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Jayne isn't stupid.
He knew he was a little slow; simple they used to call him at home. Hell, he certainly weren’t no rutting genius like the Doc; or even like Kaylee, who was a genius with her hands and an engine. He was good in a fight, if he cared to be, and he could shoot pretty straight, but he wasn't book-learnin' kinda smart. But he sure wasn’t near as stupid as people thought he was.
What Jayne was, was cunning. He watched.
He didn’t act like he was watchin’, of course, but he was always paying attention. Jayne watched little Kaylee throw herself at the Doc day after day; knowing that it was hopeless, and that her heart would get broken. The poor little thing didn’t see the way the Doc’s eyes watched Mal’s every move, lingering on him. He weren’t the only one watching Mal though. Inara watched him too. Sorta sadly, her eyes dark and still.
Jayne didn’t much like to be around Inara. She made him feel big and dumb and clumsy. It was like being a kid again; dirty, in patched clothes, mucking out rich folk’s stables for barely enough money to feed himself, let alone the rest of the family. Inara was like those folks, smooth and graceful and pretty and soft. Sometimes if Jayne looked at her for too long he got dizzy and sore-headed, like he’d stared at the burning sun too long. So he tried not to watch her.
Now, little River… he liked to watch her. She was kinda sweet-pretty; like his little sisters were. But the times he liked River best was when she’d watch him. She’d try to sneak up, huddle in a ball that seemed too small to be a girl and stare at him. She especially liked to watch Jayne when he was cleaning his guns. Her eyes would never leave his hands, and she would sit mouse-quiet until he was finished. Her eyes on him made him feel less clumsy; made him feel almost graceful as he oiled and took apart his guns. Jayne hadn't never felt graceful before, except when he was fightin'.
Jayne didn’t like how the Doc flitted around her, trying to fix her head though. Jayne thought she seemed okay; maybe not all there, but enough. When Simon did that it reminded Jayne of too much of the way his mother had hovered over little Sarahlyn. His poor simple-minded baby sister, barely smart enough to stay by herself while their Ma took on washing to help make ends meet. Sarahlyn had always been so bright, full of light and smiles; kinda like Kaylee was. But then those rutting monsters pretending to be soldiers had gotten hold of her; attracted by her long white-yellow hair and her wide empty eyes. They thought no one would catch them, and they'd broken her. And even after Jayne had stopped it; even after he made them hurt for it, she was still broken. She never smiled no more after that day, never laughed. Never spoke, not even to Jayne the night he left. Ma had even stopped talking ‘bout her in the letters, which meant she weren’t no better.
If there was one thing in the ‘verse that Jayne knew, it was how to take care of his family. He sent part of his pay home when he could, keeping what he needed to get by. He always answered his Ma’s letters too. He wasn’t real good with the readin’ or the writin’, but he did his best, hunched over in his bunk, all of his concentration on the message he was wanting to write. He missed his Ma, and his sisters. He wanted to visit them more then anythin’, but they weren’t nowhere close, and Jayne wasn’t gonna ask Mal to go out of his way for him.
So he just watched his new family, the ones aboard Serenity.
Jayne liked the old ship, he did. He liked to wander the empty corridors when every one else was asleep, to climb the ladder down into his own bunk, to see his space, which was a luxury he hadn’t ever had before. He felt safe on Serenity. Some times he almost felt like he belonged there.
But more then wandering the ship Jayne liked the girl who kept her runnin’. Little Kaylee. He watched her the same way River watched him; wide-eyed, entranced. He liked to follow her small hands as they moved confidently over the complicated engine, pretty even with the grease all over them. Her smile, wide even when she was hurting, ‘cause she was just that kinda person. He liked to watch Kaylee best of all.
Sometimes he even dreamed about her; warm pretty dreams filled with light and laughing. Then he’d wake up aching, ‘cause the real Kaylee always looked at him like he was something she wanted to squash. He wasn’t smooth like Mal, or funny like Wash, or even shy like the Doc. Jayne was coarse and rude and blunt. He didn’t know no other way to be. So Kaylee kept looking at him with her brown wounded eyes, and he kept dreaming about her.
When they all gathered to eat together Jayne would look up from Kaylee’s hands only to catch Inara’s eyes watching Mal in the same way. Both of them looking a little sad and wishing for things they never could get. What a rutting pair they were, a mercenary wanting an innocent, and a whore wanting a man who pretended to not want anyone. Didn’t make no sense.
It could never happen, Jayne knew that. Not even if Kaylee one day looked at him the way she looked at the Doc. Jayne tried to imagine Mal’s reaction if he found out how Jayne felt. He was sure to kick Jayne off his boat, that was the gorram truth. Mal might act like he only tolerated his crew out of need, but he liked ‘em. At least he liked some of ‘em. Zoë and Wash, the Doc, Book… even crazy little River. Inara he liked too, even if he wouldn’t admit to it. But Mal had a special place in his heart for little Kaylee. Jayne knew she’d been nothing more then a slip of a girl when Mal took her on as the mechanic, and though she’d changed mightily since Jayne had known her, she still was just a little girl. With soft dreams of a pretty green planet with a house and lotsa kids, and the Doc coming home every night. Pleasant enough dreams, Jayne supposed, but they were about the Doc, or a man like him. Not about the kinda man Jayne was.
So Jayne just dreamed. And watched.
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