Mal was weary, more from the arguing than the walking. He and Inara were stranded on Jiangyin, a good twenty miles out from Serenity, after crashing the shuttle. Crash may be the wrong word. Safely landed with unintentional gusto. Not totaled, but it wouldn’t fly again, which meant they had to walk back. Totally her fault – at least, that’s what he kept telling himself. Not that he could hear much over her constant yammering. As they walked, it amazed him how much they had to talk about, and that even the most sedate of topics could be turned into something controversial. A chill hung in the air, so that the moisture frosted around them. The morning rains had created a virtual quagmire, and at times, his boots would sink in up to the ankles in the cold, slushy mud. Inara had been pacing him at first, but took to following so she could trace his footsteps and not sink quite so much. “Those shoes’ll kill ya,” he criticized, interrupting her tirade on molded protein. “Why are we talking about my shoes?” “Look at ‘em, all high-heeled and fancy strapped!” Mal paused and pointed, giving her an opportunity to regain her footing. The shoes were open-toed, with two delicately beaded straps over the top and a red ribbon around the ankle. The heel was about 4 inches higher than the toe, which was already two inches off the ground. Must’ve been a tall client. She used the brief stop to stabilize on both feet, pulling her maroon cloak tighter around her body. Even with his coat, Mal could feel the chill and he knew she must be freezing… except for the argument keeping her blood boiling. “Not practical for walkin’.” “I can walk just fine.” “We got a day’s journey back to Serenity and they’re already slowin’ us down.” “Only because you’ve stopped walking to stare at them!” “I ain’t –” “You set the pace, Mal,” she said icily. “I’ll keep up.

*~*

Inara’s feet ached from the tall shoes, her toes were freezing, and she could feel a blister starting to form where the strap was rubbing her skin raw. She’d nearly toppled in the mud, wrenching her knee painfully, but she kept silent, still fuming at Mal. So long as she was angry it wasn’t quite so cold. The man was insufferable, but after he’d criticized her shoes, she decided to keep silent. If only because the pain in her knee had elevated to nauseating and he was aggravating her. The shoes had been a gift from a sister at the Training House. The soft earth tones went with just about everything she wore, and they were extremely comfortable – when not walking through unstable mud… which she wouldn’t be doing if the shuttle hadn’t gone down, so really this was all his fault and he had no place to criticize. Mal had set a brisk pace and Inara was pretty sure he was lost after the first mile. Dark, heavy clouds rolled in, threatening to turn the miry soil into an all-out bog. At least they’d started on a rockier path and the footing was more stable. She took long strides to keep up with Mal as he quickened his step. Was it her imagination or was he reaching a hand back toward her, beckoning her to his side? Inara rubbed her hands on her arms, trying to warm herself with friction as the wind threatened to topple her. She couldn’t straighten her knee without and unpleasant popping feel, like a rubber band snapping. If he wanted her at his side, he’d have to hang back. A loud roll of thunder stilled them both and they looked up to the heavens. Then the sky opened up and it began to rain.

*~*

Mal ducked into the cave, brushing the rainwater off his coat and laughing hysterically. Inara followed him in tentatively and he took her hand to maneuver her around him in the darkness. They were still half a day’s walk from Serenity when the sky split, and between the rain, the chill in the air, and Inara’s slowing pace, Mal figured it was best to find shelter and wait till morning. “You alright?” Mal asked, shaking his head at their misfortune as he sat to empty the water from his boots and wring out his socks. Inara stood next to the cave wall, cloak pulled tightly around her, shivering. Her dark, soaked hair was pushed serenely away from her face and could not have looked more perfect if she’d styled it that way. She pressed her hands against the cave wall, favoring her right leg, looking about ready to sit, but she didn’t. “‘Nara,” Mal tried again when she didn’t answer. “Hmm?” “You okay?” “Fine,” she answered distantly, gazing out into the torrent. Lightning flashed across the sky casting ghostly shadows across her face. “You gonna stand up all night?” “All night?” she repeated slowly, her eyes lined with confusion. “We should keep going. We need to get back.” “I ain’t walkin’ through this torrent with Little Miss Tall-shoes.” “I can walk just fine, Mal. Lead the way.” “I led the way. Right here. I’m sittin’ down for the night and I suggest you do the same.” “Mal, I can’t,” she retorted, her tone clipped. “Why? The ground too hard?” “No, I –” Inara trailed off, frustrated, her arm gesturing to her right leg. “I can’t,” she began again, and Mal realized she was saying that she physically could not get herself to the ground. Silenced for the sake of her dignity, Mal stood gingerly, and with as few words as possible, helped lower her to the ground without putting pressure on the affected leg. Once she was leaning comfortably against the wall of the cave, he removed her shoes and rinsed the sores on her feet with rain water. Cupping his hands outside the entrance, he gathered some water, transferring it to her hands so she could drink. Then, sitting down next to her, he began wringing the water from her dress. “Stop that,” she chastised, swatting his hand. “You can’t twist this material! You’ll ruin it.” “Fine,” Mal retorted, backing off defensively. He was always more irritable when he was hungry. “But I ain’t carrying you tomorrow if you still have 40 pounds of water weight in your dress.” “You won’t be carrying me,” Inara assured stiffly, pressing water from the fabric between her fingers in a manner that promised to take the entire evening. Hungry and tired, Mal shrugged off his coat and placed it under Inara’s injured leg to elevate it, then he went to the far side of the cave, hugged his arms around himself, and tried to get some sleep.

*~*

The rain lasted long into the night, pooling at the entrance to the cave. Inara lay down on the floor, her breath coming in short gasps, in intense pain. Her calves were cramping after the long day of walking in her decorative shoes, and because she couldn’t bend her knee properly, she could not massage herself to peace. As she tried to shift to a more comfortable position, her knee popped and she cried out unintentionally. “Go to sleep, ‘Nara,” Mal ordered, from half-dazed dreamland. Inara suppressed the cries through her body, looking at the man. He had replaced the coat under her knee with a smooth stone and had cushioned it with his own shirt. His coat, he’d moved upwards, making a pillow for her head after he’d helped her lie down. He had tented her cloak over her body so that she’d be warm, but she’d tossed it off at one point as fever overtook her. Now she longed for it back as she broke out in chills, but when she reached for it, the pain was too much. It felt strange to lie here in so much pain after all Mal had done to make her comfortable, and then to look across and see him half-dressed, sleeping on the bare dirt. Gritting her teeth, Inara reached for her discarded cloak again, small whimpers escaping her. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt Mal’s hand on her leg. He’d scooted over to her and his hands were running up and down her calves. At first she feared for her physical safety, frustrated because she felt so helpless. Then she remembered that this was Mal, the most noble of non-gentlemen. “Relax. I ain’t tryin’ nothin’,” he assured, his eyes still half-closed, as if he were moving in his sleep. She felt her muscles relaxing under his touch, the pressure and pain of her cramped calves fading. Briefly, Inara wondered if Mal was a reader because he seemed to know just where the pain was and how to fix it. “I done a lot of walkin’ in my time,” Mal whispered, reaching around and putting the cloak in her hand so she could cover herself, then working her muscles again. ‘That must be it,’ Inara thought, as the pain subsided enough for her to rest. ‘A reader.’ “It’s those shoes that killed ya.”

*~*

Inara woke up to the pleasant scent of Mal next to her face – soap, leather, and gun oil. That and a painful throbbing in her knees told her that the world was not as it should be. She turned her head against the hard pillow – Mal’s coat – and squinted her eyes open as the sunlight invaded their cave. Her dry tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth and she couldn’t decide if she was freezing or burning up. Mal had fallen asleep with his hands on her legs, but she no longer felt him there. Sitting up a little too quickly, the throb in her knee elevated to a painful snap and she cried out. Mal ducked by the cave entrance, silhouetted by sunlight, gun drawn. He set something down just inside and motioned her to be quiet. Or he motioned her to come. In the lighting it’s hard to tell. “Mal?” Urgently, he held out a hand to silence her. That one was clear. Inara could barely hear her heart beat above the throbbing in her knee, but her shallow breathing marked out the seconds as she waited for him to relax. Finally the tension broke in his body and he hopped over the puddle left by last night’s downpour and entered the cave, bringing a large bucket with him. “What’s going on?” “Seems we’re trespassing on private property.” With a smile, he brought over the item he’d dropped by the door. By the scent, Inara guessed a cherry pie. “Did you steal that?” “Right off the window sill,” he answered with a satisfied grin. “S’ why you need to keep it down. Give away our hidin’ spot and we won’t have time to eat this.” “Was someone chasing you?” “Not anymore. He found the crumbs in the goat pen. Seems that poor billy’s gettin’ whooped for stealin’ again. Want some?” Inara looked hungrily at the pie, but she was so dehydrated her mouth couldn’t even water with anticipation. “I don’t think I can eat.” Mal held out the plate insistently. He’d already swiped a handful and was eating with his fingers. “You gotta eat.” “I mean, I don’t know… I’m thirsty.” “Oh.” Mal grabbed the bucket he’d brought in and set it next to her, indicating she should drink the water that was in it. Despite the obvious dirt clinging to the sides, she did so gratefully. Although Mal ridiculed and poked fun about many things, Inara found that whenever she stated a need, he never questioned. He merely offered what he could and gave her dignity when she accepted his help. It was strange to experience because under normal circumstances, she always felt compelled to uphold her own dignity against his insults. The man was such a mystery to her.

*~*

“You should go ahead to Serenity and come back for me.” “Ain’t gonna happen,” Mal retorted, raking a hand through his still-wet hair. “Who’s to say we can even get back on this property again to come get you? “Fine, then help me to stand. I’ll just hobble.” Mal groaned loudly, trying to argue her down, but the woman would not see reason. The walk was too far for a crip with impractical shoes and he was too frigid to argue. He’d sacrificed his shirt to cushion the splint he’d put around her knee, and no matter how tightly he buttoned up his brown coat, he still missed that initial layer of insulation. The circular arguing was getting him nowhere, so finally he decided on a practical lesson. With a bit of a fume, he let her win, and helped her to stand. She weren’t on her feet for two minutes before the good knee buckled and she was on the floor again, vomiting up all the pie she had for breakfast. Gently, Mal knelt beside her, holding back her hair as she wretched. Then he offered some fresh water so she could drink and rinse her mouth. Was she shivering from the cold or the pain? Was that sweat on her forehead? “I’m fine,” Inara rasped, sitting, exhausted on the floor of the cave. “Sure you are,” Mal agreed, scooping her up in his arms and heading out. “I’m just shaky because I didn’t get much sleep,” she said weakly, determined to make her point. Mal didn’t answer, he just quietly walked on, stepping over the puddle at the cave’s entrance and then making his way. “Put me down, I can walk just fine,” she insisted. Mal didn’t put her down. “Put me down or I’ll scream until I draw those people you stole the pie from.” “Don’t do this with me, ‘Nara,” he threatened quietly. “Anyone who leaves pies in the windowsill can’t be dangerous.” “They ain’t the type that are kind to whores.” He felt Inara tense angrily in his arms, getting ready for a bellow. If she weren’t making herself dead weight in his arms, he would’ve been able to cover her mouth without putting her down. She was banking on the fact that he’d set her down to silence her. Inara started raising her voice and being demanding and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why. He had a real notion that she might think she could just sit in those folk’s kitchen and wait for him to come back for her, and truth be told, he’d like nothing more. But he’d seen the folks at the farmhouse and refused to take that chance with her. Inara was kicking her good leg at him and he could tell she was about to scream. Short of dropping her… Suddenly, Mal pressed his lips on Inara’s, capturing her scream. She kicked her good leg more urgently, but she became significantly less shrill. When he pulled away, she was completely still and stared at him in shock. “Seems I don’t have to put you down to cover your mouth.” Inara gaped at him a full minute and were he not concentrating on walking, he would’ve laughed at her. When she came to her senses, she was shaky and upset, her voice insistent. “Mal, put me down. Put me down.” The pleas were quick now, like she was about to break if he held her a moment longer. “Can’t carry you all riled up like this, Nara. Let’s cross that last fence out of these people’s property and I promise I’ll set you down.” Mal looked at her face again as she pressed her lips together turning her eyes away, her body shaking. It was just a kiss. Woman in her line of work kisses folks all the time. Why was she so upset? If it were anyone but Inara, he would have dismissed the confounding female response and congratulated himself on successfully silencing his quarry. But this was Inara, and so he felt regret.

*~*

Mal didn’t set her down at the edge of the property. He continued another half mile until they reached a river, and then set her down on one of the large rocks on the bank. He cupped his hands in the water, offering some to her, but she shook her head, feeling beaten and vulnerable. She couldn’t even begin to describe the source of the intensity. It was entirely irrational. It wasn’t a kiss. It didn’t mean anything. She pushed her cloak aside and laid flat on the boulder so she could reach into the water with her own hands. The icy water felt like oil searing against her burning flesh, and she shuddered involuntarily. “You okay?” “Why did you do that?” she asked, unaccustomed to the sound of weakness in her own voice. She rested her body wearily on the rock, soaking in the coolness of the stone. “To keep you from hollerin’.” “What?” “You wanted me to cover your mouth.” ‘Not with your lips!’ her thoughts cried. “I wanted you to put me down.” “‘Nara, you can’t walk and I ain’t leavin’ ya.” “Mal, I’m fine.” “You got a gimped knee, your feet are all blistered from them fancy shoes, and you’re sweatin’ even though it’s half way to freezin’ out here.” Inara ran the cool river water over her exposed arms, feeling as though it would boil off while she watched. She was feeling feverish. “I can make it back to the ship.” “In three days time. ‘Nara, I can’t wait that long. Why you so riled up anyhow? Figure in your line of work, you kiss a lot of men.” Inara looked at him so quickly her head spun, her heart whispering so quietly, the vocalization barely registered. “But not you.” How dare he be so presumptuous as to steal a kiss? How dare he assume! Why would he take what she hadn’t offered? Was he really no different than her clients? She searched Mal’s face trying to meet his eye, but he wasn’t looking at her any longer. He was stretching his muscles and getting ready to carry her again.

*~*

“You had to interfere with my work, didn’t you?” she berated. “Now I’ve lost a client and you’ve lost a shuttle –” “Hey, you were the one interfering in my work, crashing a meet. You came to me.” “I’m deducting this expense from my next rent payment.” “Jian ta de gui.” “These are completely unacceptable working conditions and they’ve led to an injury that will prevent me from keeping my next two appointments.” “Can’t keep you from lying on your back!” The sting was apparent on Inara’s face. “My work requires me to be in a number of social settings.” “You ain’t gettin’ compensation … and it was fallin’ off your own shoes that led to the injury. I ain’t liable for that.” “I did not fall off my own shoes.” “No, you’re a creature of extraordinary grace,” he mocked. “Is that why I’m totin’ you around?” “Put me down and I’ll walk.” “How many times are we gonna go through this argument, ‘Nara?” “Until you let me walk!”

*~*

Mal’s arms ached, his back hurt, his feet were sore, and Inara had finally fallen asleep. Much as he appreciated the quiet, he was all manner of concerned for the woman. He could feel the feverish heat radiating from her skin and the last two times he’d stopped for water, she barely stayed conscious long enough to swallow. Clearly she’d done more than hurt her knee. Setting down riverside again, he checked the splint, making sure the bracing branches weren’t rubbing her skin too raw. Her knee was swollen. In fact, her ankle was swelling too and those tight shoes were turning her toes purple. Carefully, Mal freed her feet and cleaned them with the spring water, rubbing warmth and blood back into them. There were matching bruises where the strap went across the tops of her feet. “Mal,” she croaked. Awake! Mal quickly cupped water in his hands and brought it to her thirsty lips. The first gulp, she choked and gagged as the water lubricated her dried tongue. The second drink she was able to hold in her mouth and savor a moment before swallowing easily. “Oh, sweet Buddha,” she murmured. “Where…” “We’re headed back to Serenity,” he answered, soaking a glove and pressing it to her forehead, then offering her another drink. Inara tried to sit up and immediately dry heaved, having little more than water in her system to lose. Mal rubbed her back soothingly, and she leaned into him. “Mal, I don’t think I can walk.” Though his point had finally gotten across to her, Mal did not feel victorious. The way she said it, sent his heart racing and his concern doubled. Did she think she was waking in the cave? Did she even remember that? Was this some kind of brain fever? Keeping his voice as smooth as possible, Mal answered, “I know, ‘Nara. I’ll carry you.” “You shouldn’t have to do that.” “I’m offering. Is that okay?” “That’s… thank you.” “You’re welcome.” They rested by the riverbanks for the next few minutes, and Mal did his best to cool her with the water. But he’d followed the river as far as he could go. This was the last stop before the ship and he worried. Not only because she was sick, but because she might be contagious. He could already be infected and he could be bringing whatever sickness this was back to his crew. Can’t worry about that now, though. Can’t just die here. With one last drink of water, Mal bundled his coat around his bare chest and wrapped Inara’s cloak around her as tightly as it would go. Carefully, he lifted her, feeling her body mold against his. She was getting weaker by the moment. Too weak to argue with him. Too weak to battle the disease that had taken hold of her body. “Mal?” “Yeah, Inara.” “Don’t leave my shoes.” Mal couldn’t help but smile at those high-heeled, impractical shoes lying on the ground. Carefully, he threaded his fingers through the straps and they made their way – him, Inara, and the gorram shoes. Not much fight left in her, but this would do.

*~*

Mal wondered if the sweat that overtook him was from dehydration, carrying Inara, or the sickness she had. Either way, he was near staggering and needed a rest. Serenity couldn’t be far now. “Mal!” Jayne hollered, appearing at the edge of the tree line. Startled to the point of nearly dropping Inara, Mal suddenly had a great appreciation for the merc’s ability to stalk their enemies. When Mal’s grip on her shifted, Inara stirred, her eyes roving dazed through the environment. “Don’t let him take me,” she whispered to Mal as Jayne ran toward them. “‘Nara, I’m tired.” She leaned her head against his shoulder with a resigned sigh. “Fine.” No fight. Mal’s heart quickened. “We been lookin’ for you all day,” Jayne informed, coming up on them. “Found the shuttle.” “Can’t salvage it?” “Even if we wanted,” Jayne shrugged. “Alliance found it. She sleepin’?” “Hurt,” Mal answered, squatting awkwardly so he could still hold onto Inara while accepting a canteen from Jayne. “How far out are we?” “Not five miles. You want I should carry her?” Inara’s pallid face rested softly on his shoulder like a porcelain angel. Her lips were dry, her hair oily from feverish sweat. “No, I got her. Go back to the ship; tell Simon to set up a quarantine in Shuttle 1 for us. Then come back on the mule, meet us on the way.” Jayne nodded, leaving Mal with the canteen and a few rations before running back to the ship. Jayne rarely questioned orders on the field, and for that, Mal was grateful. Man was useful. Mal stayed knelt a moment, resting and breaking into the protein ration. When Inara stirred again, her lips brushed against his cheek in a soft kiss. “Thank you.” Mal smirked, scooping her up again, and starting to walk. “I’m just glad you wrung the water out of your dress.”

*~*

Mal laid Inara on her bed and nearly collapsed next to her. He wanted nothing more than a hot shower, a square meal, and a full night’s rest, but Simon wasn’t letting him leave the shuttle. Made sense as they had no idea what plague Inara had taken on. For a moment, Mal just laid on the bed next to Inara, his arm pinned by the weight of her body. Simon wore a mask over his face and worked efficiently administering bandages, removing the leg brace Mal had made, and drawing blood from the both of them for testing. He wanted to cut Inara out of her dress and get her into something warm and dry, but Mal stopped him. Can’t cut that dress off her. Gathering the last remnants of his strength, he smoothed Inara’s hair, righted himself, then placed her silly shoes on the pillow next to her. Ignoring the doctor’s questions, he peeled off his own muddy clothes and fell asleep on the soft red couch, letting the scent of her envelop his weary body. He dreamed of Inara’s shoes, and how the rouge on her lips matched the ribbon that tied around her ankle.

*~*

The next sensation he had was the doctor sticking a needle in his arm. Someone had washed the crusted mud from his body and covered him with a warm blanket. Mal groaned and turned his head, then immediately regretted it as his sore neck muscles howled. “Am I sick?” Mal asked groggily, reaching a hand up to massage his aching neck. “Just dehydrated,” Simon answered. “I wasn’t sure when you’d wake.” Through the fuzziness that was the world, Mal felt Simon’s hands on his neck and shoulders kneading away the knots of pain he’d gathered after carrying Inara so many miles. Doc was talented with his hands. Kaylee would be jealous. “Inara?” he asked, requesting the status report from the doctor. “Mal?” Inara’s voice startled both Mal and Simon and as refreshing as it was to hear, Mal was disappointed because Simon stopped his massage to attend to her. Propping himself up on his elbows so he could see, Mal fought away the sparkling lights that danced in his eyes threatening his consciousness. They had dressed her in a simple nightgown. The color had returned to her skin and her face was smooth and clean. No doubt River had snuck in while they were sleeping to brush Inara’s hair and paint her face. River, having been stripped of dignity in the past, seemed to understand and protect Inara’s need to always have her face on, even when she was sick. “Where’s my dress?” Inara asked them, ignoring the doctor’s questions and picking up the shoes that were still by her pillow. “Layin’ flat.” Mal motioned to a table on the side where the dress was spread out to dry. He figured she’d yell at him if they hung it, and was pleased when she gave a nod of approval. Inara turned her attention to polishing the mud off her shoes with the corner of the bed sheet. “How are you feeling?” “My knee still hurts.” Simon nodded. “You tore a ligament. I didn’t want to perform surgery until the infection cleared. I have you on broad spectrum antibiotics. It should only be a few more days.” “Was I? Am I contagious?” “You’re not contagious. It’s a bacterial infection. The hill folk call it ‘Yu Ni Fever’. I saw a lot of it when River and I were kidnapped here. You probably contracted it through one of the sores on your foot.” “Damn strappy shoes,” Mal teased her, a glint in his eye. Suddenly one of Inara’s shoes was flying at him and he barely had time to bring his hands up to deflect it. The second one he didn’t see at all and it caught him in the chest causing him to wheeze through his laughter. “I told you those shoes’ll kill ya!”

*~*