I just found something and I couldn't help but feel the need to share with you (you have fed my Rayne addiction far more than I think you know!). There was a Firefly novel written by Steven Burst called, "Firefly: My Own Kind of Freedom", it was never commercially released but is available online. This part caught my attention and I though you'd like it too...
Sometimes it seemed it was just a matter of keeping her balance. --- The problem was there were too many directions, and you had to stay balanced among all of them. It was like dance; if you could find the balance point, you could do anything.
That was the beauty of flying. She would have to ask Wash he how did it, how he made it like a dance. The way Kaylee made Serenity dance. The way Simon danced with his hands, when he was operating. The way Mal danced between disaster and triumph. The way Zoe danced around between Mal's orders and Mal's wishes. The way Jayne... Jayne. Jayne was the only one who didn't dance. He had no balance. That's why he did all of those things, he couldn't find his balance point. She got up, then, and walked to the Med Bay. Simon looked up and said, “What is it, River?” but she ignored him. She went over to Jayne, who was looking upward with fractured shards of consciousness coming and going like his breath; wrung out, shot full of drugs and holes with his life flowing through tubes and his spirit spreading through the ship like the ghost locked up in the hold. She stared down into Jayne's half-open eyes. “Boxing is just like ballet,” she told him, “except there's no music and they hit each other.” Then, satisfied, she turned and went back to her room.
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Date: 2009-12-27 11:17 pm (UTC)There was a Firefly novel written by Steven Burst called, "Firefly: My Own Kind of Freedom", it was never commercially released but is available online. This part caught my attention and I though you'd like it too...
Sometimes it seemed it was just a matter of keeping her balance. --- The problem was there were too many directions, and you had to stay balanced among all of them. It was like dance; if you could find the balance point, you could do anything.
That was the beauty of flying. She would have to ask Wash he how did it, how he made it like a dance. The way Kaylee made Serenity dance. The way Simon danced with his hands, when he was operating. The way Mal danced between disaster and triumph. The way Zoe danced around between Mal's orders and Mal's wishes. The way Jayne...
Jayne.
Jayne was the only one who didn't dance. He had no balance. That's why he did all of those things, he couldn't find his balance point.
She got up, then, and walked to the Med Bay. Simon looked up and said, “What is it, River?” but she ignored him. She went over to Jayne, who was looking upward with fractured shards of consciousness coming and going like his breath; wrung out, shot full of drugs and holes with his life flowing through tubes and his spirit spreading through the ship like the ghost locked up in the hold.
She stared down into Jayne's half-open eyes. “Boxing is just like ballet,” she told him, “except there's no music and they hit each other.”
Then, satisfied, she turned and went back to her room.
:)