Teaser gift for gilove2dance
There's a teaser drabble behind the cut for gilove2dance!
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Secret Santa's note: It's a quadruple drabble, set after the BDM, with Jayne as the focus, and River as HIS focus.
***
She’s twirling again, in the cargo hold, arms out and high in angles that sorta remind him of them fancy Core dancers he saw on a data file once. Weren’t his decision to look; just happened to be there is all, and the whore he was with at the time wanted to be like the ballerinas. She was a bigger girl, busty, lots to hold onto, but she ain’t no ballerina. River… was little. Thin, but strong. Hell, he remembered how strong she was under that mop of stringy hair and shapeless dresses. He remembered - to each painfully detailed moment - how she’d grabbed his man-parts and held him there at Fanty and Mingo’s. She’d literally had him by the balls; usually he’d have to pay for that sort of service. The area in question twitched a might at the memory, and he suppressed a groan.
He leaned over the railing for a better look. She moved so smoothlike. She’d turned a bunch of times in a row and then stopped, reaching a hand out in front of her like she was looking to hold hands with someone not there, and she let it drop. She turned slowly to look up at the gangplank, looking straight at him. She tilted her head in that disturbing moon-brained way, like she was trying to read through a guy, then twirled quickly on her toes and mimed an exaggerated waltz.
He huffed, and stomped back to the kitchen, refusing to look back at her. Ain’t no way moonbrain were going to read him, not if he had anything to say about it. If she had, she’d see stuff that weren’t fit for “polite company” as Mal called it. The way she moved was like she didn’t need to walk on the ground; she glided. And everything was precise, like a sharpshooter, but flowed like water it was so easy-looking. That’s what was getting to him, and more importantly making other parts of his anatomy harder to ignore. He groaned, louder this time, and sat in one of the wooden chairs around the big table. He can’t be thinking of Crazy like that, no matter how her skirt showed more of them legs of hers when she twirled. He’ll just sit it out until this passes, and he’s no longer catching crazy from her.
“I give up,” he finally said, and walked quickly to his bunk.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Secret Santa's note: It's a quadruple drabble, set after the BDM, with Jayne as the focus, and River as HIS focus.
***
She’s twirling again, in the cargo hold, arms out and high in angles that sorta remind him of them fancy Core dancers he saw on a data file once. Weren’t his decision to look; just happened to be there is all, and the whore he was with at the time wanted to be like the ballerinas. She was a bigger girl, busty, lots to hold onto, but she ain’t no ballerina. River… was little. Thin, but strong. Hell, he remembered how strong she was under that mop of stringy hair and shapeless dresses. He remembered - to each painfully detailed moment - how she’d grabbed his man-parts and held him there at Fanty and Mingo’s. She’d literally had him by the balls; usually he’d have to pay for that sort of service. The area in question twitched a might at the memory, and he suppressed a groan.
He leaned over the railing for a better look. She moved so smoothlike. She’d turned a bunch of times in a row and then stopped, reaching a hand out in front of her like she was looking to hold hands with someone not there, and she let it drop. She turned slowly to look up at the gangplank, looking straight at him. She tilted her head in that disturbing moon-brained way, like she was trying to read through a guy, then twirled quickly on her toes and mimed an exaggerated waltz.
He huffed, and stomped back to the kitchen, refusing to look back at her. Ain’t no way moonbrain were going to read him, not if he had anything to say about it. If she had, she’d see stuff that weren’t fit for “polite company” as Mal called it. The way she moved was like she didn’t need to walk on the ground; she glided. And everything was precise, like a sharpshooter, but flowed like water it was so easy-looking. That’s what was getting to him, and more importantly making other parts of his anatomy harder to ignore. He groaned, louder this time, and sat in one of the wooden chairs around the big table. He can’t be thinking of Crazy like that, no matter how her skirt showed more of them legs of hers when she twirled. He’ll just sit it out until this passes, and he’s no longer catching crazy from her.
“I give up,” he finally said, and walked quickly to his bunk.