Any World But This

It was a few days after their stop on Persephone when he finally discovered what it was that the doc was transporting; the crate that he guarded as if his very life depended on it. By the time, Jaime had gotten around to prying open the lid, the Captain of Serenity cared about one thing, and one thing only - that is, that his best girl Kaylee had been shot.

Make that two things - Kaylee had been shot, and this gorram dandy he didn’t know from Adam had thought it clever to use her life as a means to threaten him. Him. The Captain of the very ship they all still stood in. That was his air the doc was breathing.

We’ll see how smug you stay when I throw you out the airlock you gorram bastard.

Out the corner of his eye, the Captain observed as Brienne restrained the younger man with ease.

As the lid fell away, Jaime sucked in a deep breath, momentarily shocked out of his mind by the sight he was being presented with. He wasn’t sure what he had expected to find, come to think of it…but it weren’t this.

He hadn’t expected to find a skinny, underfed girl lying curled up within the frozen confines of the crate. The fact that she was also naked as the day she was born did not escape his notice. Fiery red hair spread about her like a halo of sunbeams, lending her an almost otherworldly air.

“Cap’n, is that what I think it is?” Jayne asked curiously, trying to sneak a peek.

“Doc, you got an explanation for this?” Jaime’s voice had turned low and threatening. Already he was moving in front of the crate and reaching for the gun tucked in his holster. He meant to protect the helpless creature from those who would look to hurt her, and apparently, that included this hun dan standing in front of him. The Captain was a lot of things: thief, smuggler, the occasional hired muscle…and when it came down to it, he was not above killing those as would hurt the people under his protection.

But the slave trade was one thing he could not and would not abide. By bringing that poor girl onto his ship, this sorry excuse of a man had made Jaime an accomplice.

“It’s not what you think,” the doc - Jon - said very desperately. “I’m trying to save her.”

“Save her. Did you imagine yourself her hero? Were you liberating her from her captors?” the Captain of Serenity stalked towards the smaller man. “Or…lemme guess…was this…was this love?”

“Yes of course it’s love, she’s my…”

“You disgusting piece of fei wu…” Jaime jammed the barrel of his gun into the soft flesh under the doctor’s chin. “Maybe you deluded yourself into thinking that girl’s gonna wake up and think of you as her saviour, but I know better…”

“I seriously doubt that statement.” Jon stated drily.

That was when the screaming started. As a rule, that was never good - screaming.

Luckily for the doc, Jaime had a steady trigger finger. For once, anyway.

The Fed on the other hand - the one that thought to put his hands on Sansa only a few hours later - Jaime’s unerring aim took him out without so much as a thought.

How was the Captain supposed to know that first shot was the beginnings of a pattern, a harbinger of things to come?

***

One minute, he was just a no-good smuggler of contraband, a member of the criminal underworld, a much feared…

“Nobody fears us.” Brienne interrupted flatly as she sliced an apple.

“Well I’m sure we intimidate some folks dear,” Wash said with his mouth full. “Especially when Jayne here comes a-callin’ with uh…uh…Lisa, and wearin’ that sweater his Mom sent him.”

“Vera. Don’t hurt her feelings.” the mercenary was stroking his weapon in such a way that ought not be allowed in decent company, Jaime thought.

“Well, I’m just saying, I miss the good old days when our jobs would go smooth. Or fine, smoother. Now we got Shepherds gettin’ hurt, witches gettin’ kidnapped by hill folk…” the Captain persisted stubbornly, toying with his own fruit.

“I told you we shoulda just left ‘em on that dirt mound.” Jayne retorted.

“But the Captain here likes playin’ at being…what was it you called us? ‘Big Damn Heroes’?” Brienne’s lips twitched.

Yeah, he had used those words and no he didn’t regret it one bit, Jaime thought as he leaned back in his chair. Hell, he probably did look pretty damned heroic that night, what with facing down all those hillbillies with their pitchforks and their torches, gallantly rescuing pretty girls from the dastardly schemes of those idiots…well, from their stupidity, anyhow…

“I ain’t sayin’ we should leave crew behind, I’m just sayin’…life used to be simpler.”

Kaylee’s smile grew into a blinding thing. “You’re callin’ ‘em crew now. Everyone, Cap’n thinks they’re crew. Ain't that just shiny?”

“I find this insubordination…” Jaime stood up, mustering an air of authority as best he could. Once, he'd been a leader of men, and lead said men into battle for chrissakes. Surely he could inspire some form of respect here, now, on this very small ship with this very small crew.

“Unacceptable? Familiar?” Sansa asked as she floated barefoot past him, her long hair slipping out of its loose braid. Her brother’s clumsy handiwork, no doubt. “Or comforting? I can’t pick out the right word.”

Close behind, Jon fluttered after his sister like an anxious butterfly.

Jaime stared after the siblings, feeling unaccountably sheepish. “See morbid and creepifying, I got no problem with, long as she does it quiet-like.”

“Sorry,” Jon winced as Sansa began rummaging through the crates of supplies still laid out in the kitchen. “She’s a bit…”

“Crazy?” Jayne asked sardonically, earning himself a thunderous look from Jaime.

“Cap’n thinks she’s crew though.” Kaylee giggled, before expertly ducking away from a balled up piece of paper Jaime had lobbed clumsily in her direction.

***

There was that thing where he accidentally got married. That was no one’s fault but his - he knew it, everyone knew it. Shepherd Book thought to lecture him on some ‘special hell’. He’d all but laughed in the man’s face.

If the preacher only knew of the things he had done, the commandments he had broken, one right after the other.

There was however, no accounting for Inara. The woman, for whatever reason, had decided she was going to start behaving as if she were his moral compass, his voice of reason…

“You think I meant for this to happen?” he asked, crossing his arms as he eyed the woman incredulously. “You think I wanted to be saddled with some strange woman given to me like she weren’t nothin’ but a bag of oranges?”

“Of course I don’t think you meant for it to happen. But I do think you could have paid a little more attention, been a little more careful. You could have…”

“Thought of you.” Sansa’s clear voice interrupted. Jaime and Inara looked upwards in shock. The young woman was lying on a grated platform above the squabbling pair, staring at the cold ceiling of Serenity. Long red hair slipped through each gap, like creeping vines twining themselves into the very bones of his ship. “He should have thought of waiting hearts listening at the door…”

“Mei mei that can’t be safe…how did you even get up there?” Inara’s face was turning a an interesting shade of scarlet.

“A river cannot flow where a dam exists, one built from memories of emeralds and gold, of salt and sand and secret nights…” Sansa tilted her head, giving Jaime a knowing look and a sad smile. “Dams aren’t forever though. Cracks are already showing in places. It might take a witch to bring it down.”

How did she…how could she possibly…

“Inara, I…I’m sorry, I can’t.” Jaime shook his head and walked away, refusing to acknowledge either women. Hurrying to his bunk, he slipped down the ladder with practiced ease before slamming his hatch shut.

Turning around, he caught sight of his reflection in his mirror, and saw as he did every day, someone else’s face.

With all the trouble already on his plate, he didn’t need to think of Cersei right then, didn’t need to remember her girlish laughter as they lay in the surf, listening to the sound of gulls overhead. The taste of saltwater against her skin was still vivid against the stark background of his dark memories…

They had sworn to each other those secret nights under the stars, miles away from everyone they knew, that they would leave the universe the way they had come into it - together. Yet here he was, still flying, while she lay buried under the ashes of what used to be Shadow.

Where in the gorram hell was the fairness in that? And how the hell did Sansa…

Something - or someone - was in his bed. Looking over, Jaime was greeted by the sight of a very naked Saffron, greeting him with a small, shy wave.

“Wo de ma…” he swore, everything else forgotten for the moment.

***

As things went, the whole fiasco turned out fine at the end of it. As did the next, and the next…Jaime reminded himself to ask other Captains what a regular week on their ships looked like, and if members of their crew also happened to have entire towns named after them.

Everything was fun and games and the occasional lack of oxygen…until Sansa and Jon got themselves picked up by the Feds.

Though the circumstances of it happening to begin with…the circumstances turned his stomach the moment he sussed out the truth in his head.

“They didn't get careless, did they? You did it. You sold ‘em.” He found himself growling into a hand radio at a cowering Jayne. The large man was pressed up against the wrong side of the main hatch in the airlock hold. The airlock itself was already half open; in a matter of minutes, the mercenary before him would be dead, one way or another.

The rage he was experiencing was almost unprecedented, but Jaime chalked it up to the fact that he brooked no treason and suffered no mutineers. You turned on one of his, you turned on him.

“I got stupid ok? I made a mistake. Please let me in.” there mercenary begged. “The money was too good and I got stupid. I don’t know why you’re takin’ this so personally for!”

A not-so-distant memory of a girl tucked away in a box as if she weren't nothing but cargo did nothing to help Jayne’s case. Her screams when she awoke, the tangible fear she emanated as she cowered from invisible blows…Jayne would have sent her back to her captors, her tormentors, for thirty pieces of silver. The urge to kill the man kept on simmering inside the Captain, threatening to boil over at any second.

Jaime had already killed once before on account of Sansa. Doing it again would be no real hardship and the man in front of him deserved no better.

“Jaime...” A soft voice called. Jayne’s eyes widened as he caught sight of someone approaching the Captain, but there was no hope in his gaze. “It weren't just a case of Judas syndrome. Man was afraid of what he didn't understand, so he took the easy road.”

“No amount of money could have compelled me to let you go.” He stated as a matter of fact, turning to look her in the eye. “None.”

Sansa was still deathly pale, still shaky on her feet from the entire ordeal, which only further sharpened his rage.

“What manner of knight would you be, if you would let a Lady fall to the clutches of monsters willingly?” Her tone was gentle and her words were strangely formal. “Killing Jayne won't do nothing, but tear at that hole already inside of you until it's becomes nothing but an abyss. Listen to me.”

Looking into her blue eyes, he didn't stop to question how she knew the things she did. He hadn't questioned it in a long time, though it wasn’t something he had ever spoken of with the crew.

It was a secret, he knew, shared only between the two of them so far. Not even her brother had her abilities figured out yet, though it should’ve been clear as day to anyone who thought to think on it for more’n a minute.

The young woman was inches away from him now. Carefully, she reached for his hand, the one not holding the radio, and guided it to the airlock controls, setting his fingers on the green button before letting go.

“Besides…” Sansa tilted her head slightly, so she was looking directly at Jayne, who could only see but not hear her. Jaime watched in growing amusement as she mustered her most creepifying smile yet. “I could kill him with my brain if I wanted.”

Hesitating a moment, the Captain finally pressed the green button and closed the airlock; he didn’t, however, open the hatch to release the mercenary from the hold. From behind, he could hear Jayne slumping down in relief, hear his effusive thanks over the radio.

“You go find your brother. I won't have you faintin’ all over the ship, damaging the uh…the insulation.” Jaime finished lamely, his skin tingling where she had touched him.

“Aye Aye Captain.” She smiled weakly.

“And you. Up to me, you’d be sucked out that airlock by now. I ain’t got use for men like you.” Jaime said coldly, lifting the radio to his mouth. “You’re still here ‘cos of Sansa, you best remember that. You cross that line again, there won’t be a second chance, dong ma?”

Jayne swallowed, nodding frantically.

***

It was over supper one night, one not so very special night when the ordeal truly began.

Sansa had been acting normal - by her standards - for weeks now. Had been, since the unwelcome visit from Jubal Early. Her and Kaylee were whispering and giggling, loud enough to fill the silence Inara and Book had both left behind.

The preacher left to find himself a flock who would listen to the words of the Lord, but the companion…the companion had wanted something from him that wasn’t his to give.

Nandi had been warm, and the one night they'd shared would always be bittersweet in his memories, considering what happened after. But Inara’s reaction - as if he'd gone and offered his heart to another…as if he'd betrayed her.

A part of him wondered if he had somehow strung the companion along, but to his recollection, he had done no such thing. He had not even voiced his true thoughts when Atherton Wing had offered her a place in his household - that is, that Jaime thought the smug sonofabitch treated Inara like she weren't nothing but property.

When the woman had sullenly returned to her shuttle after her fancy party, where he himself had spent a profitable, if not boring, evening, Jaime hadn’t questioned why she’d given up the chance to remain with a better class of people. Instead, he had simply nodded a silent greeting, grateful she had come to her senses all on her own.

But come down to it, Jaime had never promised Inara anything. Never even hinted that he might have wanted her. His heart was not free, shackled and buried as it was with a dead twin sister.

Nevertheless. The companion and Shepherd had both left a silence and a fracture in their little world, and he couldn’t help but feel as if it were all his doing.

“It’s not your doing, and it’s not forever.” The redhead beside him said softly as she played with her food. “She'll come home one day. I know it.”

“Lil’ dove, anyone ever tell you it's rude to go where you ain't been invited?” He asked without rancour.

“Not really a choice when you broadcast like a…” her eyes suddenly took on a strange gleam. Instinctively, Jaime clasped tightly at her elbow as dread settled in the pit of his stomach like a lodestone. “Like a…”

“Jon?” the woman turned to her brother seated across from her as she stood up. Without any warning, she fell into a dead faint. Her slight body would have crumpled to the ground, had Jaime not caught her in time. Slinging her into his arms, his steps were already moving in tandem with Jon’s as they hurried towards the med bay.

“She crazy again?” Jayne asked somewhere behind the disappearing trio.

“Jayne, your mouth is open and words are comin’ out. You might want to look to that.” Brienne offered coldly in response.

***

Sansa lay on the stretcher, barely moving but for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

Jaime tried his best not to draw similarities, to recall how Cersei had looked, the day he found her body in the woods by the Lannister ranch. In the dim light of the early morning, her skin had appeared pale, sallow and bruised in places…

Everyone had searched for his sister for days, and he had become nothing short of a mad man during that period. When he weren’t searching, he was drinking, and when he was done with the bottle, he’d launch himself into punch-ups at any bar that would still accept his coin. By the time the search had ended, there weren’t nobody on Shadow who didn’t know what the Lannister twins had been gettin’ up to on that lonely ranch.

The look of shame in his mother’s eyes when the ugly truth finally made it to her…he’d yet to forgive himself for that. Probably never would.

After Cersei had been laid to rest, Jaime had made the Baratheon boy pay in blood for what he had so callously ripped away from him, but the rage, the need to do more violence wouldn’t leave him. If anything, it propelled him through the Unification War, gave him a sort of viciousness that sped him through rank after rank over the years.

And when even that was over, when the dust had settled, leaving him on the losing side of a bitter divide in the burning ruins of Serenity Valley, drifting through the Black was the only thing that gave him any measure of peace.

But at least with Cersei, he had a name and a face to exact vengeance on. Now however, he could do just about nothing, though he knew who was to blame for Sansa’s predicament. The last time he’d tried going up against the Alliance, he’d lost whatever little that had been left to him. His mother, his little brother, his childhood home…all nothing but ash now.

“It's everywhere on the cortex.” Jon said dully. “Our parents are dead - they were convicted and executed on charges of treason. Aiding and abetting their turncoat children, you see.”

Jaime nodded. “They're hoping you'll get careless, that the news will draw you out.”

Jon shook his head, as if that would clear the grief away. “I know what you think, that she's a reader, but…you don’t suppose that’s why…”

“Will she wake up?” Jaime asked, not caring to hear the doctor’s analysis of his sister’s capabilities. As far as he was concerned, Sansa was simply a young woman who stirred every last protective instinct within him, for reasons he didn’t want to consider.

“I think so.” Jon nodded, bustling about the small room in a bad attempt to hide his face. “I don't see anything that worries me. No more than usual.”

The captain released a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in.

***

It was getting too dangerous, Jon insisted coldly. It was getting too much, Jaime taking Sansa out on jobs.

The Captain forced his retorts away; forced himself not to tell her brother exactly what he thought of the doc’s abilities to protect his sister, mean right hook or no. The boy was plenty brave, no one doubted it, but he still couldn’t figure out the business end of a gun. Jaime didn’t want to say it aloud, but he would rather have Sansa where he could see her, where he could defend her from those as wanted to steal her.

How was he to know Reavers were gonna hit the town the way they did? It weren’t like he had invited those savages to a soiree out on their little heist. Hell, having Sansa with them probably saved the entire crew, like it as not.

Jaime couldn't bear to think of a ship without the sounds of her clear voice, glimpses of her blue eyes…to say nothing of the ever present fear that someone would try to grab her the moment he let her out of his sight.

Lately, not a week went by without some bounty hunter callin’ after Sansa. That, or some new flyer with her face on it would be pasted all over the cortex. The Alliance was cracking down, cracking down hard, and Jaime could feel it in his bones that something was going to give, sooner rather than later.

Instead of giving Jon even a hint of his true sentiments however, Jaime made an impulsive decision to show the siblings the door. It was for the better anyhow - nothing good came of caring too much. Sooner or later, everyone left, and it didn't do anyone any good to pretend that things were built to last. Besides, he had the rest of his crew to care for…even if the numbers shrank by the day.

Nevertheless, for all the words he’d spoken in a fit of anger, as he stood on the bridge staring out at the cold expanse of the Black, regret began to take hold of his heart.

“It’ll be safer this way." she said from her place beside him.

"For you?" he questioned, though he knew what her answer would be. Didn't need to be a reader to understand these things.

“Don’t be stubborn." she replied with a haughty sniff and a hint of a wistful smile. Brushing a gentle kiss against his stubbled cheek, she lingered there for all of a second before drifting away, back into the bowels of Serenity. It was odd to think it, but in his mind, she had become as much a part of the ship, as the ship had become a part of his being...

On Beaumonde, refusing to say his goodbyes, Jaime hurried off towards the Maidenhead, choosing to distract himself with the immediate present…that is, if Kaylee would ever let him be.

Of course, he should have known that Sansa would've followed him, should've already realized that the ties that bound him to her ran both ways. And should have known that trouble would follow in her wake.

***

Jaime would have been lying if he said watchin' Sansa annihilate a bar full of men bigger'n her didn't light a fire in him somethin' fierce. The way her body moved, the way she delivered blow after deadly blow...her skill for violence sang to the buzzing in his own blood like the song of some mythical siren.

“Do you know her?” Fanty or Mingo asked, observing his rapt expression.

“Yes, she's my lil’…” he started without thinking, then corrected himself as Jayne hopped over to join the tussle. “She's crew.”

Then, sweet, if not slightly moon-brained little Sansa effortlessly took Jayne down with a sickening, vicious thud. It was as if the young woman didn't recognize the man, hadn't sat down to supper with the mercenary night after night.

Alarm bells began to ring in Jaime’s head, forcing him to his feet, propelling him towards the weapons locker. When finally, he had his gun in his hand, he raised the heavy barrel and aimed it right at her head...only to falter at the last, as his green eyes found her blue ones.

There it was, the flicker of recognition, of horror, of understanding that her body had been taken over by something outside of herself.

Lou De Tian Ye...those gorram Alliance docs had turned her into a meat puppet to use as they pleased, he raged internally, feeling as helpless as she probably did somewhere inside that head of hers.

***

Boarding Serenity with Sansa’s limp body in his arms once again, Jaime refused to look too closely at his reasons for not leaving her to the mercy of the Feds, or at the knowledge that he would have murdered them that would think to snatch her from his firm grasp.

Not even Jon dared to utter a word on the matter. Jon, who snuck guilty looks at him every few seconds, knowin’ there was a reckoning coming his way.

“You care about her.” Jon stated, watching as the Captain secured Sansa’s form. “I see the way you look at her…been seeing it for months. I'm not blind.”

“I care about my crew.” Jaime said coldly as he unfolded his body. “Now, let’s talk about why you had a weapon among us this entire time, and didn’t bother telling none of us about it.”

***

The following days were a blur of blood, violence and death…a heavy price to pay for an admittedly considerable victory against the Alliance.

On Station 2E, there was a moment of pure terror, when he looked at the fallen, injured bodies of his crew, and did not see the one person he needed to know was safe. Distantly, he was grateful that Brienne and Kaylee still breathed, that Jon, Inara and Jayne still stood.

But there was a louder litany in his head, repeating over and over, that if Sansa was gone, then he too was lost.

Fundamentally, something inside him would end, and he would spend the rest of his days fighting, until he brought down every last one of the hun dan who had taken her from him. Serenity in all its forms would be lost to him, and it wouldn't even matter anymore.

Just as his fingers began to tighten on the grip of his gun, just as he began to holler bloody murder, the doors slid open. Behind it, the woman stood, covered head to toe in the blood of a hundred reavers - but she herself was unharmed, safe and alive. Blood flowed endlessly down her arms, dripping off the blades in her hands; she looked nothing so much as an avenging Goddess come to reap her prey.

It was a different kind of terror then, that took ahold of the Captain as he stared at Sansa Stark - a realization that he had gone and given himself away to something far bigger than he had imagined. Jaime Lannister was no longer his own man. Hadn't been in some time, truth be told. A wolfish grin began to manifest on her bloody face...

She'd pulled the thought from his mind, saw the answering desire to her unspoken question.

Jaime swallowed, refusing to let his gaze drop away from hers. For better or for worse, he never did know when to back down from a challenge.

***

Jobs were fewer and further between, but it was to be expected. Nobody wanted to deal with a former Browncoat, with a target painted on his back, though it was necessary now, more than ever, that they remained flying.

Considering the signs he was seeing in his first mate, the signs a grieving Brienne was trying carefully to hide, protecting the crew and the soon-to-arrive babe was paramount.

Which was the only reason he had swallowed his pride and accepted some go se job, courtesy of Badger, who had smirked infuriatingly at him during the entire negotiation.

“I know some people out on the rim that might need muscle,” Jayne grumbled as he loaded the mule with sacks of what smelled like fertilizer. “Then we wouldn’t hafta deal with that ruttin' rat-faced hun dan no more.”

“You mean they’re hiring peons to do jobs too dirty for their lowdown gangs?” Jaime scoffed, and paused. “How much would they pay, d’ya think?”

Jayne grinned as Jon made a face. The doc’s hands were blackened by dirt, and his face was dripping with sweat; the man had insisted on coming and ‘lending a hand’, so Jaime had gladly acquiesced.

Meandering back to Serenity, as the mule moved onto the main deck, the sight that greeted the returning men shocked them all into momentary silence.

Badger had their pilot up against the wall - and he was kissing the young woman, whose blue eyes were darting every which way as if she were looking for an escape route. Any escape route.

Inara stood off to the side with an expression of un-feigned shock and disgust, hands fluttering helplessly around the grimy man.

Without quite realizing what he was doing, Jaime found himself leaping out the mule and striding towards the unpleasant tableau with dangerous intent. Unceremoniously, he hauled the slight man off Sansa by the collar, and set himself firmly in Badger’s way.

“Hands. Off.”

At first, Badger seemed as if he were about to raise a stink, but as he looked between Jaime and Sansa, an understanding began to blossom across his perpetually greasy face. Raising his hands in a universal sign of surrender, Badger offered with an oily grin, “Didn’t know she was spoken for, or I wouldn’t have tried anythin’. Scout’s honour.”

“You weren’t ever a scout.” Sansa’s eyes danced with amusement. Craning his head to look at her, Jaime could see that she was still flushed from the unfortunate episode. Her breathing was uneven and her hands shook ever so slightly. Something snapped inside his brain, like the crack of a dry twig on a winter’s morning.

Badger had no right to the pleasure of her body. Not one touch, not one kiss.

Sansa’s gaze flew to meet his emerald eyes, a small gasp escaping her lips.

Before he had a chance to fully think through his actions, Jaime’s fingers had curled themselves around her slender wrist. Ignoring Jon’s feeble protests and the confused glances everyone was throwing at him, he led the both of them through Serenity, towards his bunk, with one thought reverberating through his head.

Mine.

He was tired. Tired of losing, of grief, of being afraid he'd get everyone killed…the way Wash and Shepherd both got killed. He was tired of ignoring the beating of his heart when he was beside Sansa, tired of not claiming what he had wanted - what he had thought of as his - right from the start because of an old fear.

Jaime had been so afraid that in giving himself away, he would be betraying the memory of a dead woman. One he should never have loved to begin with, when it came down to it. Not the way he did, anyhow.

Unresistingly, Sansa followed close behind, allowing Jaime to guide her where he would. Without a trace of hesitation, she climbed down into his cabin, hand over hand, blue eyes never once losing sight of him the whole way down.

When finally he was alone with her, Jaime turned to Sansa, who waited patiently for him without an iota of confusion or reticence…though he did catch a trace of girlish modesty in the way she brushed her hair aside, the way she self-consciously studied him. The sight tugged at heartstrings he hadn’t even realized he still possessed.

“Hearts want what they want Captain. None of us get to choose.” She smiled faintly, carefully closing the distance between them as if he would bolt. She needn’t have feared; ain’t nothin’ in the ‘verse could drag him away from this. Not now.

“Don’t care what it says in that old book the Shepherd liked so much. S’all wrong anyway.”

“I shouldn’t want you.” He curled an arm around her waist as he tilted her chin up, ignoring the sharp stab in his heart at the mention of Book. “For starters, I'm old enough to be your father.”

“In a universe where you made dumber choices as an adolescent, I'm sure that's true.” She wrinkled her nose.

Leaning down, Jaime captured her lips in a searing kiss. She was every bit as sweet as he had imagined, and more. Eager fingers removed his red shirt and holster, while he himself slipped delicate straps off her shoulders. Impatiently, he tugged roughly at her gauzy dress so it puddled on the ground beside her discarded combat boots. By the time they were stripped down to nothing, his kisses had become almost bruising, as he showered her body with his undivided attention.

“Stay me with flagons and comfort me with apples…” Sansa breathed as he covered her body with his. “…for I am sick of love…”

Jaime groaned. There must be some sort of gossip among the womenfolk, some secret knowledge of his guaranteed reaction to scripture being read to him in bed.

She gasped as he entered her fully, her eyes squeezing themselves shut.

“Look at me darlin’…don’t hide yourself away. Not now…” he whispered, desperately wanting to know that she was here, with him.

Blinking owlishly, she did as he wanted even as her breath hitched in her chest.

Mine, a fierce voice repeated in his head as he listened to her soft moans, relished the way her body arched into his. “Nobody will ever touch you or hurt you ever again. Do you understand?”

Her only response was to pull him closer, allowing him to take her as he had always wanted.

“Sansa,” he murmured like a prayer, breathing her in. “Mine…”

“Yours,” she whispered brokenly against his lips. “Only yours.”

Reaching a hand between them, he found the sweet pearl above her cleft and stroked at it as gently as he could in time with the movement of their bodies. It didn’t take long for her to fall to a million pieces in one endless sigh, and as she fell, Jaime fell with her. He allowed himself to let go, to finally release himself from the invisible chains that had held him down for too long…

It was akin to saying goodbye to something precious, to a beloved heart shaped face, and sparkling emerald eyes.

But it also felt as if he were surfacing from the bottom of a lake, after having drowned for an eon.

Jaime felt like he could finally breathe again.

***

Sansa lay in his arms, her sharp chin digging not uncomfortably into his shoulder.

“They won't ever stop coming Jaime. We’ll never be safe. I did this…I brought this on our heads. It's because of me, Shepherd and Wash are both…”

“Unless you were the one liftin’ the weapon that ended them, I would suggest you stop right there.” He said sharply. Unbidden, he thought of the bodies of children on Haven, carelessly left under the baking sun just for him to find. Judging from the haunted look in Sansa’s eyes, he knew she was looking where she hadn’t been invited once again…

Curiously, he had never minded her presence in his brain. If anything, her knowing the shape of his thoughts and still wantin’ him made him feel less alone, in a ‘verse where he had never truly fit.

Tugging her close, he turned on his side and stroked her soft, downy cheek.

“We’ll keep on flying. Long as this ship will carry us, we’ll keep on flying, keep on carving us our own little piece of the black, far from the grasp of the Alliance. That was always the plan, and its never changed…having the deadliest creature in the ‘verse by my side. That could only increase our odds.”

“What if I get tired of flying?” she teased. “What if I want to set foot on dry land?”

Jaime chuckled. “You love Serenity almost as much I love her. I’d like to see the day you leave willingly.”

As they leaned into each other, the Captain and his pilot listened for each other’s heartbeat, and the comforting thrum of the ship that held them in its warm embrace.

“Storm’s coming,” Sansa murmured into his skin.

Planting a kiss in her hair, he replied softly, “We’ll pass through it soon enough.”