A/N: This is angst folks, pure and simple. Don't read if that offends!

Thanks to my beta, once again, for it all.

And please continue to comment ... you guys keep me going when the plot bunnies scamper away ...

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Best Intentions, ch. 3

***

Simon and Kaylee had walked for at least twenty minutes in silence. As soon as they’d stepped outside, Kaylee had gasped slightly at the sight of the beautifully manicured lawns, the gardens dotting the corners, the large fountain resting in the middle. Sliding her hand into his, she had smiled sweetly at him and then walked on in silence, both of them enjoying the peace and the fresh air.

It was a lovely night; the moon overhead was full and shone down just enough light to guide their footsteps. The young couple soon found themselves walking at the edge of what appeared to be a rose garden. Kaylee trailed away from Simon’s side as they entered the space, moving towards a bush of sterling roses. Simon couldn’t help but smile as she bent over a bit to inhale the sweet scent. Why it surprised him that she would be drawn to such a unique flower he didn’t know; Kaylee was as precious and special as the blossom she was admiring.

“They’re real pretty,” she murmured, her fingers ghosting over the soft petals.

Moving to her side, Simon covered her hand with his and said, “They’re very rare. One of the rarest roses.” Glancing to her out of the corner of his eye, he saw her transfixed gaze and asked quietly, “Do you like them?”

Blinking quickly, Kaylee turned to him and smiled, sighing. “Oh, they’re shiny. But back at home, there’s this huge field o’ daisies, yellow ones an’ white ones, all growing wild. My cousins an’ I used to sit out there for hours, weaving daisy chains an’ the like.” She glanced back to the rose and added, “Roses is nice, but they ain’t quite as pretty to me as them daisies.”

Simon smiled at her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling his heart swell with more love for her by the second. She leaned into the touch, before again drifting away to wander through the blossoms. Watching her for a moment, he turned a bit, allowing his eyes to travel back to the sky, surprised at how comforted he felt by the sight of the stars. Normally, when they were on Serenity, he did everything in his power to avoid the cockpit, not wanting to be reminded of the vastness of space. But now, he looked at the twinkling lights, feeling a bit of relief, and then slowly turned his gaze back towards the Serra’s estate. With a myriad of contradictory thoughts, Simon was hardly aware of anything until he heard Kaylee’s soft voice.

“So, is this what your home’s like?”

Blinking rapidly to bring his mind back to the present, Simon turned to find her regarding him. She had wrapped her arms around herself, the wind turning a bit chilly and Simon moved to her side instantly, removing his jacket and placing it on her shoulders. Smiling her thanks to him, Kaylee watched as his eyes again canvassed his memory and listened for his answer.

Keeping his hands on her shoulders, Simon glanced back to the house and said, “Yes. Although our estate isn’t that big.” Scanning their surroundings, he said, “But we do have a fairly extensive yard, similar to this one, I guess.”

Kaylee nodded once and swallowed hard. With her heart pounding in her chest uncomfortably, she dropped her eyes to the ground and asked quietly, “And your folks? They like ‘Nara’s?”

This question pulled Simon’s mind from that far-off place in an instant. Cupping her chin in his hand, Simon brought her big green eyes to his face and said softly, “Kaylee.” He paused then realizing, that if he said no it would be a lie. With a sigh, he said instead, “I’d like to tell you they aren’t. That you would love them, but that just wouldn’t be true. They can be … challenging,” he finished, wishing there was a better word.

Kaylee nodded again and then stepped away from him, her own gaze drifting to the stars. She just didn’t understand how good, decent people like Simon and River and Inara could be raised by folks who so obviously weren’t good or decent. Kaylee didn’t like to think bad about people, it went against most of what she believed about the ‘verse in general, but that supper had just confirmed for her what her daddy had always said – money changes folk.

Simon watched her shoulders slump and he searched for something, anything to say that might make her laugh; make her flash him one of those giant Kaylee smiles. Allowing his gaze to roam, he found the large fountain in the center of the garden and remembered something. Walking to her, he turned her around and took her hands in his. “When I was a boy, before River was born, my mother commissioned a local artist to make a fountain for our backyard.” He began the story and then slowly started walking her towards the lighted stone. “She wanted a statue of the Greek god Adonis, I don’t even remember why now.” Smiling, Simon remembered with a chuckle his mother’s surprise when the large piece had been installed. “The day it came to the house, it was hideous. Instead of Adonis, the sculptor had given us a rendition of Ares, with guns and cannons and these bodies strewn over a battlefield and …” Simon glanced to Kaylee hoping to see her smiling at his story, but he saw that instead of making her happier, he’d only proved to sadden her further.

With a sigh, she sat heavily on the edge of the fountain and pulled his jacket tighter around her shoulders. Feeling like a fool, Simon said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

Looking to him with a startled and slightly bitter expression, Kaylee asked, “Why are you sorry?” When he didn’t answer her, she again dropped her gaze to the ground, watching as her foot pushed around a few pebbles. “I’m the unusual girl who travels ‘round in a ship full o’ men, fixin’ things, with grease under her fingernails. Who don’t know which fork to use or how to hold a wine glass or-“

Simon reached for her hands and pulled her to her feet easily as she continued her tirade. Drawing her to him, Simon kissed her, deeply, passionately, and despite her melancholy mood, Kaylee responded. She wound her arms around his neck, as his mouth worked over hers, his tongue gently running along her lower lip before he deepened the kiss, flattening his hands to her back and pulling her even closer.

When they were forced to part for air, their foreheads touching, it was Simon who spoke. His hand against her cheek, he told her quietly, “That doesn’t matter. Not any of it.”

With a heavy sigh, Kaylee did not pull away, but said, “Yeah, it do, especially if’n you wanna go home.”

Releasing his own sigh, Simon told her, “Kaylee-“

Pulling away from him, Kaylee said harshly, “I don’t know why you keep pretendin’ you ain’t been thinkin’ ‘bout it. I know you have.”

Dropping his chin to his chest, Simon rubbed a hand along his neck, trying to conjure a way to avoid this conversation. When none came, he raised his eyes again to regard her and saw a set expression to her jaw which he had seen before. “Don’t you lie to me, Simon Tam,” she told him hotly, her arms over her chest.

With a small smile, Simon nodded and relented. “Yes, I’ve been thinking about it.”

Kaylee tried to bury her rising fear as she asked, “And?”

“And,” Simon said, again moving towards her, glad that she didn’t back away. Placing his hands gently on her shoulders, he said, “Nothing, Kaylee. It’s not an option right now.”

“Why?” she asked him, her eyes searching his for an answer. She wanted to know what was going on in that head of his. “I know you wanna go back there.”

Sighing, Simon said sharply, “No, I don’t.” When Kaylee regarded him with a look of disbelief, he allowed his tone to soften. “Okay, I do. I’d like to go back and practice medicine again, in a real hospital, but …” He didn’t know what to tell her; the truth was Simon couldn’t go because of her, he couldn’t leave her behind. But he feared that if he told Kaylee that she would feel worse, knowing that she was preventing him from doing what he wanted, from living his life. But she was quickly becoming his life … there had to be a solution – Simon just hadn’t found it yet. “But the timing isn’t right. And it’s not a decision I need to make right now,” he told her, again reaching for her, his hand to her cheek.

Holding his gaze intently, Kaylee wanted to believe him. “Are you sure?”

By way of an answer, Simon pulled her closer to him and wrapped his arms loosely around her waist. With that swai grin she loved so much, he told her quietly, “You know what I’m sure of?” When she only grinned sheepishly, Simon brought her even closer to him and murmured, “I’m sure that it’s a beautiful night, we are in a beautiful garden and you are the most beautiful woman in the ‘verse.”

As he said this last, he leaned close and pressed his lips against hers, smiling slightly as Kaylee again wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed against his mouth. “Mmm, are you sure you’re sure?” she teased him, pulling back slightly to regard him with shining eyes. “I’m not convinced.”

Smiling back at her, Simon kissed her again, his hand cupping the back of her head, his mouth and tongue working fervently to express his passion. “How about now?” he asked, when they again parted.

Frowning slightly at him, Kaylee murmured, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He kissed her again and this was the longest kiss of all. Ai ya, she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. “And now?”

Looking to him with sparkling eyes, she leaned into him, her lips against his ear and said, “I might need some more convincin’.”

With a grin of his own and another quick peck to the cheek, Simon took her hand and led her back inside.

***

Inara burst into the room they’d been assigned, glad to see her bags already there. Grabbing one with a vengeance, she threw it onto the bed, as Mal waited for the maid to bring his things from where they had been placed in the room next door. As soon as the young woman had dropped them off, Mal closed the door, and leaned against it, watching with a bit of amusement and concern as Inara fumed.

“Oh, that woman!” She was angry, that was no secret. Pulling some of her toiletries from her bag, she stalked to the bathroom and started setting them out, the sharp bangs and harsh mutterings as she continued to rant carrying to Mal who was still in the outer room. With a sigh, he walked across the room and took off his shoes and jacket, sitting on the bed and waiting for her to reemerge so they could talk.

Once Inara came back, still raging, Mal watched her for a moment and then finally asked, “So, you gonna tell me ‘bout this other love o’ yer life you left the Guild for?”

“Is that all you can ask me?” Inara’s blazing eyes met Mal’s cool gaze and she stood in the middle of the room shoulders heaving as she tried to control herself. Pointing to the now closed door, she asked hotly, “Did you hear the things she was saying? Did you see the way she turned her nose up at Kaylee? At you?” Pausing, she took a deep breath and then reiterated, “And all you can do is ask me about someone I loved a lifetime ago?” Exasperated, Inara dropped her eyes and walked across the room to the closet, muttering, “Typical.”

Mal watched her go and then stood, following her. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he felt her body tense as she inhaled a sharp breath at the contact. “So, you gonna tell me or what?”

With a sigh, Inara turned to regard him and some of the fight left her. Casting her eyes to the floor, she said, “Mal, there’s really nothing to tell.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Mal said challengingly, “Oh, I’m thinkin’ there is, considerin’ I ain’t the first man you’ve ever denounced your profession for.”

Bringing her eyes back to his face, Mal was surprised by the amount of pain he saw there. He knew this was tough for her, but the haunted look that plagued her brown eyes now made his blood run cold. Reaching for her instinctively, Inara sidestepped him and went back towards the bed, pulling out a few more of her clothes. “It wasn’t like that,” she said quietly.

“Uh huh,” Mal said disbelievingly. Stepping into her path, he told her, “I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna need the captain-dummy version o’ that, darlin’.”

With another sigh, Inara raised her gaze to his face and saw his concern there, along with his confusion and possibly a hint of jealousy. If there was one thing Mal had a hard time with it was her job which was one of the main reasons she had stopped taking clients; their relationship was complicated enough, add the Guild into the mix and it just became downright messy.

But the story he was asking her for … Inara knew that if he had any concept of what he was requesting he would have backed off. Of course, how could he know? It’s not as if Inara had given him anything to go on other than her silence. And that was bound to make him all manner of nervous.

Holding his gaze for a second more, Inara finally sighed and then again sidestepped him moving towards the dresser to put her clothes away. “No, Mal. I’m sorry. I can’t, not-“

She stopped in mid-sentence and Mal let out his own sigh of frustration. Dropping his chin to his chest, he was about to admonish her again when he heard her sharp intake of breath. Turning quickly at the sound, he saw Inara staring at the room’s dresser, her hand clamped over her mouth.

Moving towards the wooden credenza slowly, Inara reached out a shaky hand to a vase of flowers there – white roses from what Mal could see. He watched with fascination as Inara fingered a few of the petals and whispered in a broken voice, “Why?”

Then, with a suddenness that startled him, she hefted the vase into her hand and hurled it against the far wall, shattering the crystal and spraying water, glass and flowers in all directions. Staring at the now wet and ruined wall, she was still heaving, her shoulders rising and falling in rhythm with her anger. Mal watched dumbfounded, his gaze darting between the shattered glass and destroyed flowers and her. Within seconds he heard a knock on the door, and someone called, “Miss Serra, is everything all right?”

Her eyes still blazing with anger, Inara shouted, “Yes, fine. Leave us be.”

After she was sure the servant had gone, Inara continued to move about, heading for the bed, where she had draped her nightgown. Mal intercepted her, his hands again on her shoulders, just as she was about to undress.

Stopping Inara flashed him an angry look, but he didn’t flinch. “You wanna tell me what exactly you got ‘gainst them flowers?” His voice had a forced levity. He was trying not to panic at Inara’s untoward behavior. Mal had seen her mad plenty of times before – he’d often been the cause of her anger – but he’d never seen her so incensed. It was unsettling.

With an impatient look, Inara stepped away from him and said harshly, “Shut up, Mal.”

As he stood there, his mouth gaping at her words and her attitude, she changed quickly and then got into bed, tossing and turning violently, before finally settling under the covers with her back to him. Mal regarded her for a few more moments, knowing that she had no intention of sleeping anytime soon. Inara could never go to bed angry, it was one of the things he loved about her as their late night bouts often resulted in late night make-up sex too.

He watched her covered form continue to rise and fall with her heaving breaths and finally, with a heavy sigh, grabbed his bag and tromped into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Inara rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She heard the shower start and breathed a slight sigh of relief knowing that she had at least twenty minutes before Mal would be back, demanding more answers.

Answers she could not give him. Well, would not, at any rate. Glancing to the mess of flowers against the room’s wall, Inara felt the sting of tears and she blinked them back quickly. It was ridiculous, all of it. It had been ten years ago, how could it still bother her now, after a decade? With another sigh, Inara felt a twinge of guilt at the mess she’d made. Rising slowly, she padded across the room and reached for some of the broken glass, her hand hovering over one of the long-stemmed flowers. Almost without thought, she picked it up, its white petals unblemished by her rage.

With the pain of memories she couldn’t hold back, her hand shook and her knees weakened and Inara made it to the edge of the bed, sitting back on its soft surface and staring at the flower she held. It was like this that Mal found her twenty minutes later.

He stepped out of the bathroom rubbing a towel over his wet hair, his chest still damp from his shower, his bottom half encased in sleep pants. Removing the towel from his face, he turned to throw it back into the now steamy bathroom and when he again looked to the room, glancing to the bed to check on Inara, he stopped. Mal watched with fascination as Inara stared at nothing. She was rolling the stem of the flower she held between her thumb and forefinger, her eyes wide and vacant and fixated on a point Mal could not see.

Gingerly, Mal padded across the room towards her and sat down beside her, keeping his distance. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he found himself swallowing back a fresh wave of concern as he asked softly, “’Nara? You okay?”

Still staring into space, Inara shook her head just once, her dark curls shaking over her shoulders. Reaching out a hand, Mal took hers in his and asked quietly, “You wanna talk ‘bout it?”

His touch brought her back to the present, and with a heavy sigh, Inara set the flower onto the night stand and said quietly, “No, I really don’t.”

Mal watched her for a few more moments, knowing that despite her desire to avoid whatever was eating at her, she wouldn’t be able to for much longer. Moving his hand to her shoulder, Mal brushed her hair back and rested his palm against her cheek. “C’mon, ‘Nara. Tell me.”

With another sigh, Inara blinked back tears and rose slowly. She moved about the room aimlessly, her arms crossed over her chest protectively as if cradling a wound. Staying where he was, Mal kept his eyes locked on her form, looking for any sign of physical distress that would signal her need for him. Right now, the only thing he could see was her emotional pain and while it hurt him to see it, he knew that until she owned up to it, he’d be powerless to help.

Not bothering to face him, Inara sank into a soft chair across the room, folding her legs up underneath her. Shivering slightly, although not from the temperature, Inara’s eyes again focused on a far-off point as she began to speak. “My parents weren’t wrong,” she started quietly, her voice as lifeless as her gaze. “I did leave the Guild once before. It was a long time ago and it turned out to be one of the more misguided things I’ve ever done, but … Well, I did it.”

Swallowing thickly, Mal rose as he saw her eyes well with unshed tears. Moving to her side, he knelt at her feet and covered one of her hands with his own. “Why’d you do it?” he asked gently, hoping to coax the memory from her and hopefully the pain that accompanied it.

Smiling weakly, but still not meeting his gaze, she said, “For all the wrong reasons.” Closing her eyes for a moment, one tear finally broke free and ran down her perfect, tan cheek. Not bothering to wipe it away, when she again opened her brown eyes, she spoke softly, “My parents had wanted me to be a companion since I’d been born. Does that surprise you?” she asked, dropping her eyes to his face. If he was surprised, his face did not show it.

Shrugging lightly, she continued. “Everything I ever did was to prepare me for entering the Guild. My education, dance lessons, etiquette classes, all of it. My parents worked so hard to prepare me, and by the time I was twelve, I was ready.” Releasing another heavy sigh, Inara’s mind wandered back to that time, remembering how excited and intimidated she’d been to walk up those hundreds of stairs to enter Sihnon’s most distinguished training house. She had been so young.

“I really liked it too, Mal,” she told him quietly, knowing he’d have a hard time understanding. Trying to explain, she added, “There was so much tradition, so much honor that surrounded the Guild, surrounded Companions. I know you think it was just a glorified whore academy, but there’s more to it than that,” she said, her voice taking on an urgent quality, almost begging him to believe her.

Mal felt his cheeks color at her words, knowing that he had, on quite a few occasions, called her a whore or worse; made fun of her profession and the trappings it brought with it. But Mal hadn’t understood then, he wasn’t sure he understood even now, but that didn’t matter anymore. He loved her, Inara Serra, not Inara the Companion, and while Inara had tried to impress upon him that there was no difference between the two, he knew differently. He knew there was, because he had seen her at her most naked moment, held her in his arms, watched her cry tears of grief and joy – and that was the woman he loved. And there was nothing false about her.

“I was good,” she continued quietly, her eyes staring again. “Everyone said so. I impressed all my teachers and the other girls. Some of them were jealous, but most of them were kind. I thought I was ready for anything, I thought I could do anything, but then … well, I met Jeremiah.”

Mal’s breath hitched quickly at the mention of the name, but he stayed still, kept his hand over hers, wanting her to continue. He knew that whatever she said couldn’t really affect him or them. She was his now, as much as he was hers; this was just a part of her past that he needed to understand.

Looking back to the flowery mess across the room, the barest smile ghosted her lips as she said, “He was the gardener’s son and a few years older. He’d started working at the house with his father a year or so after I began attending. He was very handsome, in a rugged sort of hard-working way,” she recalled fondly, the image of that young boy’s face springing to mind unbidden. “We were just passing acquaintances, nothing more. We never should have been more, but …”

With another sigh, Inara dropped her gaze to her lap, her fingers toying with the fabric of her nightgown. “I was so foolish,” she said bitterly, tears still filling her eyes, the sobs beginning to well in her throat. “I knew it was wrong, we both did. That was probably part of what made it so exciting. He’d leave me a rose, a single white rose, every night on my windowsill,” she added. She knew, deep down, in her gut, that her mother had planted those flowers on purpose. Of course it was an irrational and baseless accusation, but it didn’t matter – Inara knew it.

Mal’s eyes traveled to the soggy mess, understanding dawning. So that was why she’d hurled the arrangement across the room, they’d reminded her of him. Looking back to her, he asked softly, “What happened?”

Shrugging lightly, Inara continued to study her lap as she said quietly, “I fell in love with him. I made love to him,” she added, her voice dropping to a whisper. Closing her eyes for a moment, the sensation of that first time swept over her in a second and she shuddered slightly.

“And?” Mal prompted, wishing he didn’t now have an image in his mind of a very young Inara having sex with some gardener.

“And we thought it was the real thing,” she said, her voice growing heavy with more emotion, more memories. “So, we packed up and went.” Looking to him again, Mal saw that more tears had fallen from her eyes, her cheeks sporting matching trail stains. Wishing he knew how to make this easier, he simply swallowed hard and waited for her to continue. “I didn’t just leave the Guild, Mal,” she explained. “I ran away.

“We didn’t get very far, we basically had no money, but we were happy, for a time.” Her voice grew wistful again and Mal noted how her tears ran in even paths down her face, dripping off her chin and into her curls. Shifting slightly, he moved his hand from hers up to her cheek and brushed some of the drops away lightly with his thumb. She closed her eyes against his touch, sighing lightly and Mal was glad that he was able to offer her some comfort.

“Then what happened?” Mal’s voice was gruff with emotion, but he kept asking, kept pushing, and Inara knew how uncomfortable this must be for him.

“He left me,” she said quietly, her eyes still closed, more tears falling. “I woke up one morning in this dingy room we’d rented and there was a white rose on his pillow and a note. All it said was ‘I’m sorry,’” she relayed, her tears falling steadily now. The pain of the memory wouldn’t have been half as bad if she could have forgotten the next year after Jeremiah had gone. It always seemed the aftermath of heartbreak was so much worse than the actual injury.

Mal’s heart swelled with concern for Inara, even as his gut churned with a violent desire to track Jeremiah down and bash his head in. Trying to think of something that might comfort her, Mal said quietly, “Well, you survived it, darlin’. You went back to the Guild and you’ve had a good life. That’s gotta count for somethin’.”

Looking to him with an incredulous gaze, Inara knew that Mal was only trying to be supportive, but he couldn’t know, he couldn’t possibly know how untrue that statement was. With a heavy sigh and not a word, Inara unwound her legs from beneath her and rose, walking slowly across the room to her bag. Reaching into it, she pulled the little blue dress that she’d kept all these years and ran her hand over the silky material. The sight of it again and the memories of Jeremiah brought her sobs to the surface. Rounding the bed, Inara sank onto it, crying heavily now, her head falling into her hands. Instant concern filled Mal and he hurried to her side, sitting down and placing an arm around her shoulders.

Without a word, Inara curled into him, burying her face in his chest, her body heaving with sobs. Unaccustomed to this much sadness from her, Mal could only hold her back, hoping that she would be ready to tell him what had her so upset. He knew now this wasn’t about a lost love; it was something far more painful.

Cautiously, he reached out his free hand and gently took the dress she held from her grasp. She let it go, and kept her head buried against his shoulder, her steady tears still blurring her vision. As Mal studied the garment a bit more closely, he realized in a rush what it was and he felt his lips set into a firm line as the pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

Laying the dress over his lap, he asked quietly, “Who’d this belong to, ‘Nara?”

Still shaking, Inara took in a few deep breaths and muttered, “Her.”

With a silent sigh, Mal placed a finger under her chin and tipped her face up to his so he could meet her red-rimmed eyes. Quietly, he asked again, “Who?”

As more tears came, Inara reached out for the dress and wrapped it into her hand. “My daughter,” she whispered, her voice broken with her emotion.

Closing his eyes against what he’d known to be true, Mal tilted his head back with an angry sigh. “That tamade hun dan left you when you were pregnant with his kid?” he asked incredulously, trying to temper his rage and finding it difficult.

With a heavy sigh, Inara answered quietly, “I was about four months along when he left. This was the only thing we bought for her,” she added in a whisper, her eyes still fixed on the dark blue fabric.

As she took a moment to remember, Mal wrapped his arm more tightly around her shoulders, pressing a kiss into her hair. He’d know that Inara’s past hadn’t been all puppies and parades, but he’d never considered how incredibly bad it could really be.

Inara cried a few more silent tears, so glad Mal was with her. She took comfort in his arms even as she felt more of her disgust and self-loathing take hold in her heart. It had been so long ago, but the pain was fresh, as if the wound had just been inflicted moments before.

After a few more minutes of silence, Mal finally asked, “What happened?”

Sighing again, Inara unwound herself from Mal’s arms and stood shakily, walking to one of the room’s big windows and standing before it. Maybe if she stared at the stars she’d feel some peace … maybe not.

“I came home,” she murmured, her glistening eyes never wavering from the sky above. “I had to. I tried to stay out on my own, but I was so scared. I didn’t know what else to do.” Dropping her eyes to the floor finally, she said in a whisper, “So, I showed up on my parents’ doorstep almost five months pregnant, an absolute disgrace and begged them to take me in.”

Mal felt a ball of anger burn in his gut. There shouldn’t have been any “begging” involved; Inara was their daughter, Edward and Liliana should have taken her back with open arms, glad to know they were going to be grandparents, proud to know that their daughter had survived such a heartache.

Rising, he moved to her side, and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned into him, but did not turn into his embrace, still keeping her face towards the window. “What’d they say?” he asked quietly, his voice a murmur in her hair.

Inara would have laughed if the memory hadn’t been so painful. “They said they would help me on two conditions. One,” she began to relay, her voice devoid of any emotion, “I had to return to the Guild and never look back.”

Swallowing thickly as Mal realized he’d been the cause for her breaking that little ultimatum, he quickly returned his attention to her profile, noting how her lips had again set into that firm line. “And two that I had to give the baby up for adoption.”

Mal inhaled sharply, having guessed that’s where this was going, but wanting to know for sure. He watched her again, as she pulled away from him to sit on one of the room’s plush window seats. Pulling her knees up into her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and said brokenly, “I heard her cry, just once, that first time and then she was gone.” More tears fell, silent and steady and Inara just let them come. “I wanted to hold her, just for a minute, to see her, but my mother wouldn’t allow it. She just whisked her away and left me, all alone, sobbing and hurting. I didn’t come out of my room for over a month, not until it was time for me to return to the Guild.”

Dropping her forehead against her knees, Inara’s shoulders again heaved with sobs and Mal rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her and carrying her sobbing form to the bed. He laid her down gently, sliding her into the warm covers and then, he lay down beside her. She rolled over and into his side the minute he was close, burying her face against his shoulder again. Mal kept his arm around her shoulders, his other running a light hand down her cheek, catching some of the tears there.

“It was so long ago, Mal, but being here,” she began shakily. “It just brought it all back.”

“That’s why you didn’t wanna come?” Mal asked needlessly, again cursing his idiocy at forcing the issue. Pulling her a bit tighter, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and whispered, “I’m so sorry, ‘Nara.”

Shaking her head against his chest, her soft brown curls tickled a bit, as she told him, “No, I should be better than this, stronger. She shouldn’t still be able to get to me, but …”

“But she does,” Mal finished, knowing the powerful effect parents could have over their children. Hell, he’d never even met his father and the man haunted Mal every day of his life.

Inara didn’t confirm his assertion, but she didn’t need to. He knew he was right and so did she. After more minutes of silence as Inara’s breathing returned to normal and her tears dried, Mal asked softly, “Did ya ever find out what happened to her?”

Biting her lip, Inara didn’t know why she was hesitating now; if Mal hadn’t already bolted at her admission, she doubted this little fact would put him over the edge. Not bothering to look at him, she said, “Yes. About two years ago. I couldn’t take not knowing anymore so I hired a private investigator.”

If Mal was surprised, he hid it well. “And?”

With another sigh, Inara finally did look back to gaze at him, her red-rimmed eyes locked on his face. “I found her,” she whispered. “I wanted to meet her, but I knew I couldn’t. She was so happy and beautiful. Oh, Mal, she was beautiful,” Inara breathed, her eyes tearing at the memory.

Kissing her cheek, Mal murmured against her skin, “Well, that don’t surprise me in the slightest darlin’. Look at her ma.”

Inara smiled sadly at his compliment, and then finished her story. “After I saw her, I kept trying to see her again, catch glimpses of her wherever I could. But the Guild found out and they weren’t happy; neither were my parents. So they gave me a choice.” Inhaling a shaky breath, Inara said, “I could either get off Sihnon and ply my trade through the ‘verse or I could be expelled from the Guild.”

Mal put the timeline together in an instant. “So that’s why you was lookin’ for passage on my old wreck of a boat?”

Nodding once, Inara swatted his arm lightly and scolded, “Don’t talk that way about our home, Mal. Serenity’s beautiful.”

“Only with you on board, darlin’,” he murmured, again nuzzling against the soft skin of her face.

Sighing, Inara was amazed at how much better she felt, getting everything out in the open. She hadn’t wanted to ever tell Mal that story, she felt so foolish. But now that he knew, he’d done exactly what she’d suspected; he held her and supported her and tried to comfort her. He still loved her and why Inara had doubted that now, after all their time together, was a mystery to her.

Nestling further into him, Mal heard her sigh contentedly and hesitantly he asked, “You okay?”

“Better than I thought I’d be,” Inara said softly, feeling the pull of sleep. She was drained, so many of her emotions having run so close to the surface and wearing her out.

“Is there anythin’ I can do?” Mal asked, feeling completely useless, knowing that while Inara wasn’t crying anymore she was still suffering.

“Don’t let me go,” she murmured, her breath warm against his chest.

Smiling slightly, Mal dropped another kiss into her hair and held her tight, determined to fulfill her very simple request.

***

TBC