Firefly fanfic: Problem Solving (NC-17) River/Jayne -- PART ONE

[literarylemming]

TITLE: Problem Solving -- PART ONE
AUTHOR: Mnemosyne

Disclaimer: Not mine! But Ron Moore said I could play-- Oh, wait. Sorry. Wrong fandom. Uh... Still not mine!
SUMMARY: Jayne wakes up to find River in his bed. What the gorram hell?
RATING: NC-17, for SEX
PAIRING: River/Jayne
SPOILERS: Possibly vague, VAGUE ones for Serenity, but this could easily slot into just about anywhere in the 'verse.
WARNING: This fic involves sex between a forty-something mercenary and a seventeen-year-old genius. I tried to make it as unsquicky as possible, but if that disturbs you, I suggest you don't read. There are also allusions to unpleasant behavior at the Academy, so again, please don't read if that upsets you.
NOTES:
I couldn't resist. It usually takes me a while to write NC-17 fic for my favorite fandom pairings - it too k me how long to do one for Lee and Kara? -- but River and Jayne just wouldn't let me go. They tied me to my computer and forced me to type this for them. I think they had a little help from aliaspiral and emilierevan, actually. I hope they're happy! ;) Hee!

Additionally, I suggest you don't sit back to read this unless you've got a good chunk of time. I don't know why I can't seem to write PWP - it's outside my capabilities apparently. I hope I make up for it in... well, somehow. Enjoy!



In the dream, Jayne was having sex with his favorite whore, Lucinda. She was expensive but worth it, with a swanky establishment on one of the little moons that wasn't quite Core, wasn't quite Rim. Jayne always liked making time with Lucinda, because she really seemed to enjoy his company. Course, most of the whores he went with liked him, 'cause he knew how to treat them right. Momma had taught him to respect a lady, and while he'd punch anyone who got under his skin - male or female - when it came to the bedroom, he was a right perfect gentleman. Sometimes. Most of the time he was just plain randy. But he always made sure he gave as good as he got, and he always paid what was owed.

Still, Lucinda was special. She was blond and buxom, with a set of hips that made his mouth water as he watched them sway across the room. Sex with Lucinda was like sex with an avalanche: lots of tumbling and a smashing finish. Jayne liked women with meat on their bones; he liked being able to wrap his arms around her waist and feel every inch of her against every inch of him. Which wasn't to say he'd turn down any of those cute little waiflets that seemed to turn most men's heads. Just if he had a choice, he'd take the curvy ones, and Lucinda was shaped like a top-heavy hourglass.

The dream was weird, though, 'cause Lucinda was acting strange. Normally she'd be all over him and they'd be bucking under the sheets by now, but instead she was teasing; nipping along his collarbone and grazing his ribs with her fingertips. It wasn't unpleasant - hell no! -- just... odd. He wasn't used to Lucinda being delicate with him. Jayne wasn't used to anyone being delicate with him. He knew everyone saw him as a big, oafish ox, and that was just fine by him; a man like that could get a reputation sight unseen.

The sun was shining in this hazy little dreamworld, and that was weird, too, because Lucinda always had a queue, but she always cleared her calendar for him come nightfall. The light was bright, and it showed off the auburn highlights in her hair. There were places it almost looked chestnut. He found himself wondering if she was a natural blond, or if she'd done that thing women did and dyed her hair. But then what the hell did he care? The hair didn't matter. It was all the pink bits that mattered.

After a while, Lucinda began to move against him, and this was more like it. She rubbed her belly against his as she pressed soft kisses up his neck - studiously avoiding his mouth, as he'd instructed her. Jayne grinned, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around her waist. Oh yeah, this was the stuff. Warm woman, soft bed, recycled air, artificial light-

Hang on. What the hell?

Jayne's eyes flew open, and he knew he was awake because he could feel Serenity's engines vibrating in the walls and up through the floor. The light immediately above his bunk was on, shining down on his Wall of Women and making him squint in discomfort. "What in the gorram hell...?" he muttered groggily, raising one hand to shield his eyes from the glare. He went to raise the other hand to switch off the light, before realizing that he couldn't move it because something was holding it down.

Something warm, and soft, and vaguely girl-shaped.

Stiffening - in just about every way that word could be applied - Jayne took a moment to swallow before looking. Far as he knew, he hadn't snuck any whores aboard Serenity at that last stop on Bellerophon. Then again, he might've gotten drunk and smuggled one on under his coat. He was a big guy and all the whores on Belle were small as matchsticks - no big women like Lucy - so it was a maybe. Whoever it was they were light as a feather, which was why he'd barely noticed her presence right off. Even now the only reason he knew she was there was the additional warmth along his side and the slight numbness in his right hand.

Counting slowly backwards from three, Jayne finally allowed his eyes to drift down, and found himself face to sleeping face with River Tam.

"Gan ni niang," he swore under his breath, and tried not to panic.

What in mother's name was she doing here? Had he let her in? Was he drunk at the time? Was he drunk now? Priorities first. He frantically scanned his eyes around the room to make sure neither Mal nor Simon were waiting in the shadows, ready to skin him alive for laying hands on the girl. That done, he turned his attention back to the sleeping moonbrain.

Far as he could tell she didn't have any sharp implements on her, so the chances of her gutting him when he woke her up were slim. Then again, she was crazy, and crazyfolk could skin you with their teeth. Currently she had her face tucked into the side of his neck and one arm flung across his stomach. Her fingers were dreamily moving over his ribs, and he figured that must've been why Lucy was being all kinds of sweet with him in his dream; he'd been feeling River and he'd turned her into Lucy.

Well weren't that just sweet, in a my balls are gonna be cut off kinda way.

"Hey," he grunted, shaking her cautiously, just in case she had a scalpel or something hid down her nightie. "Hey, get up. Gorrammit, girl, wake up!"

River mumbled sleepily, burrowing deeper into his side before going immediately back to sleep. Jayne could feel her steady breathing moving, warm and moist, against his neck. She was wearing some kind of lacy nightie that barely concealed her girly bits, and he could feel the small swells of her breasts pressing into his ribs. Well-trained bits of his anatomy began to sit up and take notice.

Panic time.

"Wake up!" he barked, pulling roughly away so that she ended up sprawled out on the mattress on her back and he was pressed against the wall, feeling his weapons dig into his back through the thin curtain that kept them hidden. "What're you doin' here!"

River's eyes opened and she gazed up at him as if she hadn't just been asleep a few seconds before. "Morning," she said.

"It ain't mornin', it's the middle of the gorram night, and don't change the subject! What're you doin' in my bed!"

Stretching like a cat - Jayne made himself look away as the silhouette of her body moved within the translucent confines of her nightgown - River yawned. "Scaring away the boogeyman," she explained, flopping back onto the mattress, arms lazily curled above her head.

"You gone more cracked, girl?" Jayne snapped. "Ain't no such thing as the boogeyman."

"The big bad wolf then." With a dreamy smile, she reached up to pat his chest. "And he is very scared now."

Jayne narrowed his eyes at her. "Oh, hardy har har," he tossed out sarcastically. "You're just cute as a button, ain't you? Quit playin' around! I'm the one who's gonna get hisself skinned like a jackrabbit iffen Mal finds out you're here!"

"No one will know."

"You so sure of that?"

"Yes."

Jayne scowled at her. "Well I ain't. Now git."

She pouted at him.

"Cut that out," he snapped irritably. "You ain't got no reason to frown. I wake up, find you snuggled up next to me like Jane Thompson to my John Thomas, and you're frownin'? Just what in hell are you doin' here? Didn't your momma teach you it ain't right to go crawlin' into other folks' beds like they was yours?" The light above him was beginning to feel hot against the top of his head, and he reached up angrily to hit the off switch.

A small scream from the girl sprawled out on his bed stilled his hand.

Looking down, he saw that River had curled into a protective ball, knees drawn up to her chest, hands buried in her hair, which was in turn draped across her face. She was visibly shaking, making the thin mattress shiver right along with her. Jayne's frown deepened, and he found himself facing a quandary. He had no idea what that word meant, but he knew this was one of 'em. Either he could kick the girl out of his bunk and send her whimpering back to her brother and risk her coming back, or he could ask her just what the hell her problem was and get it all sorted so it wouldn't happen again. His sense of self-preservation was demanding he take option one, but the small nugget of his brain that actually paid attention to future scenarios was reminding him that it was all well and good to save himself now, but where did that put him if she decided to come back tomorrow night? Back to square one, that's where.

"Uh... you all right?" he asked lamely, treading on unfamiliar ground.

"Don't bring back the dark," she whispered brokenly, fingers clutching her hair.

Jayne looked up at the light, then back down at the girl. "Why not?" he asked.

"Bad things happen. Ugly things come in the dark."

"Yeah, well, Mal looks better in low light."

"Mal. Mal. Bad. Bad in the dark."

Jayne rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I get it, dark bad. Light good. Light also keeps Jayne awake, which makes Jayne cranky, and you don't want Jayne cranky, 'specially not when he's already in a rip-snortin' mood."

Her fingers carefully pulled aside the curtain of her hair, and Jayne found himself faced with a pair of terrified brown eyes, filled to the brim with tears. "The girl apologizes," she whimpered. "She comes to the big bad wolf so he will blow the brick walls down and let in the sun."

"The hell you sayin', girl."

"You are bigger than the dark."

"Can't you talk sense just once in your life?" he demanded, frustrated. Why was he even indulging her? If she were anyone else he'd have kicked her out of the room by now; chucked her up the ladder into the corridor and gone back to sleep. "The dark ain't gonna hurt you, feng le girl. Case you ain't noticed, we're in the middle of deep, dark space." She whimpered, and he mentally cursed himself for using the word dark. "Ain't no one gonna come and getcha. Shiny?"

"Early did."

He paused, turning that slowly over in his mind. "Yeah, well, that turned out all right, yeah?" he conceded lamely. "I mean, sure, the doc got shot, but only a little bit. And Mal got his ass kicked, but that ain't new. And Kaylee got all trussed up, but she got out jus' fine. And the Shepard got hisself knocked out, but he weren't none the worse for it..." This wasn't going well. Then he brightened as a new idea came to him. "'Sides," he said brightly, "I weren't involved in none of that. If you'd justa woken me up like you did all the others, I'da taken him out quick. Bang, bang. No more problem."

She was staring at him plaintively, and it took him a moment to realize what he'd just said. "Oh, come on now, hang on," he argued, shaking his head vigorously. "That weren't no invitation!"

"You keep the big bads away. You make problems go bye-bye."

"Yeah, when they're already there!" His palms were sweating. "I ain't here to be no... no..."

"Prophylactic?"

"Preventitory measure!" he barked. "Now you just git and go bug your brother. Crawl into bed with him or whatever. I ain't your teddy bear."

River flipped onto her other side so she was facing him, her hands tucked up under her chin as though she were praying, knees cradled against her chest. "Not a teddy," she agreed softly.

"Glad we both get that."

"A grizzly." Reaching up a hand, she ran her fingers through the fine mesh of hair on his bare chest.

Jayne felt panic swell up in him again, and he hastily slapped her hand away. "Quit it!" Casting about desperately for some kind of escape route, he realized there was no way he was getting out of this bed without having to crawl over the crazy girl's skinny body. Her nightgown was riding up her thigh, almost to her hip, revealing a ridiculous amount of creamy white skin. Reaching down, he grabbed the hem and tugged it down to a respectable level before quickly pulling his hand back, shaking it as if he'd just touched a hot stove.

"Simon is communing with strawberries," River murmured, utterly calm, as if she weren't turning Jayne into a bundle of nerves.

"What?" he snapped.

"Kaylee," she clarified.

"What? Oh." Dammit, Doc, you couldn't keep it in your pants the one night your feng le sister decides she wants to sleep with somebody? "Yeah, well, the pair of 'em are loud enough to keep all the big bads away, all right? You just go camp out on the floor outside their room and tell Doc you was there all night, shiny?" No need to go bringing Jayne himself into the story. Besides, maybe Simon would feel so guilty he'd be more careful in the future, and the certified loony wouldn't go clambering into his bed no more.

"No thank you," River said brightly, as if she hadn't been crying just a minute before. Snuggling down into his pillow, she closed her eyes contentedly. "The girl is happy here."

"Yeah, well the grizzly ain't too happy none!" Jayne barked, hoping to scare her with his tone.

"Pfft." No such luck.

"Listen, girl, 'tain't right, a little girl crawlin' into bed with a grown man like this," he explained, hoping a different tack would make her see reason, or whatever it was crazy people saw.

"Not a little girl," she mumbled sleepily.

"Close enough."

"Almost eighteen."

"Yeah, almost. 'Sides, I'm old enough to be your daddy."

"Are you planning on having sex with me?"

"WHAT?" he sputtered, trying to press himself even deeper into the wall. "What you go and say that for!"

River's eyes opened again, surprisingly lucid despite her sleepy tone of a moment before. "To sleep is to rest and rejuvenate the body through proper biological functions," she explained in clinical fashion. "To have sex is to propagate the species through exchange of fluids, culminating in a pleasurable climax." She arched an eyebrow at his crimson face. "They are not mutually inclusive."

Jayne had no idea what about three-quarters of the words she'd said meant, but he was pretty sure she was teasing him. "Yeah, well, looks can be deceivin' and all," he argued. "Iffen anybody finds you in here-"

"Door's locked."

"Huh?"

"She locked the door." Gesturing lazily behind her towards the ladder in the entryway, River yawned and closed her eyes again. "No peepers."

Jayne felt that somewhere along the way he'd lost control of the conversation, if he'd ever had it to begin with. "Someone'll see you when you leave..." he protested weakly.

"River will see them first," she mumbled.

"Through a closed door?" he snorted

She tapped her temple. "Psychic, dummy."

"Oh. Right." He frowned. "Don't call me a dummy."

"Stop being silly and she will consider it."

Jayne felt a small flame of righteous anger unfurl in his belly. "Look here, girl, I shit bigger'n you," he argued. "I can jus' knock you outta this bed faster'n you can spit."

"You won't."

"And what makes you so gorram sure?"

"You like girls." Jayne felt his ears burning, and felt a sudden desire to cover his Wall of Women. "They help you sleep."

"Don't need no help sleepin'," he muttered.

"Yes you do." Eyes still closed, she reached a hand up to him and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him forward with surprising strength. Jayne found himself flat on his back on the mattress before he could protest. River snuggled up close to him, resting her cheek on his chest while keeping tight hold of his opposite shoulder to keep him from squirming away. "Grew up with sisters, full house. You like the sound of girl breathing."

Jayne frowned. "You sayin' I slept with my sisters?" he demanded hotly.

"No, dummy," River explained calmly. "But you don't like the quiet."

Jayne didn't like admitting she was right, so he didn't. "I like it a damn sight better'n your yammerin'," he muttered. Then, "I said don't call me dummy."

"Sleep, Jayne Cobb."

Shiny, he thought sarcastically as he felt her breathing even out against his shoulder. Sighing, he settled himself in for a sleepless night.

-----------------------------------------

River drifted in and out of sleep. It was warm here, and comfortable, and smelled like gun oil and leather and something unclassifiable she could only describe as man. Were she more awake she would have broken the latter down into its component parts - sweat, shaving cream, detergent... - but in her sleepy state she just accepted it as it was and filed it away under Jayne. He was a grizzly, and this was his cave.

But the bear wasn't hibernating. Each time River's consciousness floated back to near-waking, she became aware of his staccato heartbeat and unsteady breathing. Coupled with the unusual tension in his body and the rigidity of his muscles, she was able to deduce without even touching his mind that he was wide awake and showed no sign of sleeping. This was unacceptable. He would be no use to her at all if he was exhausted.

Finally, after the fifth time she drifted awake to find him anxiously awake beneath her, River gave up trying to ignore it. "Why aren't you sleeping?" she asked without opening her eyes.

Jayne jumped beneath her. "Gorram, girl...!" he hissed. "You're gonna give a man a heart attack, bein' all sneaky like that."

River raised her head and propped herself up on one elbow so she could look down into his face. "Irrelevant to the question," she yawned, rubbing her eyes with one hand. "Answer please."

"What, why ain't I sleepin'?"

"Affirmative."

"Cuz I got a bonkers girl sleepin' in my bed!"

"We have discussed this and come to a logical conclusion." This was boring her. Why did he keep insisting on making things so difficult? "No problems exist because there is no problem."

"Girl, you came to a logical conclusion, but that don't mean you brought me along for the ride."

River tilted her head, taking in his profile. He was studiously avoiding her eyes. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the tendons in his neck were standing out more than usual. Generally Jayne carried himself with the air of a very large wolf, predatory without effort. This tension was a new thing, something River had only ever observed in him in the heat of battle, usually when he'd been shot. So what pain was he fighting now? Reaching out with her mind, she lazily brushed her consciousness over his.

Oh. That.

"Your arousal is understood," she said, ignoring his start of surprise, "but irrelevant."

"Yeah, to you maybe," he snapped, and she could feel warmth flush his skin. " Maybe you're a cold little bitch, but man like me gets needs, you know."

River eyed him more closely. She could see him daring the occasional glance in her direction. Images were swirling through his mind, visions of a dozen different whores across a dozen different systems, all doing wildly inappropriate things, and each one with a mop of untidy brown hair.

Hmm. Interesting.

"Pop, pop, like a balloon," she murmured.

"Wassat supposed to mean?" he shot back suspiciously.

"You want to explode." Her fingers idly traced across his collarbone. "Bang, like a cannon."

"Cut that out," Jayne snarled, pushing her hand away and taking the opportunity to move out of the immediate orbit of her body. "You shouldn't go on touchin' a man like that, less you wanna be a tease."

River watched him. He really was quite a specimen: all muscles and hardheaded brawn. Not much upstairs but that didn't really matter; she had more than enough of that on her own. It was easy blocking out most of his thoughts because he was so single-minded, unlike the others who were a constant whirl of conflicting emotion. Jayne cared about one thing,and that thing was himself. The Alliance had taken away most of her brain's natural filters, but there were one or two that still functioned, and he fit nicely behind one of them. It made it remarkably easy to talk to him when they were alone. Refreshing, actually. She didn't end up stumbling over the tumble of her own words like she did with the others.

"We could have sex," she said.

His reaction was memorable. First his eyes widened to the point they looked like saucers. His skin flushed bright pink and his mouth pursed up in righteous horror before letting loose a slew of curses she'd never heard before. She filed them away for later use.

"Don't go sayin' things like that!" he fretted when he'd gotten all the swearing out of his system. "'Tain't right!"

"It would solve the problem," she continued calmly. "The immediate anatomical inconvenience would be satisfied and the post-coital state of tranquility would aid in hibernation."

Jayne blinked at her. "Uh... what?"

"You would feel sleepy."

Jayne glared at her. "You just listen here," he said angrily. "I ain't havin' sex with no little girl."

River rolled her eyes. "The girl will celebrate eighteen summers in two weeks," she told him.

"Eighteen sum... You sayin' your birthday's in two weeks?"

"Correct."

"Uh..."

"If you are worried about impregnation, don't. Indicators are that the girl's body is not in the optimum cycle for fertilization."

Jayne blushed darker. She hadn't thought he could blush at all, and now he was turning red as a cooked lobster. "You oughtn't be talkin' about it like that," he muttered.

She furrowed her brow. "Like what?"

"Sex and all," he said, visibly uncomfortable. "Like it's some kind of... experiment or somethin'. 'Snot like that."

She blinked at him. "It is. For me."

Jayne looked at her then, eyes wary. "Whaddaya mean?"

The filter was breaking down a little now and she was finding it more difficult to articulate her thoughts. That was what happened when she started getting upset, and she hated it. It was when she was upset that she most clearly needed to tell the others what was wrong. Why did her idiot body have to betray her like this every time?

"Blue hands," she heard herself whimper, and immediately wanted to snatch the words back. "Blue hands with bad ideas." She bit her lip, fighting the urge to curl up again as she'd done earlier. Tears were perched on her lashes.

"Hey now..." Jayne's hand touched her cheek and she jumped a little, raising her eyes to find his face again, sending tears spilling down her cheeks to pool against his thumb. She could feel confusion and concern pouring off him in waves, mingling with her own fear and helplessness and leaving her mired in a boiling kettle of misery. "You sayin' they... did stuff to you?"

A sharp nod. That was all she could manage.

The tidal wave of anger that washed over her nearly took her breath away. As it was, she gasped under the onslaught. Jayne didn't notice, his hand tightening against her cheek as his face turned to stone. "Qin wode pigu, gou shi gan ni niang," he swore angrily. "No good go se dog-fucking hundan!" he snarled. "Doin' that stuff to little girls!"

River could only whimper in response. His anger was overwhelming on top of her own dark memories. She didn't remember any of the experiments too clearly; only that they'd been cold and clinical and very, very lonely. The Blue Hands didn't believe in interpersonal contact. She remembered rooms full of shiny metal equipment and cold steel tables, everything automated, as they trained her body to respond as they wanted her to respond. They were training her to be a killer, not a woman, which meant she couldn't act like a woman even when her barriers were shredded down completely. She remembered bright lights and cold, cold metal and-

Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted as she felt warm arms wrap around her, pulling her up tight against a broad chest covered in bristles. Blinking and gasping, she struggled to drag herself back to reality, digging her nails into his arms to ground herself in the here and now. "Hey now, calm down," she heard him saying near her ear, gruff voice tempered by anxiety. She realized she was shaking uncontrollably and figured this must have been part of the reason for his unease. "I didn't mean to go bringin' up bad memories, mei mei. Jus' big, dumb Jayne bein' a stupid ox again. 'Sokay. 'Sgonna be all right..."

The sound of his voice was soothing, as was the warm press of his flesh against her own. He'd called her "mei mei"; that was a first. "A hundred and one apologies," she whispered shakily, pressing her face into his throat and letting the rhythm of his pulse control her breathing. "The girl is sorry, so sorry, so sorry sorry sorry..."

"He now, don't go talkin' like you done somethin' wrong, yeah?" Jayne told her firmly. "I shouldn't've gone pryin' like that." He sighed, and she could feel his anger slowly beginning to ebb, though it wasn't going away. "Does your brother know?"

Sniffle. "Bits."

"You gonna tell him more?"

"No."

She felt him nod and was thankful that he let the matter drop for now. Relaxing into his arms, she felt her blinding terror begin to leech away. It was obvious that he wasn't used to comforting people, but he'd had training somewhere along the way. "Sisters," she murmured dreamily, letting her fingers uncurl so they no longer dug into his biceps. There was blood under her nails.

"Huh?" he asked, still rubbing her back.

"You used to beat up the boys who teased your sisters," she murmured, reading his memories without conscious thought. "They used to cry on your shoulder and you'd go turn the boys to bloody puddles."

"Yeah, well, man's gotta protect his own."

"Is River your own?"

Jayne cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Just go back to sleep, all right?" he hedged. "No more sex talk."

She raised her head and found his face with her eyes. There was a hint of whiskey on his breath; he must have taken a drink before bed and it hadn't faded away yet. "She is," she murmured, nodding. "She is one of your own."

"Look, just cuz I'm feelin' a little sorry for you don't mean-" he started, but she stopped him with a kiss. It seemed the easiest thing to do.

Continued in Part Two