River was washing dishes when Jayne came in to clean his guns. River liked washing dishes. A simple task for a normal person. She was glad now that Mal trusted her enough not to break things and lose control. She was better. Nearly. Able to live and breathe and act like a normal young woman. Able to play pranks like the others and be called mischievous, not childish. Able to be. Just be.

Jayne reached across her for a cup, filled it with coffee, and set to cleaning, filling the room with the scent of gun oil. He hocked loudly and she glowered at him, feeling the grate in her own throat reflecting his memory. He was thinking of her again. Thinking of that time she’d beat him up and Simon put her to sleep. Thinking of the quiet after. Remembering how Mal scooped her up and carried her back to the ship with him limping behind.

River hated that he saw her so helpless. She hated that he thought of her at all, but it always seemed right on the surface of his mind these days. And he always saw her helpless. Times when she was out of control. Out of her mind. Vulnerable. And she loathed it. She quickly averted her mind, trying to find images that weren’t her in a box. Her in the Infirmary. Her ripping labels off soup cans. Stupid Jayne! Clean your guns somewhere else!

Jayne spilled his gun oil and swore loudly. River tossed him a damp rag, smirking at his self-criticism. A minute later, Kaylee skipped into the dining room, all smiles, glowing from fresh sex. She shimmied up next to River, bumped her hips cheerfully, and chattered as she helped dry and put away the dishes. Kaylee was always chatty after sex. Simon was always sleeping. Those two had so much sex these days, River was almost bored by it. She was glad to offer advice though, mostly because it totally embarrassed Simon when she told him what she knew. He’d run screaming most times, but he listened, and he was getting much better at pleasing Kaylee. A fact which impacted River more that she cared to admit. But such was her life now.

It had been so con