Fic: Flight of Fancy
Title: Flight of Fancy
Author: Rinny
Rating: G
Pairing: River/Jayne (my first...but if aliaspiral and zoe_jayne have anything to say about it, not my last)
Warnings: SERENITY SPOILERS, very vague, cause River's crazy and if you haven't seen the movie, she'll just be making even less sense than usual.
Dedication: aliaspiral, thegranddewru, and Zoe_Jayne because if not for our little Writers Block Party last night, this likely would not be in existance. And Alia... I'm officially right now, yes?
~~
“Weren‘t wrong.”
Jayne startled where he stood in the kitchen, the knife he was using to cut the protein for the evening meal slicing into his thumb. “Gorramit girl! Can’t go on sneaking up on a fella!” He stuck his thumb in his mouth, sucking away the blood, glaring at her the entire time.
“Always thought you looked better in red,” she smiled prettily, gliding silently closer.
His grip on the knife tightened slightly, and he took a step back. “Ain’t wise, little girl.”
Tilting her head, her playful smile slipped into a confused frown as she stared him, and Jayne felt like she was slicing him down the middle and leaving him wide open. Probably was.
“Scared.”
“I ain’t scared ‘o nothing.,” he pointed with the knife.
“Scared of Reavers.”
She reached out, touched the tip of the knife with her finger and he jerked it away, fixing her with another glare. “Aint many of ‘em left once you were done.”
“Scared for Alia.”
He froze, anger lighting his eyes, “Where’d you hear that name?”
Smiling again, she tapped his chest, “Lives here. I like her. ”
“Ya don’t know her,” he growled, his fingers itching to push her away. “An’ I don’t like you gettin’ inside me!”
“Know her like you do. Thick, dark hair you used to wrap around your fist. Tasted like chocolate on your tongue. Her body made you whole. Stopped kissing after.”
“You stop that right now, girl. Or I swear I’ll--”
“She’s safe. Happy,” she pet his arm soothingly. “Don’t fear anymore.”
“I told ya, I ain’t scared. Now git, if you plan on eatin‘ tonight.” He shrugged out from under her touch, going back to the meal.
“Scared of Mal.”
She wasn’t even looking at him anymore, and somehow that was even worse. “Got no reason t’ be scared of the Captain. I could take ‘im in a fair fight.”
“Not scared of fighting. Scared of losing.” She shook her head, smiling faintly again, a wisp of hair drifting gracefully across her face.
“Told ya, I wouldn’t lose.” He growled, hating it when she talked in circles.
“Already did. On Ariel. Fought so hard to get it back. Scared he’ll take it away again.”
He narrowed his eyes, “Had about enough of this. I gotta go get your dumbass brother to drag you away from here?”
“No need to fear. Captain Tightpants doesn’t know what you planned for the River-bird.” She gave him another disconcerting smile, her eyes wide and innocent looking right through him, and he didn’t gorram like it. “Thinks you were overpowered by the ninety pounds. Not your fault.”
He grunted.
“Can’t sneak up on a reader. She knows.” She chastised, grinning at him. “Knows you’re scared of her.”
“I ain’t scared of you, girl!” He growled pointing the knife at her again. “Get that through your ruttin’ head.”
“Scared she’s mad. Wont love you anymore.” She slid her finger along the blade of the knife, and if he just so much as flicked it, would draw blood. He held still. “She had to love you to begin with. Not just pheromones, dancing on a knife edge. Pieces broke, they only fit sometimes. But not like they used to.”
He carefully reached out and grasped her wrist, moving it away from the knife and continuing to glare at her, but couldn’t seem to put the venom back in his words. “Don’t need no lovin’, least of all from you.”
“Still scared of River-bird,” she sang, those knowing eyes gliding over his body and staring straight at his chest, and damned if his heart didn’t seem fit to burst from it. “Tried to break her, but she understands. All for one.”
His hand is shaking so he puts the knife down.
“Learned the rest, so she forgives and loves better now. Like a girl should.”
She dances away, and is almost out the door before he stops her. “Wait. River.” Her name falls raw and clunky from his lips, and she turns her head sharply to meet his eyes. “What’s the rest?”
She leaves, the flutter of her dress lingering in the doorway with her voice. “One for all.”