A.N. Yes it's more Mal/Inara fluff, because who needs Chilean beaches when you can write fanfic? Blame Spacegirl32 who begged for more… I have about three others coming.

---

The bed next to Inara went cold, drawing her out of the deep sleep she’d been enjoying. She sighed and rolled over to the empty, still-warm half of the bed where Mal had slept next to her for the first time. He was already up, sitting on the red couch, pulling on his boots, but she expected no less. This was Mal after all. This was them. There was a serious bit of history and animosity between them that couldn’t be erased just because they spent a night in the same bed. She stretched contentedly under the covers, earning an apologetic smile from Mal. Why apologetic? “What time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn out of proprietary habit, but wanting to sleep again. She hadn’t slept properly since before the Operative had shown up at the Training House. “Near midday,” he answered matter-of-factly, pulling his suspenders over his shoulders. “And I have lunch duty.” Inara smiled, and then frowned, the implications of the previous night washing over her. The nothing that had happened between them very rapidly became everything. Her fears were being realized. Serenity suddenly felt like a prison to her. Love held her captive. He would expect her to stay now. When the others saw him leaving her shuttle, they all would assume and expect her to stay. What else would he expect? Would he expect her to give up her profession? He’d always despised her work. She’d always despised his. Would he make equal sacrifice for her? How, then, would Serenity survive? She had no delusions – it was the illegal work that kept her beloved home in repair. “Don’t be scared,” Mal soothed, sitting on the bed, his hand cradling her face. Inara looked at him with anxious eyes, vying to control her breathing. When had it become so ragged? “I’m not afraid,” she insisted, sitting up and turning away from him. The pewter knight sat on the end table, mocking her – a symbol of Mal’s heroic attempts to save her from herself. But he was the prison. His hand was on her shoulder, then rubbing her back as her mind whirred faster than Serenity’s engine in hard burn. Nothing had happened. No demands were being made. He was just slipping out to make lunch. And hopefully change his shirt, because it was now three days old. Inara stood and cinched her robe shut, crossing her hands protectively over her chest, staring at the floor to think. It was too hard to think with him touching her that way. With him touching her any way. She crossed the curtain to the shuttle’s cockpit, her fingers ghosting over the controls, wanting to fly away. He said he had to make lunch. Why wasn’t he gone yet? “‘Nara,” Mal called after her gently, and she could hear the desperation in his voice. Was he concerned or was he as confused as she was? “You should go make lunch.” His hand was touching her fingers, his eyes searching hers. Where was the freedom she’d found in them just a few hours ago? “I should,” he agreed slowly, his hand on hers loosening. “I – I ain’t slept that well in a long time, ‘Nara.” Her chin dropped, suddenly wanting him to keep holding her hand. She squeezed his fingers before they fell out of reach and he headed for the door. “Next time your place?” she asked softly. Who was this strange, timid girl who kept emerging and calling out to him in that way? Was that the real her? Did she really need rescuing? Mal looked back with a small smile that neither agreed nor disagreed with her suggestion. “It’s your decision, ‘Nara. My door is always open to you.” She watched him go and couldn’t help but believe his answer meant something deeper than her question had asked. Just before he broke eye contact, she saw that small, distant glimmer of freedom she needed. It was still her decision, whether she stayed or left. It was just ten times harder now. Of all places to be a prisoner, Mal’s arms were not entirely objectionable. Still, she didn’t want to be a slave to anyone. They filled the afternoon with quiet conversation. Mal and Zoë bustled around talking their way through the next job. Jayne made coarse comments to Simon about Kaylee, stirring animosity. River stayed on the bridge, occasionally broadcasting teasing remarks over the P.A. when she got bored. Mal used to chastise her for that, but she was still a girl, and a rebellious one at that. Inara considered looking for clients, but they were only making a quick drop on the next world and then a run for the black, so she didn’t know where to start. Or if she should start? That evening, Inara found Mal in the cockpit, babysitting the controls, thumbing through a chart of the system, though only absently seeking answers to whatever question had prompted him to pull out the maps in the first place. Tentatively, she lingered by the door, not sure if she wanted to be noticed or not. “Don’t be scared,” he said to the room at large, but clearly addressing her. His eyes were still on his work. “Why do you keep saying that?” Mal dropped his feet from the console and turned to face her, his face serious. “Because I don’t want you to leave again.” Inara averted her eyes quickly, but stayed leaning against the door frame. She was not trapped. She could leave this room whenever she wanted. She could – Mal was beside her in an instant, both hands on her face, bringing her eyes to meet his. Captive in his eyes. Slave. “I ain’t forcing you to stay, ‘Nara. That’s your choice. But I’m askin’ you this time, please don’t leave. I will do whatever it takes. If I have to, I’ll sell –” “No,” she interrupted suddenly. Unexpectedly. Praying that sentence didn’t end with the word ‘Serenity.’ Somehow the image of Mal without Serenity seemed more condemnation than any prison she could contrive. So long as he was here, on this boat, there was a place in the ‘verse where she could escape and be free. If he left to chase after her – the thought trapped her into a decision more so than anything else. “Don’t be –” “I’m not afraid!” she insisted angrily, pushing his hands away. He let her go, but his voice followed her down the hall. “Don’t be afraid to love me.” Inara didn’t turn back. She was too confused. She was half way down the hall before she heard his heavy boot steps on the stairs, charging after her. He didn’t slow down, hitting her with such force that he nearly tackled her to the ground. “Mal,” she cried, holding onto him rather than trying to steady herself on the walls. Why was she holding him? Why was she clinging to him? And were those his tears falling on her shoulder? “Don’t make me tie you to the bulkhead, ‘Nara. I will take you anywhere in the ‘verse you want to go, but I ain’t leavin’ you again.” “Mal, don’t cry,” she whispered, peeling his arms off her so that she could move to face him. It was difficult, considering his firm embrace, and he tightened his arms around her again as soon as she’d turned. She lifted her hands to cradle and kiss his face, hot with tears. His eyes were lost, pleading, and filled with fear, searching hers for assurance. He blinked and breathed heavily as she covered his face with consoling kisses, but every time he opened his eyes, the fear worsened. “Don’t be afraid,” she told him, pulling his cheek to touch hers, her lips just millimeters from his ear. “I’m not going anywhere.” For a moment, he froze against her, cheek-to-cheek, stilled with confusion and disbelief, but as the information processed, a relieved smile fell across his face and he pulled back to look at her; his blue eyes shone like the sun. There. In the way he looked at her, there was the freedom she craved. She could not be a prisoner to Mal, nor a slave. She was his freedom. His lips were suddenly pressed to hers and she closed her eyes, melting into him, feeling like she was flying – like she no longer needed Serenity to carry her away from any place, but that she could fly there on her own. Mal hugged her with relief and promise. Inara laughed as she shared in that relief. She had worried so much that this decision would make her weaker, but now that it was made, she had never felt stronger. This was love. Real love, as she had never known. And it had driven away all of her fear, all the anguish, all the uncertainty… most of the uncertainty. After a few moments, Mal’s arms relaxed and he fell to the simple posture of holding her hand, walking her through the ship, gazing upward as if they were on a boardwalk staring at the sky. Inara smiled, watching the joy on his face, letting him lead their amble through the hallways of Serenity. She tried to keep her mind from worrying about the future. They would take this one step at a time. She was free to change her mind any day, so today all she needed to worry about was today. Just today. Just… “Your head hurtin’?” Mal asked, leaning against the catwalk, pulling her close to examine the bruise she’d gotten the night before. Inara placed her hands on his wrist, keeping him from putting too much pressure on the wound, but not pushing him away. “No, I was just thinking.” “Thinking what?” he asked, taking her hand again as she leaned against the catwalk beside him, their shoulders touching. “Thinking…” she shrugged. “What now?” Mal looked at her thoughtfully, then turned and leaned his elbows against the railing of the catwalk, his gaze occasionally falling over to the door of her shuttle. “Nothing has to be decided today.” She bumped his shoulder, letting him know she knew he was thinking about the night before. His eyes met hers, then his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he stammered. “I just – I could use a good night’s rest again.” Inara smiled, laughing softly. “Still my decision?” Mal nodded. “Then you need to listen better,” she teased, causing Mal to raise his eyebrows in a mixture of confusion and surprise. “I said next time your place.”

*~*

More fluff to be had with Truth and Tight Spaces