced quickly at the fallen form before pushing his way past a few onlookers crowded against the doorframe, peering into the bar.
Inside there was one large man swinging a stool around, sweeping three men down easily before tossing the furniture away and crouching, hands at the ready for the next wave. Usually Jayne had a feral grin on his face when he found himself in a tussle, but this time there was no such look. Simon, leaned in far enough to see that his sister was not present. A small sigh of relief at that. And then concern. The bar was fairly well stocked in Alliance soldiers, most looking like troops that had seen some action. This was no Border planet dive. Jayne was in the middle of a brawl with serious competition. And he was alone. None of the crew was there.
Simon spared a quick question to himself as to where the Captain and First Mate were. He vacillated over going into the bar to try and aid Jayne before chastising himself with the realization that there was nothing he could do there except get in the way, injured or killed. Possibly all three by Jayne himself judging by the severity of his attacks on the surrounding soldiers. With a last hesitant view, Simon’s blood ran cold as he recognized the calculation in Jayne’s eyes. He had only seen that once before, right before he had stopped River from shooting Mal in the Maidenhead. The man Simon knew as Jayne was not the man he was watching decimate the bar patrons.
He ran, ran as fast and as hard as he could to get back to Serenity, to find help for not Jayne, but the men Jayne was dispatching. Months after Miranda broke on the news troop presence had increased on all the strongly Allied planets. A job had taken them to Londinum and the Feds were thicker on the ground than flies on the Rim were. Simon dodged quickly between buildings and down alleys to get to the ship. Vaguely he noted that he had become quite adept at running and hiding and being a fugitive in the year since he had rescued his sister.
Nearly flying up the cargo ramp into the ship, Simon collided with Zoë who caught him in surprise.
“Whoa there Doctor, what’s got you by the tail?” Mal’s voice rang out from above as he came down the stairs.
Puffing, trying to catch enough breath to speak, Simon leaned his hands on his knees, bent double. Zoë looked over the young man’s shoulder’s to her Captain. Both cocked eyebrows questioningly.
“Jayne… Bar… fight… “ Simon gasped and swallowed hard, air still eluding him.
“That don’t sound to unusual Doc,” Zoë commented dryly.
Simon shook his head, beads of sweat sparkling in his hair. Zoë looked at Mal again, the Doctor really had been running hard.
Behind the three, River and Kaylee came on board, both laden with boxes filled with fresh produce. Kaylee wanted to sooth rattled nerves by making real food while they were docked on Londinum. None of them were really happy about being on a Core planet, but work was to be had and Inara had contacts that she could ply as a Licensed Advocate. Clients who had respected her as a Companion, and were aware of her potential to be a first class Advocate. After Miranda the need for that type of service had exploded.
Simon saw his sister, reached out to her. She saw his face, felt the frisson of fear across his nerves. Her eyes widened, panic pressed against her features. Abruptly she swung to Mal.
“Hurry! Must hurry before the fire unleashed burns all…” She dropped the box and grabbed Mal by the arm with her uninjured hand. He noted the bandage wrapped around her wrist for the first time. Before he could question, she had dragged him to the door.
“Hold on little witch, we ain’t just running out to be picked up by the first patrol we come across. Figuring it might tip them off if we all come runnin’.” Mal turned to Zoë and Kaylee, “Get the Mule prepped!”
“Time… no time to wait… Must hurry and descend to ride the wake.” River muttered as she let go of Mal and sprinted off the ship.
“RIVER!” Simon shouted, fear tinged voice.
Zoë’s hand on his arm silenced him, “Don’t worry we’ll catch up. No one in the ‘verse can stop your little sister when she gets to running like that.” Her voice was calm and purposeful. “Get the infirmary ready, we may well be needing it before the day is through.”
“My sister… she may…” He stuttered.
“No Doctor, I don’t think as she will.” Mal replied, “She ain’t the one we need to be worrying on right about now. ‘Sides she’s got herself sorted most times I conjure.”
“But… Jayne…” Simon started.
“Yep, that’s the one we got to be worrying on. Seems to me there is like to be a swath of destruction following him when we get there. Fair certain you ain’t got a safe word for that one.” Mal answered darkly. Everyone paused for an instant before moving into higher gear. Jayne without a stop button made them all edgy.
~*~ ~*~
River flew, feet barely touched the ground. Dust swirled in the wake of her skirts billowing around her legs as she ran. She knew where to go from Simon’s thoughts and as she neared the bar, the thoughts of the participants. Anger, fear, shock, bewilderment all confused in a hectic jumble. In the center an emptiness, a hollow core with nothing but acrid, bitter smoke. Jayne. She knew only he was there by his lack of presence. The bodies that littered the surroundings gave evidence to his physical actions. But no sense of him flooded her mind, his blanket smothered everything around him, blocked all sensations. That which she had begun to find comforting in its silence now scared her. The dull ache in her wrist reminded her how painful not knowing what he would do was.
She passed onlookers, slipped inside the maelstrom and a thrill passed up her spine. The dance he was engaged in was filled with passion and motion. Energy crackled around him as he brutally dropped, threw, struck at every movement. She caught his eye, he squinted hard lines, jaw clenched as he reached behind himself, over his shoulder and wrenched a man with a bludgeon up and over in front of him. His rigid gaze didn’t leave River’s as he spun the man by his head, twisting the exposed neck in a sickening crunch.
She drew her lips into a straight line, expression cool. Keeping her eye’s on Jayne, she spun a leg out sideways and upwards; attacker barreling in towards Jayne felt his chin snap up, the back of his head hit the wall. Jayne smirked cruelly, slamming his fist down on a shoulder, cracking an armor plate on the attacking soldier’s uniform. He finished the man by sweeping him sideways and launching the body over the bar.
River shifted left, kicked right dropping another man and scissored edged hands across the neck of a soldier left of her. Jayne responded quicksilver fast to two men approaching from either side; stepped half a pace back, reaching with long arms out and snapping the men’s heads together.
River sensed more troops would be coming, an alarm had gone up after the fight had proven to be more than just a friendly tussle. Jayne looked to be in no way done, as many men as were ranged against him, he struck down with varying levels of efficiency. Attrition through force. River surgically eliminated any within range, Jayne actually used one man’s body as a weapon by throwing or swinging him at other opponents. River calculated, Jayne decimated.
The whine of the Mule’s engines approaching tickled her senses. Jayne didn’t hesitate for an instant. Three more men were toppled by the crosswise use of a stool as a scythe. She vaulted one of the falling men, narrowly missing being caught in the sweeping wake of the stool. Closing the distance between them she slipped elastically up between Jayne and his grip on the remaining leg of the improvised weapon. Her body molded itself against his, left arm wove back from her shoulder to lay along his right. She nearly leapt back at the blast of repulsive energy, the inferno of heat that surrounded him. She could feel him clenching his muscles with her right arm wrapped around his torso. River kept his eyes fixed on hers by will. She saw him struggling to escape what held him in its violent embrace. His eyes were darkened, pupils dilated to hide most of the clear blueness of his eyes. He was seeing everything, responding to each movement as an attack. She held on, left hand curving around his wrist where he had nearly crushed hers not long ago.
“Stop… you must stop now.” She said clearly, her control ordered.
The bar was littered with fallen men, most groaning in pain, a few frighteningly silent. No one was approaching the pair locked in what appeared to be a death embrace.
He searched her face blankly, eyes passed over her smooth features looking for a threat to respond to. There was nothing. She was impassive, present.
“You must stop now.” She repeated. Her body pressed to his, painfully burning. Training to resist pain, to ignore pain reminded her that she could hold to him, keep him close to her and not show the fear that his explosion was causing her. She understood now why her brother feared her outbursts so much. This man she was affixed to was a mere breathe away from devastating both of them, from becoming death.
Alliance voices screamed in her head; the soldiers that lay scattered about cried out in anger and fear. A threat no one had ever expected to see had happened. River recognized with detached horror that the Academy had only selected dancers, gymnasts, intellectuals, gifted students because they could be harnessed in some way, were amenable to training and discipline by authority. Jayne was an unknown, uncontrollable variable. Her blood had infected his, their designs to make her more than what she was had created a weapon deadly even unto themselves.
And all she could feel from him was a thrumming rush of flame, crackling along his body, consuming all that would be thought and leaving nothing but a destructive inferno. Only stoppable when all the tinder was burned to ash, when the fuel that violence preys upon was expended.
She held on, praying to that unbelieved symbol, to the short fat man in his meditative pose, prayed that the others would come soon before he consumed her as well.
~*~ ~*~
It was Unification Day and he had figured to find the three of them, Zoë, Jayne and himself, in their usual state of injury after a U-Day tussle. Mal never expected to look at a destroyed bar and feel sympathy for those left on the floor and more for those who weren’t.
The big man had grunted a greeting as he brushed past Mal, barely avoiding rubbing shoulders with the stunned Captain. River shook her head when Mal turned to stop him. Her face was drawn and tight. Zoë gave him a brief pat on the shoulder, her silent way of telling him she would get them back to the ship where things could get sorted out later.
He surveyed the damage, the state of those left behind after River and Zoë had returned to Serenity with Jayne. He was chilled to the core at the sight. One man had been set on by more men than Mal could reasonably count. And Jayne had walked away, grim, silent, deadly. Mal had never figured Jayne to be anything but dangerous in a fight, but this was beyond what he had ever seen, except in the Maidenhead when the little Albatross had become an angel of violence.
There was nothing angelic about this ruin.