Title: Teacher's Darling Rating: PG Character: Inara Pairing: Implied Mal/Inara Word Count: 739 Warning: Not Betaed Disclaimer: I do not own

Author's Note: Okay here you are Squish, probably not what you wanted, but I tried.

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Inara smoothed the material of her skirt as she looked on at the few girls in her class. They were young, she could hardly remember being that young. Their youth both excited and saddened her. It had been long since she had such laughed as uninhibitedly as they had. Smiles reached their eyes; truthful smiles that made Inara miss the home she had long since abandoned.

“Are we ready to begin?’ Inara asked, a smile gracing her lips, the edges of her eyes crinkling some as the expression brought out the lines her age had endowed her with.

“Yes Ms. Serra,” the girls replied in unison, stuffing something in one of their bags. Inara raised an eyebrow and moved forward. She was conscious of how poised she walked, her back straight. She always walked with the perfect grace of a companion because that was what these girls were learning to become. Learning through example was one of Inara’s best teaching tools.

“What are you hiding Grenadine?” Inara inquired, eyeing the girl suspiciously. The girl turned bright red and looked to her friends who all look just as frightened.

“I uh…”

“Last I understood it, ‘uh’ was not a word, Grenadine,” Inara scolded smoothly.

“Sorry, Ms. Serra,” the young girl gulped, her eyes lowering to the ground.

“What do you have hidden?” Inara asked again, her voice remaining calm. The younger woman pulled up a small novel and handed it to her teacher. Inara looked down at the cover and smiled to herself. “And what’s this? It doesn’t look like your required reading.”

“One of the older girls gave it to me,” Grenadine replied sheepishly.

Inara smiled and opened the book to the first page. She was immediately appalled at the writing style and began to read it aloud. “When I was a young girl, I had me a cowboy. Weren't much to look at, just a free ramblin' man…” Inara paused, memories of a time long since forgotten floating to the surface of her consciousness. Mal. She hadn’t thought of him in years. She’d seen him last just before Serenity’s final voyage in the black. He had been a broken man then, but that wasn’t the Mal she liked to think of when she thought about Serenity’s Captain.

“Ms. Serra?” one of the students asked. Inara looked up and saw a blurred classroom. She realized then that her eyes were filled with tears. She turned towards the front of the class, taking a deep breath and reining in her emotions.

“Excuse me,” she whispered.

“Ms. Serra, are you alright?” Grenadine asked. She blinked back her tears and looked back at her class.

“Perfectly fine. I was just remembering an old friend,” she explained quickly.

“Was he a cowboy?” one of the girls asked, confusion touching her voice. Inara smiled even wider.

“He was,” she nodded.

“You knew a cowboy, Ms. Serra?” another girl asked incredulously.

“I loved a cowboy,” Inara corrected. The room fell silent and she handed the book back to Grenadine. “Please keep your recreational books in your dorm from now on. Now please take out your reading from last night so we can begin.” She moved back to the front of the room and sat down in her chair. She had thought she could forget about Mal, forget about the feelings he evoked inside of her. Instead she longed to see his weathered face again. He would always be a part of her and she hoped she would always be a part of him.

“Ms. Serra?” Grenadine asked, her book situated on the desk in front of her.

“Yes?” Inara replied.

“Will you tell us about your cowboy?”

“Yes, what was his name?”

“Was he handsome? I bet he was handsome.” The classroom erupted with questions that flustered Inara some, but she remained in control.

“His name was Malcolm and he was handsome,” Inara nodded. “But let’s discuss this another day. We have a lot to get through and not much time to get through it.” The girls let out a sad groan but dropped the subject. Even if she wanted to talk about Mal, Inara didn’t think she could. It was still too much. Burying her feelings had seemed right at the time, but now every thought was like a fresh wound reopened. She needed to close it, close the doors and forget about Malcolm. After all, he had had no trouble forgetting about her.