Disclaimer: characters and 'verse not mine, Joss's

Hairy

She just plain made him nervous, that’s what she did. Like right now, sneakin’ her head ‘round the door, remindin’ him of a certain time in the infirmary and the phrase “kill you with my brain”.

“A person should be in the room, or out of it,” he muttered toward the door without lifting his head. “Stop pussyfootin’ around and pick one.”

She picked ‘in’, stepping through lightly on her bare dancer’s feet, and instead of heading to the kitchen like he’d expected, stopped on the other side of the table where he was working. She was wearing a shorter dress than she usually did, it ended right around her knees, and was full enough to kick up further when she walked. She had nice legs, he noticed, dancer’s legs, like her feet.

“I haven’t ever seen you pouring over paperwork before,” she said. He grunted.

“Don’t usually have any.”

“These are blueprints.”

“Ah, there’s that genius brain come outta hidin’.”

She was silent, and he glanced up to see if he’d offended her. Not that he cared, just that she had her non-crazy voice on, and it was – not nice, no, but – normal. And normal was good, if she had to be in here with him. Better than not-normal, anyway.

But she was only circling around to his side of the table, to stand on his right and bend over the blue-inked paper.

“What type of building does this depict?”

“Water bank.”

She tilted her head, not having heard the term before. Her unbound hair brushed his arm. He swiped at it, but she leaned in closer and it was back. He gave up. River stared intently at the print.

“A business establishment in which water is set aside for saving, investment, loan, or exchange?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Rationing, too, in this case.” Her head hair was tickling his arm hair.

She shook her head. Her zhouma hair slid up and down his arm and he clenched his jaw. Thing was, he didn’t really want it gone. Smelled pretty good, and looked softer and fuller than usual.

“What’d ya do, borrow some a’ Kaylee’s shampoo?” he asked before he thought better of it. He hoped she hadn’t noticed him noticing her hair yesterday, when she was up on that catwalk. Body parts were one thing; he was a breast man, a leg man, an anything-female-that-was-covered-with-skin man. But there weren’t no such thing as a hair man, it weren’t . . . manly.

“It is Inara’s shampoo,” River informed him, still studying the blueprint. “But she will show me where to buy it when we are next near a suitable shopping district.”

He didn’t know what to say to that and fell back to looking at the blueprint, although his train of thought – which had only been a few cars long, really – was completely off-track. He stared blankly until she spoke again.

“We are going to steal water?”

“Pretty much. Well, we’re gonna set it up so some locals can steal it, later, when we’re gone. Break in, ‘subvert’” – it had been Zoe’s word, and he’d looked it up on the Cortex, good word – “their surveillance, and give the locals time to put a tap in two or three of the reserve tanks. It’s a dry area, and locals have to pay for anything above their ration, see, only some pay more’n others dependin’ on their connections. They figure that’s not fair, and they’re willin’ to pay us to help ‘em get it fer free.” He fell silent abruptly, wondering why he was talkin’ so much.

“Surely fluid levels are monitored closely. Unwarranted drops would be noted.”

“So?”

“They will be caught.”

He shrugged. “Not till after we’ve left.”

The side view of her face didn’t look happy, but she didn’t say anything. Steps could be heard coming from the engine room, and Kaylee entered the galley, carrying something engine-ey. She was glaring down at it and muttering under her breath, but seeing the room’s two occupants, her daylight smile reasserted itself.

“Whatcha doin’?” she asked curiously, taking mental note of how close to Jayne River was standing, and how quietly Jayne was letting her stand there. But the girl straightened away from him, now. Her hair went with her. Jayne rubbed the arm that now felt naked while River answered the mechanic.

“We are debating the morality of transitorily righting a social wrong when the beneficiaries will be worse-off, in the long-term.”

Kaylee’s eyebrows described amazement. “You’re what? Jayne is – what?”

“Whatever that was she said, we ain’t doin’ it,” Jayne growled, as Mal entered the room. The captain’s eyes landed on Kaylee. “Got that little valve problem figured out yet?” he asked her. Kaylee gestured at the piece of engine sitting on the table. “Figured out, yes, but we’re gonna be needin’ a new one of those.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the valve.” Kaylee picked it back up, and led him off into the engine room. Behind them, the galley was quiet. River began to hum as she spun herself in a little circle. Jayne eyed her, her legs, and her hair sideways.

“You come in here for a reason, gir – River, or just to bother me?”

She stopped the twirl, stepped back over to him, bent over him; closer this time. That hair fell down over both his shoulders, and even through his t-shirt he could feel it. He didn’t flinch away from the scented envelopment, or the voice that breathed into his ear;

“To bother you, of course.” She chuckled. Her warm breath gusted across his neck. “It worked.”

She straightened away and was out the door. He was left to reach under the table and adjust his suddenly too-tight pants.