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Ursa Major, Ursa Minor
folder
1 through F › Firefly
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
34
Views:
8,802
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
1 through F › Firefly
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
34
Views:
8,802
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I do not own Firefly, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
I Could Have Danced All Night
Chapter Seven:
River was on cloud nine. She’d never been there before, but this had to be what it was like. Jayne was twirling her about like a feather against a gale force wind. She was fluttering, laughing, and actually enjoying herself for once.
It was the first time she’d danced without a care since Jiangyin… Right before Simon was kidnapped by the hill folk (and then she’d followed and was very nearly burnt at the stake).
It was also the first time she’d danced with someone she’d felt so comfortable with.
Jayne laughed and made River flicker across the floor again. Her feet were already hurting, but she could care less. This was the most fun she’d had on any job.
The clock struck 1900, but all eyes were on River and Jayne.
Perfect. Now we just have to keep this up until 2200!
*
Mal slid a crate full of weaponry across the slick stone floor—Zoë was just a few feet behind him with about three paintings underneath each arm. He could practically hear her mental cursing about the heels she was wearing. On the patio outside, Kaylee and Simon were loading up the first run of loot on the mule.
There were two more loads to do after this one.
“Jayne had better appreciate these guns,” Mal whispered harshly.
Kaylee, who was decked out in her darker coveralls and had her hair tucked under one of Jayne’s hats, grinned so hard against the night sky that her captain swore her face started glowing like Serenity during a full burn. “Him and River are splittin’ ‘em up together. Nara said they had a game of rock, paper, scissors over the last one. Some kinda shotgun.”
Simon helped Mal tie down the bulky crate. “Great,” he murmured sarcastically. “More guns.”
Kaylee shrugged as she helped Zoë load the paintings. “One of ‘em’s even bigger’n Vera!”
“Again. Great.”
“I think it’s shiny fer Donna to let us keep the guns,” Kaylee added.
“Gotta say,” Zoë smirked, “it’ll sure cheer Jayne up after havin’ to get all fancified. He’s even crankier than normal ‘cause of all this.”
*
The music ended and applause took its place. River curtsied delicately beside Jayne, her hand still clasped in his. The tall mercenary bowed as well and smiled genially at the host of the party—a man of similar stature with graying hair and smile lines deep as ditches.
“Wonderful performance, young sir!”
Jayne tilted his head, “Thank you, sir.”
“I would ask for a dance with your partner here, but she appears to need to rest her feet.”
Jayne couldn’t agree more. “True. Why don’t we rest a bit, Vera?”
River’s surprised expression was momentary, but she nodded regardless. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Jayne snagged two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one as they followed the host to one of the free tables. He pulled out a chair for River and sat in the empty one beside her.
River drained her glass of champagne. “Sir Whilton, James and I were planning on performing a tango later. We are practicing for a ballroom tournament that’s being held on Osiris this upcoming weekend and we were hoping to use your party as an opportunity to stretch our leg muscles, so to speak.”
Sir Whilton smiled in approval. “Why, absolutely. Rest your feet—I’ll ask the band to prepare an appropriate piece of music to play for you.”
“Thank you, Sir Whilton,” Jayne saluted the old man with his champagne flute.
Whilton saluted in return and vanished through the crowd to talk to the musicians.
“How’re the feet?” Jayne asked, finally downing his entire drink.
“They hurt,” River admitted, “but it is immaterial.”
The clock chimed once to indicate the passing of the half hour.
Jayne smiled. “The others should be done by now.”
River grinned widely and dropped her aching feet onto Jayne’s thigh. “I have decided something.”
Absently, he pulled her heels off and began to rub the arches of her feet. “Hmm? What’s that?”
“I will let you use the XM-26 on every other job.”
His grin widened.
Sir Whilton leaned over Jayne’s shoulder and clapped the younger man on the back. “Son, your song starts as soon as you signal the conductor.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jayne nodded and squeezed both of River’s feet in one hand. “Are you ready, Vera?”
River tugged her shoes on and kissed Jayne’s cheek. “I’m ready, James.”
Still in character (though that kiss nearly broke it), Jayne helped River to her feet and removed his tailored jacket—leaving him in his crisp white shirt and dark red waistcoat. After reviewing the tango with River just before disembarking he found the less restricted he was with unfamiliar clothing, the smoother he moved.
River moves like her name no matter what she’s wearin’.
A thin pale hand alighted on his shoulder just as he thought this. “You move like a big cat,” she whispered. Jayne blushed.
He shook it off and clicked his fingers at the conductor.
This is gonna be hard…
The answering grin was downright sinful.
As the music swelled to it’s proper starting point, River and Jayne took their (very close) positions and draped their hands onto each other in a half-lazy, half-promising manner. And suddenly, Jayne’s musing about the dance being hard was not too far off the mark.
He was half-thankful and half-regretful as the restricting material of his trousers trapper his inevitable erection in one of the most uncomfortable positions. It was painful, but at least no one would really be able to see it.
River executed a complicated, clingy move that pressed her entire body against his and Jayne swore his heart gave out. Her right leg hooked around to rest tightly against the middle of his backside and she pushed up with her opposite foot to press hard on his groin.
Oh, go se.
Remembering the steps, he dipped her low and dropped his forehead between her breasts—his labored breath blew hotly across the dark red fabric and he could see the distinct outline of her nipples. She shivered against him and had to focus herself on the dance.
They both prowled across the polished floor as the tango became a sort of mating dance—they flashed their colors, flaunted their assets, and held one another so close that it was a wonder neither of them suffocated.
All in all, it was such an arousing display that Sir Whilton and his entire guest party forgot entirely about the tour they were going to take later of the mansion.
The song ended far too soon for Jayne’s liking and left him and River breathing erratically beneath Sir Whilton’s old-fashioned chandelier.
The onlookers applauded—a few broke out of their stiff-upper-lip-edness long enough to give a few wolf whistles. Sir Whilton himself was clapping his hands together enthusiastically and grinning from ear to ear with a hot red flush burning his cheeks.
“I say, if the pair of you do that for your tournament dance, you will win hands down.”
Jayne forced himself to smile and fought the urge to excuse himself to the men’s room to take care of his problem. Unbeknownst to him, River was fighting the same temptation.
Their only other option was…
“Do you think we could have a few bottles of champagne to celebrate?” they both asked.
Sir Whilton laughed heartily.
*
Mal finished stowing their recently acquired cargo and bellowed for someone to check the time. Inara popped out of her shuttle and gave him her very best “calm-the-hell-down” stare.
“It’s 2245, Mal. They’re not back yet?”
He stared at her as she descended the stairs. She was wearing his favorite dress—the teal one with long sleeves and a pattern on the front that reminded him of one of his mother’s quilts. “No,” he managed to squeak out, “haven’t seen hide nor hair of those two since we left ‘em in the ballroom.”
Inara stopped in front of him. “Were they having fun?” she asked with her pixie grin.
“Well… Yeah.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Mal scratched the back of his neck (free of the constricting cravat). “Well, nothin’ per say, but I wanna get the hell off this rock and get rid of my cargo.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he heard singing coming from the direction of the gangplank. Loud singing. Drunk singing.
“…we took from the rich an’ we gave ta the poor!”
“Stood upta th’ man an’ we gave ‘im what for!”
River and Jayne were stumbling together (two open bottles of champagne between them) singing at the tops of their lungs. Somewhere along the way back from Sir Whilton’s estate River’s hair had fallen out of its up-do and Jayne’s entire outfit had been put into disarray. His shirt was undone to the middle of his chest, his bowtie hung limply out of his pants pocket, and his neatly combed hair was pointing out in every direction.
He was carrying River’s heels and another bottle of champagne in his free hand.
River was dragging him toward the ship with hers—her tiny fingers were yanking on one side of his waistcoat.
Mal gave his best impression of a flycatcher.
“Captain!” River shouted. She waved her bottle of champagne at him and tugged on Jayne again as he tried to remember how to shut the airlock with both hands full.
“River? Are you drunk?” Mal asked.
River giggled and sagged against Jayne once the hydraulics in the doors kicked in. “Maybe a little,” she admitted.
Jayne (somehow) snagged her bottle away from her loose hand and held it out for Mal to take. His extreme drunkenness seemed to lessen a bit as soon as the Londinium crowd noise was cut off by Serenity’s bulkhead. “She ain’t that drunk, Mal. We’s just foolin’ around. Lettin’ Whilton think we were some kind fancified Core ballroom dancers—he liked us so much he didn’t even notice that you ‘n Zoë were long gone.”
River nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. We can leave slowly for once.”
Mal let out a gushing, relieved sigh. “Fine. Jayne, you go make this girl a cup of coffee and sober up a bit so we can get back to the black.”
Jayne grinned lopsidedly and saluted Mal with the hand holding River’s shoes and the champagne bottle. “Sure thing, Cap.”
He shoved both open bottles into Mal’s hands as he strode purposefully to the galley with
River (who was laughing) under one arm. Mal looked flummoxed for a moment, but it passed when Inara took one of the bottles from him.
She took a swig, smiled, and held out her free hand. “Care to dance?”
Mal grinned and took a drink as well. “Why not?”
They swayed together to absent music and drank champagne straight from the bottle even after River had her coffee and piloted them out of the world.
TBC
River was on cloud nine. She’d never been there before, but this had to be what it was like. Jayne was twirling her about like a feather against a gale force wind. She was fluttering, laughing, and actually enjoying herself for once.
It was the first time she’d danced without a care since Jiangyin… Right before Simon was kidnapped by the hill folk (and then she’d followed and was very nearly burnt at the stake).
It was also the first time she’d danced with someone she’d felt so comfortable with.
Jayne laughed and made River flicker across the floor again. Her feet were already hurting, but she could care less. This was the most fun she’d had on any job.
The clock struck 1900, but all eyes were on River and Jayne.
Perfect. Now we just have to keep this up until 2200!
*
Mal slid a crate full of weaponry across the slick stone floor—Zoë was just a few feet behind him with about three paintings underneath each arm. He could practically hear her mental cursing about the heels she was wearing. On the patio outside, Kaylee and Simon were loading up the first run of loot on the mule.
There were two more loads to do after this one.
“Jayne had better appreciate these guns,” Mal whispered harshly.
Kaylee, who was decked out in her darker coveralls and had her hair tucked under one of Jayne’s hats, grinned so hard against the night sky that her captain swore her face started glowing like Serenity during a full burn. “Him and River are splittin’ ‘em up together. Nara said they had a game of rock, paper, scissors over the last one. Some kinda shotgun.”
Simon helped Mal tie down the bulky crate. “Great,” he murmured sarcastically. “More guns.”
Kaylee shrugged as she helped Zoë load the paintings. “One of ‘em’s even bigger’n Vera!”
“Again. Great.”
“I think it’s shiny fer Donna to let us keep the guns,” Kaylee added.
“Gotta say,” Zoë smirked, “it’ll sure cheer Jayne up after havin’ to get all fancified. He’s even crankier than normal ‘cause of all this.”
*
The music ended and applause took its place. River curtsied delicately beside Jayne, her hand still clasped in his. The tall mercenary bowed as well and smiled genially at the host of the party—a man of similar stature with graying hair and smile lines deep as ditches.
“Wonderful performance, young sir!”
Jayne tilted his head, “Thank you, sir.”
“I would ask for a dance with your partner here, but she appears to need to rest her feet.”
Jayne couldn’t agree more. “True. Why don’t we rest a bit, Vera?”
River’s surprised expression was momentary, but she nodded regardless. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
Jayne snagged two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and handed her one as they followed the host to one of the free tables. He pulled out a chair for River and sat in the empty one beside her.
River drained her glass of champagne. “Sir Whilton, James and I were planning on performing a tango later. We are practicing for a ballroom tournament that’s being held on Osiris this upcoming weekend and we were hoping to use your party as an opportunity to stretch our leg muscles, so to speak.”
Sir Whilton smiled in approval. “Why, absolutely. Rest your feet—I’ll ask the band to prepare an appropriate piece of music to play for you.”
“Thank you, Sir Whilton,” Jayne saluted the old man with his champagne flute.
Whilton saluted in return and vanished through the crowd to talk to the musicians.
“How’re the feet?” Jayne asked, finally downing his entire drink.
“They hurt,” River admitted, “but it is immaterial.”
The clock chimed once to indicate the passing of the half hour.
Jayne smiled. “The others should be done by now.”
River grinned widely and dropped her aching feet onto Jayne’s thigh. “I have decided something.”
Absently, he pulled her heels off and began to rub the arches of her feet. “Hmm? What’s that?”
“I will let you use the XM-26 on every other job.”
His grin widened.
Sir Whilton leaned over Jayne’s shoulder and clapped the younger man on the back. “Son, your song starts as soon as you signal the conductor.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jayne nodded and squeezed both of River’s feet in one hand. “Are you ready, Vera?”
River tugged her shoes on and kissed Jayne’s cheek. “I’m ready, James.”
Still in character (though that kiss nearly broke it), Jayne helped River to her feet and removed his tailored jacket—leaving him in his crisp white shirt and dark red waistcoat. After reviewing the tango with River just before disembarking he found the less restricted he was with unfamiliar clothing, the smoother he moved.
River moves like her name no matter what she’s wearin’.
A thin pale hand alighted on his shoulder just as he thought this. “You move like a big cat,” she whispered. Jayne blushed.
He shook it off and clicked his fingers at the conductor.
This is gonna be hard…
The answering grin was downright sinful.
As the music swelled to it’s proper starting point, River and Jayne took their (very close) positions and draped their hands onto each other in a half-lazy, half-promising manner. And suddenly, Jayne’s musing about the dance being hard was not too far off the mark.
He was half-thankful and half-regretful as the restricting material of his trousers trapper his inevitable erection in one of the most uncomfortable positions. It was painful, but at least no one would really be able to see it.
River executed a complicated, clingy move that pressed her entire body against his and Jayne swore his heart gave out. Her right leg hooked around to rest tightly against the middle of his backside and she pushed up with her opposite foot to press hard on his groin.
Oh, go se.
Remembering the steps, he dipped her low and dropped his forehead between her breasts—his labored breath blew hotly across the dark red fabric and he could see the distinct outline of her nipples. She shivered against him and had to focus herself on the dance.
They both prowled across the polished floor as the tango became a sort of mating dance—they flashed their colors, flaunted their assets, and held one another so close that it was a wonder neither of them suffocated.
All in all, it was such an arousing display that Sir Whilton and his entire guest party forgot entirely about the tour they were going to take later of the mansion.
The song ended far too soon for Jayne’s liking and left him and River breathing erratically beneath Sir Whilton’s old-fashioned chandelier.
The onlookers applauded—a few broke out of their stiff-upper-lip-edness long enough to give a few wolf whistles. Sir Whilton himself was clapping his hands together enthusiastically and grinning from ear to ear with a hot red flush burning his cheeks.
“I say, if the pair of you do that for your tournament dance, you will win hands down.”
Jayne forced himself to smile and fought the urge to excuse himself to the men’s room to take care of his problem. Unbeknownst to him, River was fighting the same temptation.
Their only other option was…
“Do you think we could have a few bottles of champagne to celebrate?” they both asked.
Sir Whilton laughed heartily.
*
Mal finished stowing their recently acquired cargo and bellowed for someone to check the time. Inara popped out of her shuttle and gave him her very best “calm-the-hell-down” stare.
“It’s 2245, Mal. They’re not back yet?”
He stared at her as she descended the stairs. She was wearing his favorite dress—the teal one with long sleeves and a pattern on the front that reminded him of one of his mother’s quilts. “No,” he managed to squeak out, “haven’t seen hide nor hair of those two since we left ‘em in the ballroom.”
Inara stopped in front of him. “Were they having fun?” she asked with her pixie grin.
“Well… Yeah.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
Mal scratched the back of his neck (free of the constricting cravat). “Well, nothin’ per say, but I wanna get the hell off this rock and get rid of my cargo.”
As soon as the words left his mouth he heard singing coming from the direction of the gangplank. Loud singing. Drunk singing.
“…we took from the rich an’ we gave ta the poor!”
“Stood upta th’ man an’ we gave ‘im what for!”
River and Jayne were stumbling together (two open bottles of champagne between them) singing at the tops of their lungs. Somewhere along the way back from Sir Whilton’s estate River’s hair had fallen out of its up-do and Jayne’s entire outfit had been put into disarray. His shirt was undone to the middle of his chest, his bowtie hung limply out of his pants pocket, and his neatly combed hair was pointing out in every direction.
He was carrying River’s heels and another bottle of champagne in his free hand.
River was dragging him toward the ship with hers—her tiny fingers were yanking on one side of his waistcoat.
Mal gave his best impression of a flycatcher.
“Captain!” River shouted. She waved her bottle of champagne at him and tugged on Jayne again as he tried to remember how to shut the airlock with both hands full.
“River? Are you drunk?” Mal asked.
River giggled and sagged against Jayne once the hydraulics in the doors kicked in. “Maybe a little,” she admitted.
Jayne (somehow) snagged her bottle away from her loose hand and held it out for Mal to take. His extreme drunkenness seemed to lessen a bit as soon as the Londinium crowd noise was cut off by Serenity’s bulkhead. “She ain’t that drunk, Mal. We’s just foolin’ around. Lettin’ Whilton think we were some kind fancified Core ballroom dancers—he liked us so much he didn’t even notice that you ‘n Zoë were long gone.”
River nodded enthusiastically. “Yep. We can leave slowly for once.”
Mal let out a gushing, relieved sigh. “Fine. Jayne, you go make this girl a cup of coffee and sober up a bit so we can get back to the black.”
Jayne grinned lopsidedly and saluted Mal with the hand holding River’s shoes and the champagne bottle. “Sure thing, Cap.”
He shoved both open bottles into Mal’s hands as he strode purposefully to the galley with
River (who was laughing) under one arm. Mal looked flummoxed for a moment, but it passed when Inara took one of the bottles from him.
She took a swig, smiled, and held out her free hand. “Care to dance?”
Mal grinned and took a drink as well. “Why not?”
They swayed together to absent music and drank champagne straight from the bottle even after River had her coffee and piloted them out of the world.
TBC