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Jayne never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons.
Title: All That Glitters Is Not Gold (The Holds Me Safe Remix)
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: Characters from Firefly are property of Joss Whedon, etc., etc.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Set vaguely post-series
Notes: Written for Round 9 of the Circle of Friends remix. Original story: Once Upon a December by![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
SRoni. Because I never could resist a rarepair, nor the opportunity to take crack seriously, nor the opportunity to dabble back in a comfort fandom (it's been an exhausting year). Apologies for the tardiness! Title from Tolkien; Remix subtitle from lyrics associated with the original's title. :)
Summary: Jayne never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons. 2000 words.
The first time Inara pressed her mouth to his, Jayne was right confuddled by it. He didn't so much mean to reject her as try to keep her from making things more awkward while he figured out what the hell her captors must've drugged her with, but he never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons.
After she'd turned on one dainty heel and stormed away in a swish of silk, though, he'd conjured it was for the best. Everyone on Serenity knew that the Companion belonged to the Captain-- well, not belonged like she was some kind of trinket, because she was her own woman and anyone said otherwise deserved a date with Vera, but they all knew he was sweet on her and were fair sure she was sweet on him back. Just because Jayne had been the one to rescue her this time didn't mean he'd suddenly taken Mal's place, and he sure as shooting didn't want to spend no time in the airlock again just because Inara'd got a little mixed up in the heat of the moment.
Jayne didn't think he looked that much like the Captain, but if she were out of her gourd, or even just a mite soused like Mal had been that night on Triumph when that jiànhuò Saffron stuck a wreath on his head, he especially didn't want her to think he'd taken advantage of her later. She was a gorramn Companion, the finest example of the fem-i-nine gender he'd ever had occasion to lay eyes on, not even excepting his own mother. He might not be all too refined in how he usually showed his appreciation, but he'd never been less than honest about it, and weren't about to start now.
Not that his noble suffering seemed to make all that much of a difference when he returned to the ship, trailing in a distinctly ruffled Inara's wake, and the Companion locked herself in her shuttle for three full days. Things had just started to settle out good between him and Mal, a hell of a lot of oxy gone through the scrubbers since his fuckup on Ariel, but the longer that door stayed shut and the comm muted the more irritated the Captain got. And the less said about the eerie-assed way River's eyes went all watery when she looked at him at their second Inara-less dinner, the better.
Mal stared in astonishment at the sight of the crazy ninja girl in unprovoked distress, then frowned suspiciously at him. "That's the second of my crew to go all tongue-tied on account of you this week, Jayne. Something goin' on that I might maybe need to know about?"
"What're you askin' me for?" Jayne frowned back at him. "I'm just tryin' to eat here."
Not like he had a clue. He'd hadn't even been able to enjoy the extra bunk-time inspiration he might've got from learning exactly how Inara would feel in his arms; he already knew she wasn't the type to go all wibbly at the sight of a couple dead men, not after everything the crew had been through, so exactly what had upset her had been keeping him distracted for much less satisfying reasons.
It couldn't really be about him, could it? She already knew he didn't kiss folk on the lips; he'd said as much during that mess with the temporary Mrs. Reynolds. He'd seen all too many guys in his profession end up dead or flat broke after a Good Night Kiss or the like to make it a habit. Only way he'd risk it now was if there was some real good reason; it made him feel unnatural exposed, like walking onto Higgins' Moon without any kind of weapon. Had she thought him pulling back meant he didn't trust her? He'd tell her otherwise if'n she asked, but Mal prodding at the subject grated at him like sand on fresh blast burns.
Mal glanced between him and River again, impatient-like. "River, you got anything to say?"
River shook her head, a wry smile that wouldn't have been out of place on Inara's face when she was prancing around on a client's arm with her chin in the air breaking out from beneath the tears, then gathered up her plate and stood. "Fuel consumption reaches better efficiency when the air is clear," she said elliptically, then narrowed her eyes at Jayne. "Don't be a boob."
The rest of the crew watched her go, then shifted their gaze to Jayne, expectantly.
"Yeah, what she said," he muttered, and beat feet back to his own bunk with the last breadroll off the table.
It wasn't until the next day sometime, when he was lifting weights down in the cargo bay, that Inara finally unsealed her shuttle and came back out again. He was lifting on his lonesome-- he damn sure missed the Shepherd, but he weren't about to ask Simon to spot for him, and forget the Captain when he was in this kind of mood-- so there weren't no one to witness when she came down the stairs from the upper catwalk and stopped next to his weight bench.
Jayne took in the sight of her, beautiful as a sunrise even in fancy dress with all her Companion tricks on display like warpaint, and wished he'd had enough warning to wipe hisself down with a towel at least.
She hesitated a little as he sat up to greet her; he saw her gaze flick over his sweaty torso, but her expression stayed smooth as a porcelain doll's when he spoke.
"'Nara," he nodded. "Crew been worried about you."
Something about that pricked at her; he weren't any great shakes at figuring out what went on in other people's heads, but there was something tart in her tone as she replied. "Yes, I'm sure Kaylee's been missing me something fierce."
Jayne hadn't said a damn thing about Kaylee, nor had Kaylee even said anything directly to him, being all shut up with Simon most of the time these days. Guessing on why Inara had said that wouldn't get him anywhere, though; nor would trying out any other pleasantries while she stood there all expectant, he figured. Best get straight to the point, then.
"I do something to piss you off?" he asked, frowning. "Didn't figure it was the rescuin', but nothin' else makes sense to me, neither. 'Cept for me not bein' the Captain."
"Oh?" she replied in a suspiciously calm voice, perfectly plucked brows arching high over kaf-dark eyes. "I suppose I can see how one might mistake Thank you, Jayne for Thank you, Mal, if one happened to have stood in proximity to one too many explosions over the years. Then I suppose it might have been noble to reject that appreciation, given that he and I have conclusively decided to keep our relationship free of any further complications. But I hadn't taken you for the stupidly noble one on this crew; as a matter of fact, it's one of the things I appreciate most about you. So I'm afraid I must ask more plainly. Why did you push me away?"
Jayne got to his feet as he processed that through. So that was what she was upset over. Not that it made any better sense to him now. "Hell, Inara, even if you weren't all mixed up, I knew you didn't really mean it. And you know I don't kiss on the mouth. Got to mean somethin' if I do."
"And a 'thank you' isn't enough meaning?" she replied, brows arching higher.
Jayne scoffed. "If it was, I'd never have made it this far in the first place. You're an amazin' woman, Inara. You don't need me to tell you that. I'm damn good at what I do, but I ain't no coreworld dandy, nor even-- like you said-- any kind of a hero. Ain't no call for a woman like you to go kissin' on a man like me, so it seemed best to, how'd you say it? Uncomplicate things."
Her lips pressed tight together, but she still didn't flare at him, not even as much as she usually did at Mal. "And if I did mean something more by it?"
He took a sharp breath, then turned back to his weight bench. Teasing around the supper table was one thing. Or words spoke in the heat of a job. But down here, like this? A man could only take so much. "We both know that ain't like to happen," he said.
Inara made an irritated noise behind him; then he heard the patter of slippered feet on the decking as she walked away. Back into the boat this time, at least, not up to her shuttle; at least he wouldn't have Mal after him again for this conversation. Things could just go back the way they were, and all of this uncomfortableness would blow over.
Except that it didn't; because she didn't speak to him for another three days, pointedly turning that graceful profile away whenever he was in the same room with her. At least she must've said something to the others, since none of them said boo to him about it, but it was awkward as hell.
It wasn't until he imagined writing to Mattie about it a few days later-- for some reason, our Companion ain't giving me the time of day no more-- that the absurdity of it finally got to him, and he stopped aiming a frustrated scowl in her direction. He ought to be damn glad a woman like Inara had ever given him the time of day in the first place; he was a luckier man than he had any right to be, and that was the damn truth of it. So what if she didn't mean nothing by it? She liked him, or at least some things about him-- she'd outright said so-- and that was surely more than he deserved.
She must've noticed the lifting of his mood, because later that day she followed him back out to the bay while he was checking the straps on their latest run of cargo, and cornered him up against a big stack of crates.
"Inara, what...." he started to say; then he weren't saying anything at all, as the softest pair of lips he'd ever felt worked against his.
It was a struggle not to imagine those lips on his pecker; even tougher to let go when she stepped back again, and not lift her off her feet to carry her to his bunk. There weren't no question this time of whether or not she was confused. "Why...?"
"It means something," she said, determinedly.
She wasn't dressed up today, not any more than she ever was when she wasn't working. Hair down and loose, just begging for someone to run their fingers through it. Makeup simple and light. Dress only lightly adorned, like the ones she'd given River. No more or less lovely, because she was always as pretty as a star caught in a net, but like she'd taken down some kind of wall between them.
"But why me?" he asked, confuddled all over again.
"Would you ever lie to me? Or ask me to be anything other than I am?" she asked plainly, tracing her fingers along the line of his jaw.
A deep shudder went through him. "Now why would I do a damn-fool thing like that?"
Inara smiled, bright as Blue Sun. "Precisely."
+
Jayne was confuddled on a fairly regular basis after that, though fortunately it soon ceased to bother him. Except maybe when he heard her narrating it all like a fairy tale to River.
The concept of happily ever after was something he'd never thought might apply to him.
But for Inara-- who never asked him to be other than he was neither-- it might be worth it to try.
(x-posted tocircle_of_friends & AO3)
circle_of_friends.Jayne never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons.
Title: All That Glitters Is Not Gold (The Holds Me Safe Remix)
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: Characters from Firefly are property of Joss Whedon, etc., etc.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Set vaguely post-series
Notes: Written for Round 9 of the Circle of Friends remix. Original story: Once Upon a December by
Summary: Jayne never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons. 2000 words.
The first time Inara pressed her mouth to his, Jayne was right confuddled by it. He didn't so much mean to reject her as try to keep her from making things more awkward while he figured out what the hell her captors must've drugged her with, but he never was too good at explaining hisself when it came to matters that didn't involve weapons.
After she'd turned on one dainty heel and stormed away in a swish of silk, though, he'd conjured it was for the best. Everyone on Serenity knew that the Companion belonged to the Captain-- well, not belonged like she was some kind of trinket, because she was her own woman and anyone said otherwise deserved a date with Vera, but they all knew he was sweet on her and were fair sure she was sweet on him back. Just because Jayne had been the one to rescue her this time didn't mean he'd suddenly taken Mal's place, and he sure as shooting didn't want to spend no time in the airlock again just because Inara'd got a little mixed up in the heat of the moment.
Jayne didn't think he looked that much like the Captain, but if she were out of her gourd, or even just a mite soused like Mal had been that night on Triumph when that jiànhuò Saffron stuck a wreath on his head, he especially didn't want her to think he'd taken advantage of her later. She was a gorramn Companion, the finest example of the fem-i-nine gender he'd ever had occasion to lay eyes on, not even excepting his own mother. He might not be all too refined in how he usually showed his appreciation, but he'd never been less than honest about it, and weren't about to start now.
Not that his noble suffering seemed to make all that much of a difference when he returned to the ship, trailing in a distinctly ruffled Inara's wake, and the Companion locked herself in her shuttle for three full days. Things had just started to settle out good between him and Mal, a hell of a lot of oxy gone through the scrubbers since his fuckup on Ariel, but the longer that door stayed shut and the comm muted the more irritated the Captain got. And the less said about the eerie-assed way River's eyes went all watery when she looked at him at their second Inara-less dinner, the better.
Mal stared in astonishment at the sight of the crazy ninja girl in unprovoked distress, then frowned suspiciously at him. "That's the second of my crew to go all tongue-tied on account of you this week, Jayne. Something goin' on that I might maybe need to know about?"
"What're you askin' me for?" Jayne frowned back at him. "I'm just tryin' to eat here."
Not like he had a clue. He'd hadn't even been able to enjoy the extra bunk-time inspiration he might've got from learning exactly how Inara would feel in his arms; he already knew she wasn't the type to go all wibbly at the sight of a couple dead men, not after everything the crew had been through, so exactly what had upset her had been keeping him distracted for much less satisfying reasons.
It couldn't really be about him, could it? She already knew he didn't kiss folk on the lips; he'd said as much during that mess with the temporary Mrs. Reynolds. He'd seen all too many guys in his profession end up dead or flat broke after a Good Night Kiss or the like to make it a habit. Only way he'd risk it now was if there was some real good reason; it made him feel unnatural exposed, like walking onto Higgins' Moon without any kind of weapon. Had she thought him pulling back meant he didn't trust her? He'd tell her otherwise if'n she asked, but Mal prodding at the subject grated at him like sand on fresh blast burns.
Mal glanced between him and River again, impatient-like. "River, you got anything to say?"
River shook her head, a wry smile that wouldn't have been out of place on Inara's face when she was prancing around on a client's arm with her chin in the air breaking out from beneath the tears, then gathered up her plate and stood. "Fuel consumption reaches better efficiency when the air is clear," she said elliptically, then narrowed her eyes at Jayne. "Don't be a boob."
The rest of the crew watched her go, then shifted their gaze to Jayne, expectantly.
"Yeah, what she said," he muttered, and beat feet back to his own bunk with the last breadroll off the table.
It wasn't until the next day sometime, when he was lifting weights down in the cargo bay, that Inara finally unsealed her shuttle and came back out again. He was lifting on his lonesome-- he damn sure missed the Shepherd, but he weren't about to ask Simon to spot for him, and forget the Captain when he was in this kind of mood-- so there weren't no one to witness when she came down the stairs from the upper catwalk and stopped next to his weight bench.
Jayne took in the sight of her, beautiful as a sunrise even in fancy dress with all her Companion tricks on display like warpaint, and wished he'd had enough warning to wipe hisself down with a towel at least.
She hesitated a little as he sat up to greet her; he saw her gaze flick over his sweaty torso, but her expression stayed smooth as a porcelain doll's when he spoke.
"'Nara," he nodded. "Crew been worried about you."
Something about that pricked at her; he weren't any great shakes at figuring out what went on in other people's heads, but there was something tart in her tone as she replied. "Yes, I'm sure Kaylee's been missing me something fierce."
Jayne hadn't said a damn thing about Kaylee, nor had Kaylee even said anything directly to him, being all shut up with Simon most of the time these days. Guessing on why Inara had said that wouldn't get him anywhere, though; nor would trying out any other pleasantries while she stood there all expectant, he figured. Best get straight to the point, then.
"I do something to piss you off?" he asked, frowning. "Didn't figure it was the rescuin', but nothin' else makes sense to me, neither. 'Cept for me not bein' the Captain."
"Oh?" she replied in a suspiciously calm voice, perfectly plucked brows arching high over kaf-dark eyes. "I suppose I can see how one might mistake Thank you, Jayne for Thank you, Mal, if one happened to have stood in proximity to one too many explosions over the years. Then I suppose it might have been noble to reject that appreciation, given that he and I have conclusively decided to keep our relationship free of any further complications. But I hadn't taken you for the stupidly noble one on this crew; as a matter of fact, it's one of the things I appreciate most about you. So I'm afraid I must ask more plainly. Why did you push me away?"
Jayne got to his feet as he processed that through. So that was what she was upset over. Not that it made any better sense to him now. "Hell, Inara, even if you weren't all mixed up, I knew you didn't really mean it. And you know I don't kiss on the mouth. Got to mean somethin' if I do."
"And a 'thank you' isn't enough meaning?" she replied, brows arching higher.
Jayne scoffed. "If it was, I'd never have made it this far in the first place. You're an amazin' woman, Inara. You don't need me to tell you that. I'm damn good at what I do, but I ain't no coreworld dandy, nor even-- like you said-- any kind of a hero. Ain't no call for a woman like you to go kissin' on a man like me, so it seemed best to, how'd you say it? Uncomplicate things."
Her lips pressed tight together, but she still didn't flare at him, not even as much as she usually did at Mal. "And if I did mean something more by it?"
He took a sharp breath, then turned back to his weight bench. Teasing around the supper table was one thing. Or words spoke in the heat of a job. But down here, like this? A man could only take so much. "We both know that ain't like to happen," he said.
Inara made an irritated noise behind him; then he heard the patter of slippered feet on the decking as she walked away. Back into the boat this time, at least, not up to her shuttle; at least he wouldn't have Mal after him again for this conversation. Things could just go back the way they were, and all of this uncomfortableness would blow over.
Except that it didn't; because she didn't speak to him for another three days, pointedly turning that graceful profile away whenever he was in the same room with her. At least she must've said something to the others, since none of them said boo to him about it, but it was awkward as hell.
It wasn't until he imagined writing to Mattie about it a few days later-- for some reason, our Companion ain't giving me the time of day no more-- that the absurdity of it finally got to him, and he stopped aiming a frustrated scowl in her direction. He ought to be damn glad a woman like Inara had ever given him the time of day in the first place; he was a luckier man than he had any right to be, and that was the damn truth of it. So what if she didn't mean nothing by it? She liked him, or at least some things about him-- she'd outright said so-- and that was surely more than he deserved.
She must've noticed the lifting of his mood, because later that day she followed him back out to the bay while he was checking the straps on their latest run of cargo, and cornered him up against a big stack of crates.
"Inara, what...." he started to say; then he weren't saying anything at all, as the softest pair of lips he'd ever felt worked against his.
It was a struggle not to imagine those lips on his pecker; even tougher to let go when she stepped back again, and not lift her off her feet to carry her to his bunk. There weren't no question this time of whether or not she was confused. "Why...?"
"It means something," she said, determinedly.
She wasn't dressed up today, not any more than she ever was when she wasn't working. Hair down and loose, just begging for someone to run their fingers through it. Makeup simple and light. Dress only lightly adorned, like the ones she'd given River. No more or less lovely, because she was always as pretty as a star caught in a net, but like she'd taken down some kind of wall between them.
"But why me?" he asked, confuddled all over again.
"Would you ever lie to me? Or ask me to be anything other than I am?" she asked plainly, tracing her fingers along the line of his jaw.
A deep shudder went through him. "Now why would I do a damn-fool thing like that?"
Inara smiled, bright as Blue Sun. "Precisely."
+
Jayne was confuddled on a fairly regular basis after that, though fortunately it soon ceased to bother him. Except maybe when he heard her narrating it all like a fairy tale to River.
The concept of happily ever after was something he'd never thought might apply to him.
But for Inara-- who never asked him to be other than he was neither-- it might be worth it to try.
(x-posted to
circle_of_friends & AO3)
no subject
Date: 2019-12-26 11:29 pm (UTC)Pleasant. Even a little moving. Thanks.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-31 10:42 pm (UTC)I do think Mal/Inara make-up and then break-up-again would have been far more likely if canon had continued. But that honesty/don't need you to change thing: yeah, Inara deserves that, and Mal seems constitutionally incapable of giving it to her. So, Jayne. :)
no subject
Date: 2019-12-30 05:04 pm (UTC)I just. I love this so much.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-31 10:43 pm (UTC)I have a soft spot for Jayne, and had a lot of fun exploring what that pairing would look like from his POV. Plus, I don't write nearly enough Firefly these days, and I miss it!