Ursa Major, Ursa Minor

Chapter Twelve:

A prickle of unease ran along River’s spine as she leaned back in the pilot’s chair. Dozing in the co-pilot’s seat, Jayne snored just a bit louder as he turned to face her. Unease forgotten, River contemplated her sleeping friend. The almost permanent frowning of his brow was eased in his slumber—smoothing out his forehead nicely to the point where he either looked younger or more his actual age (something River still wasn’t sure about).

The shadow of a beard was returning to his face and she couldn’t quite decide whether she liked his face better with or without the goatee.

River felt her unease drift away as another emotion replaced it. It was something that had been cropping up quite regularly for a while now. She couldn’t quite place it, but it made her feel like her heart was ready to explode out of her chest. She hated the sensation and loved it at the same time.

Her eyes traced the contours of Jayne’s face and decided that her brother was wrong.

Jayne was nothing like an ape.

River’s lips lifted slightly in a smile. For one, Jayne was entirely too handsome. Even when he was snoring. Her attention was drawn to his mouth at this thought, and naturally kissing was the first thing that came to mind.

Jayne…

His snores ended.

“…River?”

Her heart leapt into her throat. “Still here.”

Jayne rubbed the sleep from his jaw and pinned her with what Kaylee called “bedroom eyes.” “How far from Kerry are we?” he asked.

“Three more days,” said River. She checked the cortex for any news feeds that may be important—anything to keep her mind off those blue eyes of his.

Jayne groaned and gave a stretch that made a loud pop in his shoulder. River’s hyper-awareness of the merc practically screamed at the sounds he made. She wasn’t ignorant to sex—she’d spent enough of her “crazy-time” getting feeds off Wash and Zoë when they were at it in their bunk to know what sex was supposed to feel and sound like.

If he groans again, I don’t know what I’ll do… she squirmed in her seat.

“Ain’t you been sleepin’?” Jayne asked her—his voice still husky with sleep.

River tugged nervously on her sleeve. “No.”

He cleared his throat to rid it of the slight frog. “S’bad for ya, sweetheart. Need to sleep. I’ll watch the cortex—you take a gorram nap.”

Sweetheart… River gnawed on her lower lip at the thought.

Jayne stood from his seat and, without warning, lifted River by her waist and dropped her in his lap when he sat in her place. She was surrounded by his arms, muscle, scent, and warmth. The beating of his heart vibrated against her ear in a song as calming as the unknown song he played for her to dance to every night after dinner.

Before she realized it, River had fallen asleep with Jayne all around her.

*
Her dreams were usually full of painful memories of the Academy. This was different. Ensconced in a pair of strong arms with a vital heartbeat drumming comfortingly in her ear, River was at peace. For the first time in ages she felt nothing but serenity.

She dreamed of dancing with Jayne.

He wore his usual T-shirt and khakis and was letting her use the tops of his boots to dance atop. His hold was tight and welcoming and River pressed herself up against him to prolong the physicality of it all. Jayne was a very physical man and River had been missing that aspect of life for so long that she craved his touch. A hand on her shoulder, a tickle to her ribs, the warm embrace of dance…

She finds herself staring boldly into his eyes in her dream—losing herself in that sharp blue gaze in a way she was far to shy to do in the waking world. He may be part of a dream, but River can see what she’s been missing in his eyes. The affection he has for her.

She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t there before Miranda.

They stop dancing.

“What is it?” he asks her.

River still holds his bright eyes with hers and lets a smile overtake her face. Jayne smiles as well—looking much younger than normal. River resolves to remember to ask him about that when she’s awake.

“Honey, tell me what’s on yer mind.”

“You are on my mind, Jayne Cobb. I can’t understand it sometimes. My heart hurts sometimes when you’re around—just the sight of you twists my insides.”

His large hand cups her cheek and she can feel his thumb brush her zygomatic arch. The touch is so vivid that she wonders if he’s doing this to her in real life.

“That a bad thing?” he asks her.

River leans into his hand. “I have never felt these things before.”

She feels Jayne lean in closer—his breath was gliding across her brow like one of her Inara’s expensive silk scarves.

“Low down fluttery kinda feelin’, huh?”

And there it was.

The low rumble of Jayne’s voice shivers through her belly and his opposite hand rests low on the small of her back. River can feel the edges of his fingers almost on her backside.

Her face heats up.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

He’s speaking at least an octave lower than usual and River has to fight to open her now-heavy eyelids. Jayne’s eyes are so very blue and River is so very aroused. She doesn’t think it’s possible but it happens. Her clinical mind runs through the symptoms of rushing blood in her head and pressure between her thighs and the woman in her wantonly feels the need to act upon it.

So in her dream, River does. Eyes still wide open, she kisses Jayne hotly on the mouth.


TBC