Disclaimer: I still don't own anything Firefly-related. It still all belongs to the mind of Joss Whedon. And yes, he is still amazing.
Summary: More Rayne fluff. I'm hopeless.
River looked down between herself and Jayne at their clasped hands, and marveled for the millionth time how much smaller her hands were than his. His hands were large, to match the rest of him, and her own looked like a child's beside his; it was like matching the paws of a house cat to those of a lion. But this house cat had claws to rival her lion's, yes she did…
What never ceased to amaze her about the size difference of their hands was that it didn't seem to matter; despite the size difference, their hands just seemed to match up, like puzzle pieces. It never felt awkward or uncomfortable to hold Jayne's hand, but at first glance, it would seem like his hands were too big to fit so comfortably with her own.
His large hands had steadied her as she fell, or held her when she was afraid or sad, or had run over her skin in the heat of passion. Her own hands had done much the same for him.
Jayne was not a man of many words. He tried, for her, when she asked him questions, but he was more a man of action. His hands told her what his vocal chords could not. His hands told her that he was there for her, that she was safe with him, and that he wanted her and desired her. And at simple times like this, when they were just sitting with the crew, swapping stories and laughing, his hands told her he wanted her to be with him, by his side.
They held hands through the evening, and every now and then one of them would give a squeeze for no particular reason. Just a subconscious reassurance that was always returned by the other.
And when the crew split for the night, River and Jayne walked hand-in-hand down to his bunk. Once inside, River put her hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat under the skin and muscle, and whispered what her hands were saying for her. "I love you."
Jayne's own hand came to brush across her shoulder and push a piece of hair out of her face before his thumb trailed over her lips. "I love you too," his voice said what his own hands had already articulated, just before he leaned down to kiss her.