*** "Jayne ain't a girl," River said. All was quiet in the outskirts of Blue Landing. It was hot and dusty on the road into town, but shady in the grove where Serenity sat. Jayne didn't really know why he was sittin' out under this tree in this grove when he could be in town drinkin', and perhaps locatin' some fine professional ladies for nighttime hijinks. He had some sort of money; he'd sent a good chunk of cash home to Berta and Make, but he'd actually made out on this last run. He could've bought himself the prettiest piece of girlflesh that was up for sale in Blue Landing, he thought, watching the light through the trees dapple River in shadow and color, shadow and color, over and over again. She was sitting in front of him, cross-legged, playing one of those string games where you wrap the string around your fingers to make patterns out of other patterns. River, being River, had some sort of intertwined dodecahedron-star going on; she flicked her wrists and ended up with four straight parallel lines. He wondered how much she knew of what he was thinking. He wondered what in particular he was thinking. "Coulda gotten me a pretty little redhead," he said, and spat. River looked at him with that crazy wisdom in her big brown gaze. He sometimes wondered who she'd been when she'd been normal...well, recently, anyway, he'd been wondering that sort of thing. Wondering how bad Simon missed the sister he'd known--wondering how bad River missed herself. Wondering how it felt...how it felt to be hurt, and unable to hurt back. "Pain," she said, "is unanticipatable." "Hmm?" he said. "Can't account for it because can't remember it," River said. "Unrecreatable. The one thing. Patternless." And her wrists made another flick: diamonds appeared between her fingers. "New every time." Jayne thought of Sadie, but sort of dully, like he didn't know how. She'd always been the good one--he thought it again, as he'd thought it before, like a list. She'd been the good twin. She'd been in class when he'd been out rolling the Tomsaid brothers for their lunch money. Nobody ever closer to him. Never again. They'd even been the same height. Who murders a girl taller than him? Jayne thought, trying to remember the feeling of crushing that short bastard Mondigliani's windpipe--the feel of the action of killing his sister's killer. No, really, though, who DOES that? Mondigliani must've snuck up on Sadie; there's no other way he could've done it, Jayne thought, again, as he'd thought before. Sadie is a fighter. Was. Gorramit, Jayne. Was. It had all happened months ago, anyway. What was wrong with him? You're Jayne Cobb, Jayne thought to himself. Pull your gorram parts up. River dropped her string and stood in one fluid motion. She was smiling suddenly, a little sister smile. "Uh-oh," Jayne muttered, remembering how Make used to smile when she wanted something from him. River grabbed his wrist and tugged. Jane rose from his rock with a sigh, portraying reluctant obedience, and followed, lumbering bemusedly as she began to run, light as a leaf on a liquid current. "Where're we goin'?" Jayne projected after about five minutes. "You'll see," River tossed back. "Ain't nothin' but more trees," Jayne said to her. "More of the same kind of tree, too." "This one," River said back, pointing, insistent, at a big-trunked tree with grand branches. Jayne didn't see much that was special about it, but he wasn't prepared for Miss Crazyhead to use her Alliance-programmed jujitsu-dance moves to pin him to its bark and then shove him down to sitting. "OWCH," Jayne said after a second. The bark had burned his back where his shirt had rucked up--it took a second to feel it. "Delayed reaction," River murmured, kneeling down in front of him. "What're we doin' now?" Jayne asked, looking at her warily as she examined his face with snake-charmer eyes. "Kaylee is beautiful," she murmured, concentrating closely on his eyebrows and then his chin. She touched his cheek, ran delicate, warm fingers over the growth of beard there. "Owch," she said, eyes narrowed in thought. "What're you doing?" Jayne asked in amazement. "If I tell you, you'll just say no," River said quite clearly. "Why would I say no?" Jayne asked. "I'm Jayne Cobb, gorrammit." "Well," River said patiently, "will you kiss me?" "No," Jayne said. "See, I told you," River said, and leaned in. Jayne waited to see what was coming. It seemed pretty obvious, but he was in wild territory right now--anything could happen. Maybe she'll jujitsu me again, he thought, almost lucidly, feeling her breath on his lips, her little hand still on his face... She kissed him. It had been a long time since Jayne Cobb had kissed anyone on the mouth. River's concentration was deep and wide--she kissed him earnestly, her sweet little lips on his, absolutely unsure and absolutely determined. It made him want to laugh, almost, and then suddenly it didn't. He was careful of where he put his hands on her, careful that his kisses didn't hurt, didn't mark--she pulled herself closer to him and suddenly he was tugging at her hair, wondering, with what of him had the capacity to think at all, where this siren had come from, lost in her lips, what her tongue and teeth did to him. She was fierce. She picked things up quickly. He was used to women being fun--she wasn't fun; she was more than fun. She pulled her face away and rested her forehead on his. His brain was mush. "I didn't know," she was whispering. Her mouth was trembling, smiling. Jayne looked at her. He wanted her. She was stopping here? Now? She looked at him and he saw what she meant: she had no idea. Best to take this stepwise. If at all. Jayne realized he agreed, wholeheartedly. When she pulled him up, he went, following her obediently back to the grove. At its edge she stopped and turned. "Maybe we shouldn't tell," she said softly. "Hunh, maybe not," Jayne agreed. "River, I--" "Do you know what to say?" River asked, searching his face. "No," Jayne admitted after a minute. "Then don't say anything." She dropped his wrist and entered the grove, picking up her string and getting back on board Serenity. Jayne watched her go. Had it been cathartic, or just kissin'? It had been more than kissin'. But Jayne still didn't know what to do with himself.