Jayne looked up as the girl entered the room. He had known it was her coming practically from the first audible footstep that had reached him; he knew all of their treads, in all of their moods. That fact had scared him a little at first. If I know them that well, means they've got to know stuff about me, he had realized. Been a long time since I was around the same folks long enough for any of 'em to get to be knowing stuff about me. He wasn't entirely sure he liked the idea. Knowledge, his ma had reminded him constantly when he was a boy, was power. They've got knowledge of me, means they've got power over me, maybe. Don't much like the thought of that. Gives others the advantage. If he had learned anything in this life, it was that it was best to keep your enemies from getting any advantage over you.

Eventually, though, those patterns had become less of an alarm and more of a comfort, a way to read the people around him whose lives he had come to value as much as-and, he sometimes worried, more than-his own. He slept best on nights when Zoe or Mal's paces passed his bunk every hour, secure in the knowledge that they, like him, were more sensitive to trouble than the others. Kaylee had developed a new note in her walk after Simon had come aboard, and before the Tams had been on Serenity a month he could tell how her romantic attempts were proceeding just from the sound of her climbing down the ladder into her bunk. Inara's mathematically measured stride had seemed cold to him, unchanging and bound, until he had heard the subtly reluctant dragging her feet did whenever she walked away from Mal.

He could remember how the approach of the other two had made him felt, too, if he wanted to. In the days after Miranda he had often indulged in those aural reveries, allowing himself to pretend that at any moment one of them would arrive in the room with some line or look that was so basic to their personality that no one else in the Verse could ever quite match it. He had only stopped the daydreams when he nearly blurted out in front of the entire remaining crew that they would have a better game of charades if they waited a few more seconds for Wash to arrive so he could do one of his funny animals. His lip had hurt for nearly a week where he'd bitten down on it to keep those awful words at bay, and testing the slight scar now with his tongue he was glad that he had been able to box up those memories and cache them away.

This one, though...she still managed to surprise him sometimes, when he wasn't paying attention all the way or when she was in a particularly crafty mood. She's gotta know that I know how they all sound, he'd puzzled a few weeks earlier, deciding that she was altering her pattern on purpose after she'd imitated Kaylee so perfectly he'd jumped when it was her behind him and not the mechanic. Well, least she ain't doing it right now. Walkin' like herself, being chased by her brother if I'm hearing right.

She cocked her head at him from the doorway, her expression twisted into a look of pure curiosity that sent shivers down his spine. "What're you starin' at, girl?" he asked, his voice rougher than he had intended it. Can't hardly blame myself, though. Never know what that girl's plannin' to do til she's done it, and that look she's got on ain't exactly sunshine and rainbows.

"Quandary," she mused. "Levels she has not had the opportunity to consider before are unexpectedly open."

"...Mal doesn't lock any of the decks," he managed out of his confusion, assuming she was talking about having discovered some new part of the ship. As he spoke he glanced around to make sure there were no sharp objects within her reach.

"River, what-" Simon stopped behind her, his mildly annoyed focus traveling from her to Jayne and immediately deepening. As he considered the seated man, however, his look changed into one of profound disbelief. "Are you...reading?" he sputtered finally, crossing his arms.

"Yeah. So what?" Jayne challenged. "Ain't like I'm illiterate or somethin'," he added on in a mumble.

"No one would know that from the manner in which you comport yourself on a daily basis," Simon shot back. "Please tell me you haven't got one of my library in your no doubt filthy paws?"

"Wouldn't touch that go se you've got." Not like I've ever seen you actually read anything 'sides a medical book since you got here, no matter how much you jaw on about this and that fella jawin' on about stuff that no one can prove one way or the other.

"Good. I would greatly prefer that we keep things that way." He sniffed delicately and made to turn away, but the presence of something new on board the ship after three solid weeks in the Black was too much for him to ignore. "What are you reading, in any case?" he asked begrudgingly. Perhaps if it sounds interesting I could persuade Kaylee to borrow it from him for me. There is no way I could ever ask to do so myself, of course. I wouldn't want to see the satisfaction in his eyes, knowing he had something I want.

"Ain't nothin' you'd ever understand," Jayne nearly snorted at him.

"I seriously doubt that you are capable of understanding something that I cannot. In fact, I suspect that the opposite is true."

"And you reckon I'm going to let you in on this here story now you've called me an idjit?" The mercenary scoffed. "Don't figure that'll be happening, Doc."

"Fine," Simon said haughtily after a second of slightly reticent silence. "I wasn't interested in any case. It's most likely just some variety of the usual smut you seem to revel in. If," he emphasized, "you're even reading it."

Jayne wasn't sure if Simon was suggesting that the thick sheaf of pages in his hands was full of pictures or if he was just trying to call him stupid again, but he knew he was being insulted. "Qu ni de," he retorted, reddening a bit as the surgeon continued to degrade his intelligence. I ruttin' hate it when he treats me like I'm some sort of bai chi. Just cause I ain't as quick as him at schoolin' type stuff ain't no reason to be such an ass about it. I'm quick enough at other things to have saved his pansy hide more'n once. He thought for a moment. Reckon he's saved mine a time or two, too, but that ain't the point. I ain't the one callin' names.

Finally seeing no reason to remain in the room, Simon prepared to exit. "Come on, River," he coaxed his sister. "There's another test I would like to run-"

"No." The refusal was flat, and left no room for argument. The surgeon sighed heavily.

"All right. We can perform the test tomorrow, then. But please come away from here." At the last he shot a heavy look towards Jayne, who sat quietly watching. Away from him, and whatever he is pretending to do with that book.

"No." She craned her neck around to stare at her brother. "Curiosity did not kill the cat; the fault was in the cat's inattentiveness to it's surroundings." She paused, waiting for his resolve to crumble, and continued only when it became clear that he wasn't quite ready to leave her alone with him. You must go, she thought anxiously. There are too many questions. Too many emotions to be explored. He can't hide from me right now. "The girl is always attentive to her surroundings," she tacked on, finally getting the reaction she wanted as his shoulders dropped in defeat.

"Very well. Don't stay too long in here, though, unless there's someone else with you."

Her nose wrinkled at him. "There already is," she reminded him, gesturing to the still unspeaking Jayne. "This is the safe room."

"For you, maybe," the seated man muttered, his eyes coursing along the wall where the kitchen knives had once hung. Awfully glad Mal agreed to stick all that steel back in the drawers. Least now she's gotta make some sort of sound to get at them, maybe give a person a bit of warning before they get stabbed at. Again.

"I'm not going to stab you. Again." Her words were crafted to purposefully echo the cadence of his last thought, and he made a face at her as he realized she had been doing her mental eavesdropping again. "Neither will he stab me," she told the still lurking Simon.

"I'm leaving," he said defensively, perturbed by her obvious desire to be free of his presence. "I was only concerned for your safety."

"Kaylee is in the engine room," River called after him. When he had faded into the distance enough, she stepped softly across the room and sat down, staring across the table. "It's a good story?"

Jayne shifted uncomfortably. Now I suppose you're looking to make fun of me too, only you'll do it in more syllables than a person should rightly be able to pronounce. "Ain't none of your business," he nearly whined, beginning to turn away. "I wasn't doing nothing to nobody, just sitting here. Wasn't even making noise."

She reached out and grabbed his wrist in an attempt to stop him from leaving. "Girl does not intend to convert the situation into a farce. She is merely interested in why you no longer have so many walls."

"Walls?" Not understanding her meaning, he faced her again, the thick book still clutched tightly in one hand. "What're you talking about?"

"Walls up here." Stretching across the table, she tapped his forehead before he could pull back. "And stronger ones here," she continued, her hand moving to briefly rest over his heart. "Not so strong right now. Your walls are down."

He blinked at her, clearly uncomfortable at the profundity-and truthfulness-of her words. "It is a good story," he allowed finally, determining to say nothing more on the subject as he hastily tried to reorganize the internal defenses whose current weakness she had noted. Going to have to burn this thing, he thought regretfully. And I ain't even half finished with it. Figures, every time a man gets something with some real pleasure attached it gets taken away practically before he can appreciate it.

"No!" she protested immediately. "No fire!"

"Gorram it, girl, you ain't supposed to read crew and you know it. Just...get out of my head. I didn't do nothing to you to deserve havin' all my private thoughts poked around in."

She pulled back a little, surprised at the honestly hurt look that he was trying so desperately to disguise as malice. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "Girl didn't know. Please do not burn it, Jayne."

"Walls are put up for reasons, girlie," he lectured after a moment of contemplating her odd apology. "I got some real good reasons for mine. Reasons," he added hastily, "that ain't any of your business to be asking about or investigatin' in some other way. Dong ma?"

Biting at the inside of her cheek, she twisted her fingers around themselves, trying to decide if he would accept the bargain she was tempted to offer. "If girl does not intrude upon your cogitations, you will not burn the book?"

Ain't a half bad deal. She was grinning before he spoke the words cautiously out loud. "Minute I think you're trying to spy on my mind, I put a match to it," he warned. "No cheating."

"Girl will not intrude. No cheating," she repeated. He did not ask for the definition of cogitation, yet past experience dictates that vocabulary of four syllables or more generally must be explained in his presence. Her head bent inquisitively toward her shoulder again. Perhaps he did not really need to be told what some of the other words meant, either? He had been perusing a rather weighty-looking tome, after all, and if the state of his mental and emotional bastions was any indication he had been quite lost in it's subject matter. She had liked the feelings that had been emanating from him; peace, a sense of connection and belonging, and that strange sense of loyalty she had sensed in him before only when his thoughts were highly concentrated on one of his two families. Quite simply, she realized, he had been greatly enjoying his reading matter, and she and Simon had interrupted his pleasure. Remembering how her brother had accused the mercenary of illiteracy, she pouted suddenly.

"What is it now?" Jayne asked, a note of irritation in his voice. Reckon I had some thought or something what didn't sit right with her, and I'll be in the dog house all night on account of it. Seems it's always my ruttin' fault she's in my head, looking where she oughtn't. She goes all feng leh now and everyone'll just assume it was something I did. Ain't fair.

"Girl will not tell," she promised. "Girl is also sorry for Simon."

"What, Kaylee mad at him again for him doing something stupid?"

"No," she corrected, shaking her head. "Girl is sorry brother boob was mean."

"To Kaylee?" he asked suspiciously, his brow knitting as anger began to gather in his eyes.

"To you."

He froze at that. "Hell, girl, I don't listen to half of what he spits out anyway. Ain't got time to pay attention to what he thinks, and I wouldn't care much even if I did."

She knew it was a lie. She had sensed much too clearly the old pain that Simon's lashing words had riled up, and she suddenly understood that Jayne felt that pain at all times, although to varying degrees. He wasn't stupid, he'd just learned early on to carry a dumb look on his face as a way to protect himself, first from bigger and truly unintelligent children who saw him as a threat and later, when he was the big one, from those who knew that an intelligent mercenary was also an uncommonly dangerous one, and therefore too risky to keep around. Whatever was in that book he refused to release, it had made him drop the pretense he lived daily for the briefest of moments.

For some reason she could not fathom, she did not want him to put the mask back on. She did not want him to use her interruption and Simon's blunt bullying to close off once and for all whatever hidden door in the walls the book had managed to find. As smooth as life on the ship could be when Jayne was contented, she couldn't help but wonder at how it might be if he was allowed to be happy. "If the girl leaves you alone, you will keep going?"

"I dunno," he shrugged. "Maybe. Spell's kind of broken now."

"Not broken, just gone away, maybe? It could come back," she said hopefully.

"Maybe," he conceded, heaving a heavy sigh as he stood up. "I'll be in my bunk if anyone's asking after me."

"Jayne!"

He turned back to her, one eyebrow raised in question.

"Please don't burn it?" she begged.

He let his gaze fall to the item in his hand. "Don't reckon that'll be necessary," he agreed quietly before he vanished, heading off toward the crew quarters.

I promise more to come for those of you who want to know just what Jayne was reading. And for fans of Dear Ma, no worries; that story is still in full swing. This wild pony just ran by, and I couldn't help but grab on and go for a ride. As always, reviews are welcomed with open arms, appreciated loudly, fed cookies and overall adored. Thanks for reading!