Title: Those Eyes

Author: AgentOmega

Genre: Angst

Rating: T for some references to intimate contact.

Pairings: Mal/Inara.

Location on Firefly Universe Timeline: Undefined, but sometime after Mal and Inara have met.

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Outwardly, Inara seems to believe the Companion party line of ‘offering companionship’. Presented here is a darker look at her inner beliefs and why she resists a relationship with Mal.

Disclaimer: The people, places, and plentiful paraphernalia you know and love/hate are the property of their respective owners, namely Joss Whedon, his associates, and any groups which control or are controlled by said individuals. No profit is made by the author of this work of fiction from the creation or distribution of said work, nor is any infringement intended. Plagiarism is considered a serious criminal offense, and punishable by law. Please ask before redistributing this work.

Length without header: 2 page(s) at 12-point Times New Roman font; 409 words; 2,003 characters including spaces.

Feedback: Some authors don’t care about feedback. I am not one of those authors. Giving feedback tells me that you took the time to read it and cared enough to comment on it. Receiving feedback is a wonderful thing, and every author should experience it.

Notes: None.

I shroud myself in shimmering silks and glittering gems for men who want only to strip me naked; I take inside me men who want only to ravage my flesh.

And for what?

A few thousand credits?

And after they have left me and I am alone, I wash my skin and hair and rub myself with enticingly scented oils; trying in vain to cleanse my soul of the grime that clings to it; trying to cover up the horrid stench of guilt that rises off of me.

And you, Malcolm Reynolds, you look at me with those eyes.

Eyes saying without words that you would love me if I were dressed in rags and ornamented with dirt; that you would bed me every night only to give me joy.

Eyes saying without words that you would offer all the riches in the universe if I told you it would please me; that you would move the heavens if I asked.

Eyes saying without words that you would never leave me and I would never be alone; that you would wash me clean with your rough but gentle hands and anoint me with warm and tender kisses.

You look at me with those eyes that say I am an angel, and I want to scream at you until my voice is gone that I am not; I fell from grace long ago and all that remains of what were once beautiful wings are ugly scars on my back.

I want to tell you that I am not worthy of your love.

But you would not listen.

You would dismiss my words and take me into your arms, whispering sweet promises of a future that I do not deserve; of a sky that I do not remember after so many years of crawling.

You would fashion me new wings of silver and lace, wrought with utmost care and devotion, and present them on bended knee.

But having forgotten the sky, I would no longer know what to do with wings.

You would hold out your hand to me as you took flight, but unable to follow you, the wings would fall from my back once more and I would be returned to a life of crawling.

You would see my inability to become what I once was, and lament it as your own inability to save me.

And this I fear the most, for your grief I could not bear.