(Firefly) Jayne Cobb/River Tam, Five Senses
Title: Concentration
Author: Jmaria
Theme: Taste
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss is Boss. River and Jayne are his. I, however, own Hoban jr., Gaia, and Skye.
Pairing: Jayne Cobb/River Tam
Words: 478
Summary: I ain’t breakin’ yer concentration or nuthin’, am I?
Author's Notes: Post-Serenity, and set in the Gravity ‘verse and about fourteen years after Off Putting. An extended family tree is here. This really is the end of the story, there might be a story focusing on the kids, but I'm not sure.
Rough lips pressed to the nape of her neck, resting there for only a moment before creepin’ up her skin. River shivered pleasurably, giggling as her husband kissed jus below her ear. They’d pulled off a job, and she knew he was eager to celebrate. Her fingers loosened their grip on the spoon in her hand.
“I ain’t breakin’ yer concentration or nuthin’, am I?”
“My Jayne, I will never finish if you keep pesterin’ me,” River smirked when he gave a low chuckle at this. “And if I can’t finish, we’ll have to have Simon finish cooking.”
“Please don’t distract Mama from cookin’, Pop,” A voice said, startling both of them. A dark haired girl of fifteen stood behind them, her young face smeared with grease as she gave her parents a pained look. Beside her, a red-haired teen just grinned at them, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jumpsuit. “I don’t think my poor innards can stand another dose of Uncle Simon’s cookin’. Besides, I don‘t think I can stomach the two of you - yech.”
“What’re my pilots’ doin’ off the bridge? Who’s flyin’ this thing?” Mal demanded, strutting through the dining area.
“Ma’s flyin’, Uncle Mal,” Gaia laughed, brushing her hair from her eyes. “Said somethin’ bout bein’ closer to Papa that way. On account of what today is.”
The older crew members of Serenity got quiet, knowing that today would have been Zoe and Wash’s anniversary. A lot had happened in the last seventeen years. People had died, had been born, relationships formed and renewed. Serenity kept flying, with Wash’s daughter learning to fly her, and his son keeping her in the sky. Simon still tried to poison them with his cooking, but he always patched them up again. Skye, River and Jayne’s oldest daughter, had become a jack-of-all-trades, just like her mother. The younger children, the rest of the Cobb brood, the Tam kids, and even the Serra-Reynolds children were finding their niche on the cargo ship.
River glanced down at the simmering pot, the guilt and grief working it’s way to her brain. She’d made his favorite meal without even thinking about it. Jayne just wrapped his arms around her tightly, washing his thoughts over her, pushing the pain away. Her fingers went back to stirring, almost mechanically. And none of the grown-ups noticed Zoe come in.
“Wife soup,” River blurted, not waiting for the question that would have come from the First Mate.
“Really?” Zoe asked, taking the spoon from her hand.
“Don’t tell Zoe, but it probably tastes better than hers did,” a ghostly voice whispered.
“Tastes better than my last attempt,” Zoe smiled.
“Well, when yer a genuis like her it’s hard to screw up soup,” Jayne chuckled.
“Jayne, I can still hurt you,” Zoe walked over and put an arm around her daughter.
“My girls.”
Author: Jmaria
Theme: Taste
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss is Boss. River and Jayne are his. I, however, own Hoban jr., Gaia, and Skye.
Pairing: Jayne Cobb/River Tam
Words: 478
Summary: I ain’t breakin’ yer concentration or nuthin’, am I?
Author's Notes: Post-Serenity, and set in the Gravity ‘verse and about fourteen years after Off Putting. An extended family tree is here. This really is the end of the story, there might be a story focusing on the kids, but I'm not sure.
Rough lips pressed to the nape of her neck, resting there for only a moment before creepin’ up her skin. River shivered pleasurably, giggling as her husband kissed jus below her ear. They’d pulled off a job, and she knew he was eager to celebrate. Her fingers loosened their grip on the spoon in her hand.
“I ain’t breakin’ yer concentration or nuthin’, am I?”
“My Jayne, I will never finish if you keep pesterin’ me,” River smirked when he gave a low chuckle at this. “And if I can’t finish, we’ll have to have Simon finish cooking.”
“Please don’t distract Mama from cookin’, Pop,” A voice said, startling both of them. A dark haired girl of fifteen stood behind them, her young face smeared with grease as she gave her parents a pained look. Beside her, a red-haired teen just grinned at them, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her jumpsuit. “I don’t think my poor innards can stand another dose of Uncle Simon’s cookin’. Besides, I don‘t think I can stomach the two of you - yech.”
“What’re my pilots’ doin’ off the bridge? Who’s flyin’ this thing?” Mal demanded, strutting through the dining area.
“Ma’s flyin’, Uncle Mal,” Gaia laughed, brushing her hair from her eyes. “Said somethin’ bout bein’ closer to Papa that way. On account of what today is.”
The older crew members of Serenity got quiet, knowing that today would have been Zoe and Wash’s anniversary. A lot had happened in the last seventeen years. People had died, had been born, relationships formed and renewed. Serenity kept flying, with Wash’s daughter learning to fly her, and his son keeping her in the sky. Simon still tried to poison them with his cooking, but he always patched them up again. Skye, River and Jayne’s oldest daughter, had become a jack-of-all-trades, just like her mother. The younger children, the rest of the Cobb brood, the Tam kids, and even the Serra-Reynolds children were finding their niche on the cargo ship.
River glanced down at the simmering pot, the guilt and grief working it’s way to her brain. She’d made his favorite meal without even thinking about it. Jayne just wrapped his arms around her tightly, washing his thoughts over her, pushing the pain away. Her fingers went back to stirring, almost mechanically. And none of the grown-ups noticed Zoe come in.
“Wife soup,” River blurted, not waiting for the question that would have come from the First Mate.
“Really?” Zoe asked, taking the spoon from her hand.
“Don’t tell Zoe, but it probably tastes better than hers did,” a ghostly voice whispered.
“Tastes better than my last attempt,” Zoe smiled.
“Well, when yer a genuis like her it’s hard to screw up soup,” Jayne chuckled.
“Jayne, I can still hurt you,” Zoe walked over and put an arm around her daughter.
“My girls.”