Jayne buried his head in his hands and groaned. His fist was throbbing from that last punch he'd just thrown at Serenity's hull in his bunk. But the pain was nothing to the utter frustration he was feeling inside. Emotionally he was, he realised, totally fucked.
She had screwed him good and proper and now, he knew, he had no choice. Every part of him was screaming for him to leave the ship. Go after the gorram Feds. Kill them, kill anyone – do anything he had to - to find her.
It held no monetary value, nothing. No gain for him, except the promise of her body. If she was still alive. But he couldn't even consider that possibility. And he knew, he was beyond rational thought by the point. She had done her work on him well.
It had started all so long ago. Not innocently, of course, but Jayne never did anything innocently. It had been that short time after they had realised she had some kind of powers, after Jubal Early's visit. After that Mal'd never allowed her to be left alone. There was always someone'd have to be with her. So they took turns.
Inara, when Jayne, Mal and Zoe'd been on that job in Constance. Kaylee that time when Simon had had to fix up that knife wound one of Ott's boys had done to Jayne's arm.
But then, sooner or later, it had been his.
Ithad been a time when they'd been taking a break on a small farming terraform just a week out of Persephone. River had wanted to go walking by the lake, so Jayne had been assigned babysitter. He had followed along behind her, dragging his boots and grimacing like a petulant child. She had merely looked at him occasionally with that gorram spooky mixture of threat, sweetness and amusement, her skirts blowing in the wind.
Turned out however that the terraform also sported a gang of scavengers who'd not long been marooned there due to their ship crashing. Jayne heard them approaching, and soon had a gun on one of 'em and a fist on another. But they'd just been too many. Hours later they'd woken up, him and her, their hands tied, in the remains of their ships' bridge. The men'd started pumpin' for info on Serenity.
Things had been lookin' bad enough at that point. But when the girl had started to shriek about the blue hands, Jayne had known they were really in trouble. The scavenger chief heard the screams of his men by the lookout post, and soon headed off with a gang to find out what was going on.
But there was nuthin' anyone could do to stop the hands. Suffice to say, they never came back. Jayne n' River'dbeen alone.
Jayne'd done what he was best at. Saved his skin. He saw an opening in the hull, picked himself up, and went for it. Nervously, she followed, and soon the pair were holed up, standing close, in a gap between the inner and outer hull, their hands still tied behind their backs. Jayne meanwhile had managed to find a sharp which he had begun to rub against the binds around his wrist.
He had stopped however when he had heard the sound of footsteps back in the hold outside. Her eyes had widened, and she had begun to mutter as she panicked, the tears streaming out of her dark eyes.
"Shut up, moonbrain," he had hissed. The footsteps had hesitated, listening. But she had continued to gasp as she reached for breath, such was her fear.
And then it had begun. Jayne's eyes had looked around for a means to quieten her. His hands were tied. But he had to quieten her. He had heard the screams from the scavenger gang, the terror in their voices.
But there was nuthin'. And his hands were tied. He was desperate.
So, to gag her, he had pressed his mouth to hers.
Immediately she had quietened, perhaps due to shock. But for a good couple of minutes they stood alongside each other, lips pressed, their chests heaving. Their ears attuned to any sound – any – outside.
The footsteps had come closer. Jayne had felt a trickle of sweat run down his face. But also, as he stood there, a shock of electricity went down his spine. The fear was combining with his natural instincts. And he could smell her all around him.
He hoped to god she wouldn't react as he felt himself harden. He knew that there was no way she couldn't feel it. His groin was pressed up against her thigh.
But sure enough, within moments he felt her push ever so slightly away from him with her body. Her breathing became more rapid. But she made no sound.
But he was far from prepared for what she did next. Perhaps due to shock, he had never known – she had raised herthigh and used it to startstroking himthrough his pants. His eyes had widened, his muscles had tensed. He had hardly dared breathe. And then, she had allowed her tongue to slip from between her lips, and had started to rub it slowly across his own.
Outside, the footsteps were only feet away.
For what seemed like an age, they did not move. She continued however to move her leg against his groin, and rub her wet mouth against his own, tightly pressed lips. His eyes started to roll in his head. The mixture of fear and pleasure was beginning to push him to his limits. For as much as every part of him was screaming to run away, get away from them gorram blue-hands and those screams - just as much of him what also urging him to slip his own tongue against hers.
But finally, the footsteps started again, and moved away. A minute passed, maybe two.
And then, with a swift, silent movement, he had pressed his tongue into her mouth, and pulled down her panties. She had kissed him, urgently. Then, ripping off his wrist binds, he undid his fly, and pushed inside her, forcing himself to remain quiet as he felt her slide easily around him. She had also remained totally silent, save for the fast exhale of breath she had allowed herself as he had entered her.
He had no idea if it was the relief as the danger passing, or some other subconscious urge that they were playing out, but as they rocked together in between the hull walls he felt his whole body surge with exhilaration. By this time his eyes were looking straight into hers. But hers were challenging, almost willing him to fuck her harder. So he had obliged.
Jayne had never been a one for sensitivity, but even he wondered momentarily if he was being too rough with her, as he pinned her arms back against the curving wall and thrust his whole length inside her. But she just carried on looking at him with those dark eyes, only occasionally rolling them back with what he was certain was raw pleasure. So he carried on, picking up his pace.
Presently he allowed himself a small moan as he felt the familiar first few pulses of orgasm grip him. But just as he did so, she pressed her arm against his mouth to quieten him. Her eyes continued to look deep into his.
The result was the most intense experience, as he came inside her, making not a noise save for the quiet creak of the hull in rhythm with his thrusts. The pulses in his groin seemed to go through his entire body, even through his skull. All during which she also said nothing, but simply arched her back and shuddered in a way he knew had had also brought her off. And then, as their breath had returned to them, he had pressed his forehead into her shoulder, utterly exhausted.
After that, she had simply pulled away from him, tidied herself, stepped back into the hold, and turned to face him, expectantly.
Her eyes told him: we have to go, tell the others about the hands. Get out of here.
There was no hint that the last few minutes had happened at all, in her face. In fact, he saw, herskin was barely flushed. His, on the other hand, was red. He was gasping with the exertion, his legs weak, his eyes struggling to focus. But she had started to pull at his shirt, urgently. He had recovered himself to a degree, and then with her run back to the ship as fast as his shaken body could go.
And after that, there had been nothing. Serenity had powered into the black, and she had returned to her room, and for at least the next few days, there had been normality. But not within Jayne.
Whereas before he had felt little but vague annoyance at her presence – now, whenever she entered the room, he felt a surge of excitement. He stared at her, his breathing quickened. He was transfixed by her, and what she had done to him. How she had made him feel. He had never had a woman make him lose himself like that.
She on the other hand, seemed no different. In fact, she barely looked at him. As the days passed, he began to be consumed by rage and confusion. But most of all, lust.
All she had said, in passing in the corridor one night, as he had felt the flames throb though his body at the very scent of her, had been teasing. "The moth don't care when he sees the flame…" she had whispered, in a breathy tone, her eyes flickering with a wild delight as she saw his chest heave.
There had been games after that. He had found her once in the galley, alone. Instantly the blood pumped into his heart as his whole body went onto alert. She has been standing against the units, slowly unpacking food tins from a box.
It was late, but not that late. There had been others around. But the madness that had started within him back on that burnt out ship demanded action. She had pretended to ignore him as he had moved around and caught her from behind, and pulled her hips into his. Within seconds his hands were grasping at his fly and the fabric of her clothes.
He had bent her over, pushed inside her. Again, she had said nothing, save for a small moan. But the ease in which he entered her told him she had been waiting for him. Hoping. He had started to move against her, quickly, one eye on his dark hand that was pressing against her ivory thigh, the other at the galley entrance.
Again, it was only moments after he had come that she had pulled away from him, given him a knowing smile, and then skipped away through into the corridor. Again, leaving him gasping for air, sweat on his brow. When Mal had wandered in only seconds later he had caught the merc a strange look. Jayne had been forced to say he had overdone his workout. But even as he had said it, his mind had already been wondering about where he would find her next. How next she would want him to fuck her, and how.
Normally after he had come he felt calmer, more settled. But as the weeks went on, and with them their meetings, he found he was feeling more and more unsatisfied. The only time he felt free of his desire for her, was in those few seconds that came after his orgasm. But minutes later, he would want her again. But she made him wait.
After a time he started to seek her out. But she seemed to enjoy this even more. Over the weeks, their encounters became more frequent still. Whereas it had been once a week, it had soon become each day. And then, a few times a day. Wherever he could find her. However.
He knew they were taking ridiculous risks. But he was obsessed with her. He didn't care as long as she made him shudder and groan. He fucked her in the hold, behind a wall of cargo boxes as Mal and Zoe chatted across the other side of the room. She had bitten his fingers to try and make him yell. But it had only added to it, as he kept it inside.
He fucked her on the bridge, when Wash had stepped away for only minutes to fetch a drink. One night he even came to her room and fucked her on the floor while her brother slept in the next room, only feet away. He had held her arms down and pushed against her, as she squirmed beneath him.
And every time she stared at him with those dark, challenging, but exhilarated eyes, that seemed to both plead for more - while question whether he was capable. It drove him mad.
Which is why, as Jayne now stood in his bunk, aware she had been taken from him finally by the Feds – snatched in Persephone while their backs were turned – he knew that only death would prevent him from finding her, holding her,and fucking her again. She had used his weakness against him in the most calculating way, he knew, to gain herself such a loyal protector.
An obsessed, consumed, loyal protector.
He slammed his fist into the wall one more time before grabbing Vera from her locks. Serenity was already on the trail, but he knew that of all of them, he was going to be the one who got her back.
She belonged to him.