Abel Stoddard’s Emporium of Fine Antiquities, Junque, Ladies Goods, and Salvage contained all the advertised items and more. The front of the store held the nicer merchandise while the junk and salvage tended to cover the rough wooden tables set up along the back. Frozen food stuffs were concealed behind the fake rear wall. The place was huge. Mal had never seen so much black-market contraband set up in plain view in his life. Abel had merely laughed when he casually mentioned it. Alliance had better things to do than worry about their little hole in the ‘verse he was assured. After all, the only thing they were famous for was their dust and the hybrid apples that seemed to thrive on it. Given those hindrances, the tiny world had turned their lemons into lemonade, or to be exact, the best moonshine for ten worlds. It was called apple pie moonshine and it sold for more than the heavily-taxed Alliance champagne – when he could get it to his customers. That’s where Malcolm Reynolds had come in. Abel had liked him from the minute he’d set eyes on him. He reminded him of his youngest son that he’d lost in the war. Mal’s firm handshake and straightforward manner had sold him completely. The fact that he’d done the job honestly was just icing on the cake. Mal didn’t know it yet, but Abel was going to make him enough money to keep that rattletrap of a ship in new parts for the next ten years. But a shrewd businessman never showed all his cards. Abel had dickered with Mal until the younger man had turned to walk away, then he’d offered him enough store credit to get him to turn back. Damn, but it wrenched his heart to see how much Malcolm looked like his Michael. Now he watched from his seat at the register as his new smuggler tried to corral the two girls he’d brought in with him. The store was empty. Most of the locals slept through the hottest part of the day, so it gave him time to study Malcolm. His gentleness with the girls was a new facet. Mal looked around the market with a sinking heart. He had left Simon and Jayne finishing up the painting on Inara’s shuttle so that he could give Kaylee time to look for salvage parts. The store credit had sounded good at the time, but now he figured he’d be in here hours with her. Her appreciative squeal at the sight of what looked to be an acre of parts had been his first clue. She’d disappeared under the tables now, pulling out boxes and looking through the metal that hadn’t made it to the display. Her ooohs and aaahs boded ill for his credit balance. He squatted down to see her sitting cross-legged with parts laid out around her like dolls. “Now Kaylee, just what we need. No extra. Still gotta get rations once Zoë gets back.” “Oh, but Cap'n, there are so many pretties here. See this?” She held up something that looked like a bedpan to Mal. “Stabilizer. Only used a little. Would take that shake we got goin’ into atmo right out.” “Well, don’t give up on it,” he comforted. “This shopkeeper’s got some goods he wants removed in a frequent fashion. We’ll be back. Could be next time we’ll take half trade and half coin. Maybe you can get that there thing then.” Her smile lit up the back of the store and nearly melted Mal. “Gonna mess around elsewhere. You finish up here. Just what we need now,” he cautioned once more. He heard her grumbled acceptance as he moved around to check on River. This little world seemed like the ass-end of the ‘verse, but Mal never let his guard down. His eyes scanned the store, acknowledged Abel Stoddard’s watchful interest, and continued on to the deserted street outside baking under three, small, white-hot noon suns. “Found something.” River’s voice in his ear made him jump. He turned around with an affectionate glare. “Thought we’d agreed that you wouldn’t sneak up on a body like that.” She grinned, unrepentant. “You were looking for danger, but there’s isn’t any. Nice world. Simple souls. He likes you.” She glanced briefly at the shop owner to let Mal know whom she meant. “Seems to be a good sort, but keep your radar goin’.” Mal glanced down at her, wondering where she found the outfits she put together. Today she wore some sort of sweater that looked like it was made from neon fishing net over a tank top. Her shorts came to her knees and she’d topped the whole weird outfit off with combat boots. He did a mental count of how long she’d been on the ship and a tally of their credits. “You need some clothes, darlin'? You wanna go look for a dress or somethin’?” He waved a hand over her vaguely to define his meaning. River smiled warmly at him, pleased that he would offer. The fact that he didn’t exactly know how to wear his father/big brother role only made it sweeter. “I have my money if I need something new. Kaylee shares her clothes.” He looked her up and down doubtfully.

“You mean you dress like this on purpose, not cause you ain’t got nothin’ else to wear?” His confusion made her smile with the condescension every teenager feels toward their parent’s lack of fashion sense. “I like dressing like this. Very comfortable.” Her eyes strayed to a table nearby. “But I might want a pair of sandals.” He considered anything that would replace the combat boots a win. “Sure. That’d be good. And maybe some ribbons or bows or somethin' to get your hair outta your face.” The eye roll and huff that met that suggestion made Mal feel about fifty. “Let’s worry about you for a minute.” She deftly turned the tables. “Me? I don’t need nothin’.” She pulled him over to a delicate table full of tiny bottles of perfume. They looked expensive. She bent over them from the waist, reading each hand-written label. She beamed with satisfaction when she found the one she wanted. “This.” “I need scent? You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, albatross? “ She grinned, playing along. “Not for you, silly. A gift. A special day coming up. Tomorrow. Doesn’t want anyone else to know.” Her all-knowing look made him squirm for no reason he could put a finger on. “I know, you and Kaylee both got birthdays comin’, but it’s rude to choose your own present.” “Not just me and Kaylee, that’s later. Another birthday.” She sighed long-sufferingly at his pretended slowness. “And not Simon, or Jayne, or Zoë.” “Huh. Inara? Didn’t know that.” She pressed the tiny bottle into his hand. He held it up to examine it and the price. He had enough coin to afford it, even though it would set him back a ways. He gave her one more doubtful look. “You sure about this? Not something sparkly she could wear?” River shook her head with a knowing smile. “This. You’ll see. And one more stop after here.” “For what? We can’t gallivant all over town today-we got work to do.” “Just one more thing. At the fair.” He threw up a hand at that. “No! Ain’t no need for anybody to be goin' to that fair again. Kaylee’s just now over that stomach ache from the other night.” She smiled at him like he was four. “Just for one thing. And maybe some cotton candy.” He knew she threw that in as temptation. Trust her to know that he had a weakness for that fluff. “Maybe Jayne can take you.” She shook her head. “You have to make the choice or it won’t mean as much.” “You’re losing me now, darlin’, and we’re wastin’ time. Get your flip flops and whatever else you need. Let’s get outta here. Still got a lotta work to do on the ship today.”

He moved off from the girls to jaw a little with Abel. They discussed drop coordinates and timetables wrapped up in terms that sounded like casual talk of weather and flight conditions. Kaylee carried up her booty. She’d gotten some engine parts for Serenity, and found a shirt for Simon. She also had some scrap metal in her hands that Mal was curious about. River came after her, both arms wrapped around the biggest fish bowl he’d ever seen. She’d dropped a pair of sandals into it. Mal glared at them, glanced at Abel, and took the fish bowl. Damn girls knew he wouldn’t air their laundry in front of a stranger, but his glare promised retribution later. They looked all manner of alarmed, too, he noticed, though an outsider might not see that through the huge grins plastered on both faces. He sent Kaylee back for a pair of shoes for herself, and then paid for the engine parts and their sandals out of the store credits despite their protests. The scent and the fish bowl he took from his own coin, vowing as he paid to never take these girls shopping again. Next time, Jayne got this duty. Abel Stoddard watched them walk down street, smiling at the picture they made. A gunslinger, eyes constantly on the watch for threats, with two young women laughing and tugging on his sleeve to show him something along the way, or just vying for his attention. His affection for them both, poorly masked as irritation, so obvious it was heartwarming. Abel hated to see this crew leave their small town, but he knew they’d be back. He intended to make it worth Malcolm Reynolds’ while to do so. ~*~*~*~ Inara and Zoë arrived the next morning looking rested and relaxed. They were both brimming with news. The trip to the Guild had proved fruitful in more ways than one. Zoë had become something of a celebrity with Inara’s friends and housemother. Though she had turned down their invitation to stay with them for a short visit, she had tentatively made arrangements for freight hauling, impressing the Guild leader with her head for business. They went to unpack, planning to debrief with the whole crew over supper. It would take some talking to convince Mal that doing contract work for the Guild was not the equivalent of Alliance make-work, but they had a strategy all planned. River and Kaylee followed Inara along the catwalk. She turned around, eyebrows raised, a little surprised by the entourage. Their looks of anticipation had her suspicious. She put her hands on her hips and tried to look stern. “What are you two up to?” She demanded with a smile. “Go see!” Kaylee grinned. “You’re gonna –“ “Shhh!” River stopped her with fingers over her mouth. “You’ll ruin the surprise.” Inara turned back to her shuttle. The paint smell was a little strong, but the difference in the interior was worth it. It was brighter and warmer already. A few days work, the items she had being delivered later in the day, and her own touch would turn this place into a home. It was the new addition to the room, not the paint, which caught her eye. In a corner near where the sofa would be, someone had constructed a metal stand that snugly held a huge fish bowl. It was welded to the floor and large enough to hold plenty of water, even if some spilled during evasive maneuvers. The bottom had been decorated with colored stones, some fishy hiding places, and oddly enough, a pair of chopsticks. But it was the occupants of the bowl that had Inara catching her breath. Swimming beside Sushi was another fish. It, too, was a red-veiled goldfish, like Sushi; but where he was solid orange, this one was white and orange, with tiny touches of red on her fins. Inara felt tears prick her eyes when she turned to see the two girls, practically bouncing in their new shoes. She held out her arms and they rushed to hug her. “I love it! Who is responsible for this?” Kaylee rushed in to explain. “River found the bowl, but it was the captain that bought it. And he chose the other fish, too.” She left out the part about Mal grousing and threatening to shoot them both when they had literally taken his hands and dragged him to the fair. It made the tale seem slightly less romantic. “He even figured out how to make the stand and welded it together for you,” River chimed in. “We named her Sashimi. She likes it.” River whispered behind her hand, “She doesn’t know about the people-eating-fish part, even though they don’t really make sashimi out of goldfish.” Inara thought her cheeks might crack from smiling. “Well, I certainly won’t tell her about the people-eating-fish part if you won’t.” She trailed her fingers down the fish bowl and studied each fish in more detail. “This is such a sweet surprise. I’m sure Sushi will love the company.” She turned back around to find that both girls had left, closing the shuttle door behind them. Mal stood in their place. The tension in the room escalated significantly. He had acknowledged their return with a nod and a murmured conversation with Zoë that included looks in her direction, but hadn’t said a word to her. He’d seemed pleased, if a little surprised, to see her. Pieces of conversations she’d had with Zoë over the course of their trip slipped through her mind. “He never said he trusted me to come back,” she’d confided one night while they were soaking in the promised bubble baths. “Shenme?” “Mal. I asked him twice if he trusted me, and both times he diverted the conversation. It was only when I was thinking back that I realized he never said he trusted me to come back.” “He’s scared, Inara.” “That’s ridiculous, Zoë. Mal’s not afraid of anything, especially that I might leave.” ”Ain't scared you’ll leave. Scared you’ll stay, that he’ll let himself love you, and then you’ll leave. He’s afraid that you’ll get tired of playing Space Ship and want to get back to your old life. And lookin’ around, I gotta to ask, are you sure you can give this up? It’s a shiny life.” They stood looking at each other, both tongue-tied. Neither made a move toward the other. With all her years of experience at reading people, she could rarely tell what this man was thinking. He just stood with his arms crossed, his eyes a stormy, blue-gray hue that they sometimes took on when he’d been brooding. He didn’t look like he’d been pining away without her that was for sure. Deciding to break the standoff, Inara smiled graciously, and waved a hand that took in the new addition and the new paint. “I thank you for this. It feels more like my home –“ “Really didn’t expect to see you back.” His voice was rough, and he didn’t seem to notice that he’d rudely interrupted her. Pretense dropped from her. Zoë had warned her that he’d be difficult when they returned. “Just so you know, he’ll have decided that the best thing for both of you will be that you leave. I can hear that mind workin’ from here.” “What should I do?” “You make up your mind that you’re stayin’. And you get ready to fight for him. Ain’t never gonna be easy with that man, Inara, but he is worth it. You got plenty o’ backbone – use it.” “I told you I’d be back. The day I left I told you I’d be back.” She heard the shake in her voice, but couldn’t decide if it was from anger or fear. She would not let him ruin this, not after all she’d been through to get to this point with him. “People lie. It's what they do.”

He made her so angry she actually saw red.

“I am not ‘people,’ Mal. I am the woman that loves you. I have just changed my whole life for you, you stupid, cow poking, petty thieving, cargo smuggler!” she sputtered. “And by all that is holy, when I tell you I’m coming back you had better believe it!” She was startled to hear how her voice had risen in anger. Companions did not yell or sputter. Wo de ma, this man affected her in ways no one else ever had – a great deal of them negatively. Her eyes narrowed at him as a slow smile quirked up one side of his mouth and began to spread into his eyes. She moved closer to him, enraged that he’d use that cynical mockery to belie something so very important. She had to hold her arms stiffly at her sides, hands fisted, to keep from slapping him. “So help me, Malcolm Reynolds, if you don’t wipe that smirk off your face, I’ll-“ “Remind me to teach you how to cuss, darlin’.”

He pulled her to him by her upper arms and kissed her. Hard. It was like drowning. He’d kissed her during the night they’d spent together – soft, gentle kisses - letting her take the lead most of the time. It had been breathtaking, but she’d felt like he had kept part of himself back. That barrier was gone. He kissed her fervently, without restraint, pulling her into him, sliding his hands from her arms down to her bottom to press her into his hips. His mouth was wet and hot on her mouth, her face, her eyes, her neck. He kissed her breasts with the same thoroughness, and she nearly came from just that sensation. Later, when she regained her senses, she studied him where they lay slumped to the floor, mostly naked. It was probably a good thing he’d let her lead the first time, she thought. If he’d made love to her with this kind of unrestrained passion before, she wasn’t sure if she could have left him even for a few days. She looked down at their bodies: hot, sweaty, inseparably entangled, and smiled. She pulled his head from her shoulder, rubbing her hands over his sweat-slicked face and hair, pulling his mouth up to hers for a deep kiss. “Open you eyes, Mal.” He did, to her delight, letting her look to her heart’s content.

”Tell me you love me.” “You know I do.” She moved up and down, tensing muscles in a way that made him groan. She smiled a small triumphant smile. “Darlin’, you are gonna kill me if you do that again.” “Tell me you love me.” It was a demand that Zoë would have made. He squinted to focus on her face. She held him back with her hands, not letting him kiss her like he wanted. “Beginnin' to believe that you spendin’ time alone with Zoë might not be the best thing for either one of us.” “Tell me you love me, and that you know that I will come back unless I tell you I’m not. Tell me you know that I will fight to be with you.” She wasn’t playing now. She was deadly serious and he realized the time for cowardice and foolish pride was over. He tried to talk, to tell her, but it seemed as if his throat closed up, and an aching knot formed in his chest. He put his hands on either side of her face, and tilted her forehead down until it touched his. “I love you, Inara,” he whispered. “And the rest,” she whispered back. “If you tell me you’re comin’ back, then I know you’re comin’ back,” he faltered, but continued, “and that you will fight to be with me.” She sniffed to hold back the tears his words had caused. He pulled his head back, catching her tears and wiping them away with his work-roughened thumbs. “If you wanted to hear that, why are you cryin’? Don’t like leaky women, you should know that by now.” “I’m crying because I’m happy, you idiot.” She tried to bury her face in his shoulder, but her pulled her back, still holding her face in his large hands. “I’ll try, Inara. I will try so damn hard to make you happy, but you prob’ly oughta leave right now. If I was a better man, I'd insist on it. It's a weakness to let you stay.” “I probably should, but I’m not going to; and you’d better just get used that, mister.” “I think that’s captain to you,” he teased, finally letting her bury her face in his neck. He ran his fingers down her spine. “I will undoubtedly think of a lot more names that suit the occasion better as we go along,” she groused from her warm spot. She kissed him just below his reattached ear. “I do love you,” he whispered quietly into her hair. “I know it,” she teased him gently, mocking his speech patterns. “Got you a present.” “I saw her. I love that you bought me another fish.” “Somethin’ else, too. You’ll have to reach into my pants pocket for it.” Since his pants were around his ankles it did make more sense for her to look for it. Her fingers found the smooth, round bottle and held it up. The writing was in Chinese and he could tell by her face that she was surprised. “Oh, Mal…” she whispered, her eyes going from his face to the tiny bottle. “How did you –“ she sniffed once, another tear falling down her face. “Happy birthday, bao bei. Ain’t you gonna open it?” he asked quickly, afraid more leaking was about to take place. She nodded and pulled the little stopper out. A beautiful, light floral fragrance floated out around their heads. Her eyes closed with pleasure as she inhaled the delicate scent. “Honeysuckle. I had this outside my bedroom when I was a little girl. It grew wild around our house. It was always a joke because when they brought transplants from Earth-that-was so many years ago they didn’t realize it was a weed. It grew all over the banks, and in the spring it was like heaven in our garden.” She leaned down to kiss him lingeringly. “You couldn’t have given me a better gift.” “Glad you like it, and the fish. Had some help, I gotta confess.” She smiled and kissed him again, wondering if she’d ever get enough him, loving the feel of him under her hands. “I thought you might have, but that just makes it sweeter that River and Kaylee helped you. That’s what families do, Mal.” He looked surprised at that turn of phrase, but nodded before looking around the bare shuttle. He settled her on his thighs, their bare skin still touching. “Inara, why did you take everything out of here? Is this paint some big symbolic thing I’m supposed to conjure? Cause we need a bed. I’m too old to be makin’ love up against the wall all night.” She traced his eyebrows with a delicate fingertip, admiring his eyelashes. Having him like this was a treat that she planned to repeat often. She considered her words cautiously, still very much aware that they would have to tread carefully over certain parts of her past and his present work. “The other night, when we were together, I knew you didn’t want to be in here. I realized there were memories, ghosts, and other things from my past that would haunt us. But we have to make our life here, and so, I’m changing the shuttle. I have furniture from my old apartment outside, a new bed that no one has ever slept on before; and some, let’s say, less companion-like decorations. I want this to be our home, Mal. I want you to be comfortable here. Just you and me. No clients. No ghosts. A new start.” “That why you left? Didn’t have to do all that. I’d a got past that stuff.” “I wanted to do it. Besides, it’s a new start for me, too; and I’ve been missing my old things.” She cleared her throat, suddenly very nervous as she remembered one of the ‘old things’ that she’d brought with her. Mal was watching her curiously. “I have a gift, too. But it’s sort of a …let me show you.” She moved off his legs to go through one of the small valises she’d brought on board. Mal sat enjoying the view of her bottom stuck up in the air while she tossed things willy-nilly on the floor around the case. It was so unlike her that he had to smile. She came back to him, sinking down on his thighs again, her own still sticky with his semen - the ultimate experience in intimacy - one she’d never once shared with a client.

If their bonding had not made it the right time, it would never come to them. She held out her palm to display a small, gleaming bracelet in two parts. Mal could see it had some sort of locking mechanism on each side, and a key on a chain lay draped over one half. “This has been in my family for centuries, Mal. It came to me from my grandmother when she died. While she lived, she never removed it. It’s a bracelet that symbolizes the giving of ourself to another person. Once locked, it can never be opened without the key. It can’t be cut, it can’t be melted, and it can’t be broken. I’ve had it in a safety deposit box on Sihnon because I never expected to use it. I never thought that a day would come when I would want to wear this, and I never thought I’d give the key to another person. I will never make this overture to another man, Mal. I hope you’ll accept it.” His answer was another kiss that stole her breath. “You don’t want to do this in front of the crew?” he asked quietly. “It’s not a legal commitment, Mal. Not a wedding.” “It sure as hell feels like one to me, but no reason we can’t do it twice, I reckon.” He took the pieces and key in one hand, lifting her left wrist to his mouth for a kiss. His lips on her skin and the tenderness of his touch destroyed any semblance of composure. He looked into her eyes; and, for the first time since she’d come aboard Serenity, the real Malcolm Reynolds lay open to her. This was the man he’d been before a war came that nearly shattered him. She prayed then, to both their gods, that the day would come when circumstances would allow this man to come back. Until then, she’d keep trying to heal the one she had, the one that would do whatever it took to keep his crew cared for and alive. “Don’t have any fancy words for you, Inara." He fitted the two halves of the bracelet together and slipped it around her wrist, together but not closed. He lifted his other hand to her face, eyes darkening as she turned her mouth to kiss his palm. "Not really got anything to give you 'sides love, but I swear I'll not let you come to harm - or I'll die tryin'.” Tears ran down her face as he closed the bracelet with a quiet snap, and handed her the key. She kissed him lovingly, then wiped her eyes so that she could see. The tiny key fit perfectly in the lock. She held it there, her eyes on the one man in the world to whom she’d give this kind of unconditional love. “I love you, Malcolm Reynolds."

She turned the key.