"Taste this."
"I ain't your guinea pig," Jayne mumbled, reaching across in front of River. He grabbed the spoon sticking out of the strange sauce before them, sticking it quickly in his mouth. A low grunt, and he held the spoon back out toward her. "Terrible."
"Lies," she replied, taking the spoon back from him with a wrench.
"No use fibbin' with a little witch hangin' around," he grumbled in concession. He exited the kitchen, nearly bumping shoulders with Simon on the way out. "Gotta say, Doc, the go se you churn out back there sure is tastin' a lot better since you got yourself a little helper."
"Assistant," River corrected, adding precisely what Jayne had been thinking the sauce needed.
"Yeah, well, hurry up the assistin', we got a powerful need t' eat out here." Jayne threw himself down into one of the mismatched chairs, propping booted feet up on the table and leaning back. Simon screwed his eyebrows down, staring incredulously at the back of Jayne's head.
"Have I missed something? Are you being civil?" He looked over his shoulder to River, who was giving owl-eyes to the both of them. "I have been paying attention and Jayne has always been a mindless brute, hasn't he?"
"That's me," Jayne replied, reaching for his drink and throwing his head back.
"Food ready yet?" Zoe asked as she walked with her long stride into the galley.
"Nearly," Simon answered, glancing up as Kaylee entered through the opposite door.
"Evenin' all!" Kaylee said cheerfully as she pulled out the chair next to Jayne and sat in it. She swept his feet off the table with her elbow, and his boots slammed to the floor. "No feet on the table, Jayne." He pouted in his Jayne way, but the mechanic was unrelenting. Zoe sat across from Kaylee, smirking slightly.
"Cap'n and Wash on their way?" Kaylee asked. Zoe nodded.
"And the Shepherd?" she bounced back.
"Reading with Inara," River responded as she emerged from the kitchen holding a steaming pot of something. Jayne threw down one of his gloves as a hot pad, taking another long drink. He peered over the edge of the pot as it was set down in front of him, curling a sneer with ease.
"We gonna eat that?" He asked just as Mal and Wash joined them. Wash kissed his wife once on the temple, then took the seat beside her. Mal sat as usual at the head of the table, offering a smug smirk.
"The one job we get enough money to pay for gas and some real food for a change, Jayne goes and finds something t' gripe about." River placed a basket of fresh, hot rolls before the captain, then took her seat on Jayne's other side. Simon shot the merc a suspicious look as he complimented River's thick sauce with long, thin noodles swimming in hot water. He doled out a thick knot of pasta onto River's plate, then his own.
"Please, start without us," Inara's voice came. She was followed by Shepherd Book as they finally entered and sat beside Wash.
"If you insist," Wash countered, grinning.
All of the plates were passed down to Simon, who gave each their share of the pasta, then to River, who levered dollops of her odoriferous sauce onto it. After they'd all been given their shares, Simon sat, and Mal began passing the rolls. Jayne held one in his mouth and took a second for good measure, handing the basket off to River. The girl copied his movements, one roll held firmly in her teeth and another in her hand as she passed the basket to Simon.
The talk was as it had always been. Wash told the jokes between the anecdotes of the Shepherd and Mal, alternately. Mal's tended to have less of a moral than did the preacher's, and both had a way of sending the crew into painful laughter. Jayne often tried to slide the occasional dirty joke in under the radar, but the combined pressure of the Shepherd's glare and Kaylee's foot kicking him harshly under the table had a way of deterring him. The food--real food--was the best they'd had in quite some time. Simon gave all the credit to River, who seemed to know exactly what the recipe asked for without even looking.
They were thankful for the release. With the surplus of coin, they'd be able to fly for a while without taking on any dangerous jobs. It gave them a time to wind down, to see each other again. To smile again.
Once the food was gone, the drink made its way around the table. Jayne pulled out an unlabeled bottle of who-knew-what, took a swig, and handed it off to Mal. It made its way around, passed up by the Shepherd and the companion. Wash was brave, taking a short drink and immediately regretting it. He coughed and sputtered, waving a hand about in front of his face as if that might help. Zoe smacked the flat of her hand against her husband's back, and he eventually stopped floundering. Jayne muttered something along the lines of "Baby..." and the drink went along. Zoe raised her eyebrow, wary now, seeing what it was capable of.
"What exactly is this, Jayne?"
"Firewater," he answered vaguely with a grin. Zoe shrugged, tipped the bottle back and nearly coughed it back up. But she kept it down, thumping a fist against her chest with knitted eyebrows. Simon was quick to surrender his turn, holding his hands up as if the drink would attack him. River snatched the bottle up, bringing it to her nose and sniffing. Simon reached out.
"River, I don't think--"
"Simon had his chance," she said, sticking her tongue out at him. She sniffed at the drink again. Jayne's grin only widened, looking from the doctor to his sister.
"Let her try it--might straighten her crazy out some."
"Her condition isn't--"
River cut him off by tilting her head back in exactly the same fashion as Jayne, taking a big gulp and swallowing the piquant liquid. Her brown eyes widened slightly, then settled into normalcy. Simon's face had gone pale.
"It tastes like fire," she muttered, looking at the bottle. She then looked up at Jayne, who seemed mighty impressed. A slow, wide grin snaked over her lips. The merc could only raise his eyebrows in response.
"That's enough for you," he muttered as he took back his bottle and took a protective drink, holding the bottle close.
"Jayne, that was irresponsible," the Shepherd started, looking ready to stand and care for the girl himself. Jayne shrugged nonchalantly.
"Gotta try it sometime, don't she?"
"No, she doesn't," Simon bristled, pulling his sister close with an arm around her shoulders. She shook with silent laughter, eyes still locked on Jayne. The merc leaned forward, pointing his half-eaten roll at Simon pointedly.
"Look, you rather I let her have that little drink outta my bottle on my watch, or have her go raidin' the ship's supply?" He topped off the bottle, smacking his lips and returning to his train of thought. "My pa always used t' tell me 'Give someone a window t' climb through in case the door's locked. Y' board up the window and the door's locked, he's gonna end up smashin' that window t' get in.' ... Am I makin' any sense, Doc, or that face a' yours always look so stupefied?"
"I'm just letting it sink in," Simon uttered in mock-awe. "You used a metaphor. Knowingly used a metaphor."
"Don't get your pants all knotted up," he grumbled. He nodded at River. "She gonna be all right? She looks kinda loopy--more'n usual, I mean."
All eyes fell on River, who still held the wide, snaky grin, shoulders shaking in laughter. Kaylee was up, nudging Jayne out of the way and holding hands on River's shoulders.
"River, honey, you all right?"
"The fire tickles," she giggled. She held her hands to her mouth suddenly as a bright gale of laughter escaped her. Simon was suddenly standing, glaring down at Jayne.
"This is your fault," he snarled as politely as possible. Jayne remained seated.
"Girl's the one that drank it. Didn't see me put the gorram thing to her lips, did ya?"
"I was about to tell you that alcohol could easily aggravate her condition--don't stand up, River--and it was never in your power to even suggest that my sister--"
"Simon is too loud," River muttered as she held hands to the sides of her head. Despite the show of aggravation, she continued to smile and laugh. Kaylee looped the girl's arms around her neck and carried her into the lounge. Once there, she sunk into a chair and curled her knees up to her chest. She giggled again, and fell into humming a tune that Kaylee didn't know. Jayne's ears perked up, and he turned his head slightly, but was still in the middle of being berated by the entire table.
Most had excused themselves and Zoe turned the lights down as she left the room. Only four of them were left--River in the chair, Kaylee crouched sleepily on the ground beside her, Simon checking his sister's vitals, and Jayne cleaning up the dinner mess. After the alcohol debacle, the others had voted him kitchen duty, and with all eyes on him, he had to concede. With most of the dishes done, grudgingly, he glared up as Simon approached.
"She's stable now, besides the humming." He shook his head. "This is your mess; you get to fix it."
"I'm already cleanin' up all of your mess," Jayne countered, gesturing to the pile of clean dishes.
"My father used to tell me," Simon ignored him, "that you finish what you start, and clean up after yourself. You've made a mess of my sister."
"She was a mess t' start with," Jayne muttered under his breath.
"I'm making sure Kaylee gets to bed. She stays up too long when she's worried. I'm taking her to the infirmary to give her a mild sedative. You," Simon pointed a finger at the center of Jayne's chest, "make sure my sister doesn't fall out of that chair or try to go anywhere."
Jayne's mind was torn between 'You ain't the boss of me' and the simple 'Make me' but he decided on neither. He threw the dishrag down, scowled, and moved into the lounge. Once there, he continued to scowl, crossed his arms, and sat heavily down into the seat beside River. Simon helped Kaylee to her feet and began ushering her toward the bow.
"I'll be back," Simon stated, glaring down his nose at Jayne.
A good, silent minute later, River's eyes blinked open, and she looked over at Jayne. His arms were still crossed.
"You done hummin' then?" he asked.
She smiled again. "Our song." She turned in the large, comfortable chair. "The fire danced inside me, made me think silly things. Better now, I think." She tried to move her legs out from under her.
"Doc says t' stay put," he told her. He didn't like referring to Simon as a higher authority, but she tended to listen to him.
"So very, very tired," she groaned, tucking into herself. She peeked over her shoulder at him again. "Jayne should be a gentleman and take her to bed."
He practically fell out of his chair, but righted himself in time. "What? I ain't..."
She giggled. "My bed." A long yawn, skinny arms stretched before her. "Jayne is strong, can heft her like cargo."
"Doc said..."
Her eyes got that dewy look she liked to use. "Please?"
He knew he was useless against that look, and he rolled his eyes to retain his dignity. She fit easily in his arms, leaning her head against his chest. She tucked so familiarly in, like she knew how his contours complimented hers.
"Just once, then no more free rides, got it?" He told her as he started off toward the stairs. She nodded against his shirt.
"Not your fault. The window was open."
He took the stairs slowly, thinking over her statement. She knew too much about him, way too much, but this time it didn't seem to bother him so much. He glanced down at the top of her head, then back to his path. The passenger bunks were just ahead.
Her bed was made, and he wasn't sure if he should undo it or not. So he set her down on top of the sheets and the blanket with a fluff of fabric. She snuggled the pillow close to her face, then glanced up as he hovered in uncertainty. He wondered if there was a right thing to do--a tucking in, a nighttime farewell, a story--
"A story," she repeated. Her eyes were clear and focused. "Tell me a story, Jayne."
A pause. "What, right now?"
She smiled a sleepy smile. "Yes."
A worried look furrowed on his brow, and he hunkered down to sit on the edge of her bed. She tucked her knees closer to allow him room. He glanced down questioningly, to see if she was serious. She nodded, her most serious face present. He shrugged in return.
"Hell, most of the stories I know end up with me killin' someone or breakin' somethin' off 'a someone, or stealin'--"
"About Little Jayne, Ma and Pa," she urged.
"Ain't told no one on this boat 'bout my parentals," he muttered. "Like my pa used to say--"
He didn't get to say anything else. River had stopped his lips with her own, sitting up to meet him. It was short, too short, and she pulled back too quickly. It left him shocked and confused, blinking at her with a single raised eyebrow. She stared right back, eyes big and bright, awaiting judgement. She was waiting, he suddenly realized, for him to say or do something. He tried to think of the most intelligent, thoughtful thing he could possibly say at that moment. All that came out was:
"Huh." The optimism in her eyes dimmed at that one little noise. He tried to correct himself by adding words. "What was that for?"
She took her time to think as well. "Lots of words jumble in her head, bouncing off of each other. Smart words, words that Simon doesn't know. She can pull out all the words she wants whenever she wants." She raised one hand, grazing the side of his face. "Not with Jayne. All the words disappear. Why does Jayne make the words disappear?"
At that moment, he could sympathize with River. Then again, he never really had many words in the first place. And when situations got this uncomfortable, he was usually the first one out. "I gotta--"
She broke him off again, letting herself sink upward to him and just flat-out kiss him. She felt a jolt go through him, and then he was hers. That hand anchored on his cheek pulled him close, and in a fluid movement she sat up to angle herself just right to compliment him. She pulled back, just for a moment, just to catch her breath.
The look she saw then in Jayne's eyes stuck with her for a very, very long time. She'd never seen anyone use that look before, and somehow knew she'd never know anyone else to use it. It was something he'd kept in reserve a little too long from the look of it. She might have gasped if it'd surprised her more. A look like that said one thing and one thing only:
He needed her.
All she knew after that was the feel of his hand gripping the hair at the back of her neck and bringing her back into him.
Even if he was more experienced than she was, he wasn't a psychic. She read every move subconsciously, moving exactly where he needed her to be. When he begged her mouth open, she obeyed. When she pressed boldly forward, mashing him between her and the wall, he submitted. When big hands felt the curve of her back, she shivered. He kissed her again and again, inhibitions and airlocks be damned. With a steadying hand on his chest, she pulled fully away at last. Jayne didn't seem to like the idea very much.
"Ta ma de," he groaned at once, her hand on him keeping him from advancing again. He inspected their predicament from a new angle, calming only slightly. "How in the gorram hell did y' do that?"
"Do what? What has she done?"
"Y' drank that firewater and y' still taste like peppermint," he admitted, looking at her lips. Glancing back at her eyes, he raised one eyebrow. "Just want t' know how you did it."
A bright smile took her face, and she was suddenly clung mush to him, arms wrapped around his neck and embracing him tightly.
"Doesn't work for Jayne," she said to his ear. "Still tastes like alcohol." She paused, watching his face for any change. She cocked her head slightly, looked to the door, then perked up. "Simon is coming."
"What?" Jayne sat straight up in her embrace, nearly jolting her off of him. "Damn, I bet he's hot on my tail--I'm s'posed t' be watchin' you back upstairs." He looked her over once. "Gotta scoot. He gets Mal after me and I'm out that air lock, and personally, I'd rather be on this side--"
"You have 2 minutes, 37 seconds," she told him, a hand gentle on his cheek. "Take the route through the cargo bay, snake back to the galley. Tell Simon I fell asleep, you returned me to my bed. He cannot punish Jayne for that."
He paused, just watching for those spare seconds he had, before taking off quickly through the door and shutting it behind him. Wiping any remnants of her the doctor might spy from his lips, he rolled his shoulders. "Peppermint," he mumbled, stumbling over thoughts he oughtn't have about a girl as young as she. "Gorram... little..."
AN: That was way more fun than it should have been. I hope you guys've had as much fun with this series as I have! There is a sequel being plotted in my mind; a series of oneshots all piled together in a single story. Keep your eyes open, if you liked this stuff! I hope I finished this out all right, but I do believe this was the sense to leave for last. And it's the longest, jeez... Anyway, thanks for following me this far, and I hope to see y'all again! Cheers!