Confessions of an Adamaniac

Title: Nothing Is As It Used To Be (3/?)
Fandom: Firefly
Pairing, etc: River/Jayne
Prompt: # 61 "Winter" for fanfic100
Rating: PG (more angst)
Disclaimer: Jayne is all mine. Yes he is. Uh huh. Shut up. Yes he is. *fingers in ears* Lalalalalalalalalalalala
Author's Notes: This is now somewhere securely in the realm of AU since the fic I had planned was already (somewhat) written. By God Himself, no less. See what I get for not seeing all the eps of Buffy ? Oh well. Sequel to "What If", and Deja Vu




Jayne pulled his coat tighter against his body in an attempt to ward off the cold. Threadbare and moth-ridden the cloth threatened to fall apart at any moment. But Jayne hadn’t wanted to waste money on a new one; and of course it was his luck that all of the recent jobs he'd had kept him on warmer planets or on continents still basking in the heat of Summer.

But here on Osiris it was definitely Winter.

Huddled inside his coat as he walked, Jayne thought back, ruefully, on all that had happened on his way to get here.

Unfortunately, Badger had yet to set up his operation on Persephone, and so he and Stitch had been forced to sell the skiff to a shifty stranger for less than a tenth of its worth. Aimlessly wandering the streets near the Eavesdown Docks the two of them looked for work, a mark, anything. After a few hours, they found a card game to get in on where they tried, unsuccessfully, to increase their meager bankroll. And when a pick-pocket fleeced him of what little he had left, Hessian fumed, scathingly cursing at Jayne for picking this half-assed planet.

Jayne tried to smooth his feathers by taking him to a bar he’d seen last time he'd there with…

Gulping heavily, Jayne pushed that memory aside and continued on remembering how, well, even that managed to go wrong. At first the bartender refused to serve them, claiming something about knowing Stitch; then, just as they turned to leave she changed her mind. Jayne woke up the next day in some filthy room, stripped of everything they had, and his partner shot dead on the floor. Groggy, he’d tried to get away, tried to hide because all he could remember was drinking 3 beers and a couple of shots. But he knew he hadn’t done Stitch in—-just knew it.

The law however, had another opinion on the matter.

There weren’t any witnesses to say they'd seen him do it, no gunpowder residue or blood on his hands or clothes, and the fingerprints on Boo weren’t even his. People interviewed had even said he’d been friendly enough at the bar. Between the testimonials and the circumstantial evidence, the case hadn’t been all that strong; a good court appointed attorney helped as well, so it added up to three years for manslaughter.

He'd been very lucky. And was once again as, due to chronic over-crowding and with good behavior, Jayne was out in a year and a half. He found work where he could, saving every credit he earned--practically starving himself in the effort. It was tough. It had taken him the better part of six months; but finally, he had earned enough money and here he was, two years after having seen her last, standing outside the Tam estate on Osiris.

He had to see her, see if she’d still been sent to the Academy. And if she hadn’t he needed to know if she remembered him, and to find out if all he thought he knew had just been an hallucination. Rubbing his hands together and blowing into them for warmth, Jayne craned his neck and searched the front yard, but he couldn’t see anything. So, jogging in an effort to warm his body more, he circled around to each side only to find all of those windows dark as well. Finally, he climbed the tree growing between the fence and the sidewalk on the south end of the property. Eagerly he looked over the fence and the extra tall hedgerow into the back yard.

There, dressed in a huge parka and a long flowing wool skirt, River twirled and danced in happy abandon; laughing as she tried to catch the snow with her tongue as it began to fall from the sky.

River. His River.

No, he realized, a much younger version of the woman he’d married. A happy, beautiful and carefree girl, something she’d never been in the entire time he’d known her; and since she was here and not the Academy, he figured she was probably sane now too. No needles in her eyes, no cutting on her brain, so special assassin training.

And when he heard her laugh and call to Simon, asking him to dance with her…Jayne felt his heart clench in anguish. But for once Jayne wanted to be the noble creature she always thought he was. So, he decided it would be in her best interest to just leave her be.

He didn’t think there was any way she’d believe the story he had to tell her—hell even he had trouble believing that 5 years were simply gone and replaced with 2 new ones. Besides that, River would now be only 16, and there wasn’t any way her parents, let alone that uptight brother of hers, would allow a man like him to court her. Even if he had a job and she weren’t jail-bait. Girls like her were out of his league.

There was simply no future for them—-not together.

With a sigh Jayne settled back against the trunk of the tree, his heavy boot swinging aimlessly, his breath swirling in front of him. His eyes burned as the wind picked up his tears and tried to whisk them away before they froze on his face. Sitting there, no longer even feeling the bone-deep cold, he watched the love of his life dance--promising himself that it would only be for a short while longer.

But, then again, if this was going to be the last time he got to see her, he wanted it to last for as long as possible. After all, he needed memories to last him a life time.

TBC