And So It Begins 1/?

Author: GenesisZia

Rating: G

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my dreams. The rest belongs to Joss Whedon.

Spoilers: Series/BDM

Pairing/Characters: The usual suspects plus one or two of my own creation. Canon with heavy focus on Mal/Inara…eventually (does angst count?)

A.N. It’s roughly set 4 years Post BDM. I’m taking all sorts of liberties concerning certain individuals’ past and backstory. If there is some cannon I am blatantly ignoring or misappropriating, kindly let me know. I anticipate this being a behemoth when all is said in done (I foresee this multipart fic as the first part of a trilogy), so if you care to join me for this ride please hold on and give a holla when it so moves you.

All spelling/grammar issues are my own…..anyone offering their beata-ing services is welcomed.

Lastly this is my first foray into fanfic…any feedback is much appreciated.

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And so it began. A test of wills.

Since most of her life, since adolescence, Inara Serra has had the upper hand. All relationships have their dynamics, but in Inara’s case, all of hers have been decidedly tilted in her favor. She has had control over her life and, for the most extent, those in it. Some may think it is the power Inara is attracted to, but in truth, it is the fear of being dominated that provokes her; she knows better than most what losing the upper hand can mean. She must take a stand.

Inara stared down the petulant eyes across from her. Both subjects stood with lips thinned, left fist slightly clinched, and breathing slowed. Inara was slowly becoming so frazzled by the situation that she failed to notice this similar body language. Then it happened. One of their checks flushed and eyes went misty. Inara’s resolve faltered. For the first time in nearly 12 years, Inara found herself at a loss for a counterattack.

Taken aback, she took a breath. She quickly cleared her thoughts and her throat. With a firm sigh she realized she could still win this, that she would, she just had to keep it simple.

“You will put on this dress and that’s the end of it.”

“No!”

Okay try reasoning.

“You can’t wear your bathing suit boa bei, you’ll be uncomfortable.”

“I fine.”

Maybe flattery.

“But you look so sweet in your green dress.”

“Look sweet in blue,” the 2 year old said pointing to the little yellow flowers offset on her blue swimwear.

“Zola, do you want to go bye-bye?

“Yes.”

“Then you’re wearing this dress,” Inara finally concluded, picking it up. As she walked toward her, the little girl began making tentative steps back.

“No, Mama. I wear this.”

Buddha help her.

“You don’t tell Mama, No. Big girls don’t do that and this trip is only for big girls. I guess Zola can’t go bye-bye.”

The little chocolate-eyed girl stopped her retreat, her lips began to waver, tears already apparent.

“Mama, I big girl. I go bye-bye.”

“Zola, Mama asked you to do something. I’ve asked you for the past half hour. No, we’ll stay home today.”

“Mama…”

“No, now go get your play dress and sweater. You can help Mama clean house today.”

Now began the preamble to the tantrum. The low hum of a whine formed and the agitated jumping began to take full effect.

“Zola, stop that right now or I am going to start counting.”

“But I go bye-bye.” Zola's last attempt began.

“Yi, er …”

“I big girl, I wear green,” she negotiated trying to reach for the dress.

“San, si…”

“Not fair!”

“De le! Time out chair. Ci shi!”

And here was the screaming.

Inara grabed the irate child and the small, pale blue vanity chair. She placed both along the south wall of the little girl’s room.

“You will sit here until I come to get you. Then you will get dress and we will clean the pantry. Ling hui?.

Zola screaming stilled slightly and became a hiccupping hum as she recognized her mama’s tone. But being a Serra woman in training she would not concede that easily. So she answered her mother with silence, accompanied with a pout and stare that would be impressive in its tenacity if it was not used on the woman who coined it.

“Zora Lola Serra, xiang ying.”

“Bad Mama.”

All the books say to ignore, but the verse hasn’t met a mother yet who isn’t cut down every time her child proclaimed their dislike for them. Inara was no different.

“Little girl,” Inara began barely above a whisper as she crouched down to Zola’s eyelevel, “You will sit here until I come back.”

Quickly turning on her heels before she felt her resolve slip away, Inara exited the room only closing the door half way. As she walked briskly to the kitchen, she tried in vain to stop the migraine that was forming, trying to turn her thoughts to reorganizing her day since they no longer were taking a trip to the museum.

Maybe she could get a head start on reading through those scripts Dani couriered over, she thought as she grabbed a juice from the cooler. After absentmindedly guzzling down half of its contents, Inara took a breath and fliped on the intercom to Zola’s room. Crying and the sounds of designer toys hitting the walls could be heard.

“Merciful Buddha, I couldn’t have made a more stubborn child if I tried.”

Translations: bao bei- sweetheart

yi, er, san, si- One, two, three, four

de le- That’s enough

ci shi- Now

ling hui- understand

xiang ying- answer me