Fics on a plane! Transcontinental flights are great for the muse! Part 5 of the Sneaking Into the Captain’s Bunk series. Start there and follow the links. This one comes after "Truth and Tight Spaces".

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Once the crew knew, their days became freer. The others would exchange significant glances, let loose a few snickers or smiles, and then leave Mal and Inara in peace most of the time. Even Jayne recognized the fragility of the pair, and kept his coarse musings to himself. Their relationship evolved slowly – the major differences being he’d stopped calling her whore, she’d stopped calling him petty, and occasionally they’d be caught holding hands at the dinner table or as they walked through the ship in the evening. Most evenings, he’d walk her to her shuttle, kiss her lightly on the cheek, and bid her good night. Only rarely did they spend the night together. He took her to worlds where she could work and watched her fly off to meet clients with less jealousy than anyone expected. It was always a soft, lingering kiss on the lips and a devilish grin telling her to have fun. She’d explained Guild rules on dating and he complied with every one. And he saved the pain – buried it until after she’d gone. And he made sure to work or weep it all away before she returned. When she returned, he waited for her to come to him, so she’d be refreshed, ready, and completely clean of their scent. She came to him faster each time, sometimes running into his arms. He was careful with her. Cautious. He’d promised to take her anywhere so long as she stayed. And he was not blind to the fact that her rent payment on the shuttle was their only income some months. Inara climbed into his bunk one night, seeking company. She’d just spent three days with a client on Beaumonde and the following two locked in her shuttle, recovering. Mal was sleeping, sprawled on his back, fully clothed – he was on call that night and needed to be ready. At first, she lingered by the door, watching the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling doubt. Their relationship had stalled and she feared it was because of her. Because she was floundering and uncertain and pushing him back, just like she’d always done. Why couldn’t she stop? She wanted more. Much more. And she didn’t know how to ask. “You gonna stand by the ladder all night or are you gonna come over here and kiss me?” Inara grinned sheepishly as Mal peaked one eye open, shooting her a sly smile. She sauntered to the bed, holding his gaze mischievously, then melted over him like hot chocolate on a strawberry. “I missed you,” she sighed, coaxing his lips open with her own. He groaned achingly, his tongue seeking hers, one leg coming up to wrap around her. “I missed you, too,” he said between kisses. “How was your thing?” “Forgotten,” she breathed, her lips traversing his face, then sucking on his ear. Mal purred in pleasure and grabbed her arm, rolling and scooting, tossing her onto the bed, then positioning himself on top. Inara laughed at the playful way he nipped across her collar bone and the way his stubble tickled her neck. He was carefully reined by the hem of her nightgown and she considered shrugging it off for him. But they’d only ever shared a few deep kisses. They’d only ever held hands. This was new and she was glad to let him lead. The entire time she’d spent with her last client, she’d wished it was Mal touching her, kissing her, making love to her. She’d had to fight not to say his name. And she only ever wanted his name on her lips from now on. She wanted… ai ya! “Oh, Mal,” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tight, overwhelmed with resolve. Her body shuddered and shook with revelation, and she clung to him. He wrapped one arm around her, pressing her body to his, using his other arm to keep from falling on her. As an effect, they were suspended just slightly above the bed sheets. Floating, but being pulled down. Inara arched against him and he rolled again, putting himself underneath so she could fall on top. She’d started sobbing uncontrollably and he rocked her back and forth with concern. “Hey, hey, hey,” he repeated soothingly, stroking her hair and rubbing her back. “It’s okay. We can stop.” Why was she crying? She was free! Wasn’t she? Images of her last client floated through her head, his touch decidedly not Mal’s. She was free of him! Free of anyone else! Forever… Inara wanted to tell Mal, but couldn’t get her breath and his face was clouded with worry that he’d done something horribly wrong. As the minutes passed, he sat up with her, hoping she’d breathe easier upright. Still they rocked and he cooed. “What is it, ‘Nara? Talk to me. Is it something I did? Was it your last client?” Inara shook her head, wondering why her new liberation had turned her bones to jelly. “You hurt? Are you hurting?” She shook her head again, her chest feeling ready to collapse. “Well ya look like a frightened little rabbit.” Inara choked on a sob and her eyes snapping to meet his, startled. In a heartbeat, he’d pegged the feeling that plagued her. He’d read it right off her face, and the overwhelming emotion started to make sense to her. All her life, Inara had wanted to be a Companion. Every move, every breath, every ounce of her being had focused on that goal. ‘Companion’ wasn’t just a title or a job. It was who she was. And now she was giving that up. She was lost. She was nothing. And she was terrified. Her cries stilled as she identified, named, and compartmentalized the fear. Mal still had his arms wrapped around her and was whispering in her ear. He cradled her while she stared vacantly ahead, feeling as empty as the air before her. Feeling lost. Completely lost. Inara had abandoned herself and had chosen to do it for this man whose arms were wrapped around her. He was the only anchor left. Mal stood briefly, filling a mug with water from the sink and finding a handkerchief for her. Then he returned to her side, placing his hand on her knee as she composed herself. She hadn’t wanted him to see her break. She hadn’t wanted to break at all. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered. It had become their mantra over the past few months, whenever one of them would withdraw. It had come to mean ‘talk to me’, ‘you’re safe here’, and any of a dozen other assurances and consolations. Perhaps now that she was out of work, she could earn money stitching the phrase onto pillows. “I am afraid,” Inara confessed, squeezing his hand, the heat of her tears radiating away in the empty space between them. “Tell me why.” It was a question and an invitation wrapped into a promise of comfort. His hand was on her arm, rubbing lightly, ready to take hold of her should she break down again. She looked deeply into his eyes, hoping for one last bit of assurance. She dared not speak the decision to truth, get his hopes up, and then take it away from him. It took a moment to find her voice, let alone connect it to words. “I can’t rent the shuttle anymore.” “What? ‘Nara, why?” he asked quickly, scooting closer to her. As close as he could. His eyes flooded with fear, thinking she was leaving, desperately seeking forgiveness if the blame lay with him. This was the wrong place to start, but her words had disappeared again. It was her turn to cradle his face and assuage his concern. “No, Mal… I mean… I don’t think…” There was doubt and uncertainty creeping in. This would never be good news (or news at all) if she couldn’t say it. “I don’t want to take clients anymore.” “Oh.” Short. Clipped. The fear drained quickly from his face, but it wasn’t replaced with joy or relief like she’d hoped. Just a dumb-founded, glazed look, mirroring her own empty sense of being lost. His hand froze, forgetting to move. “Mal, say something.” He stammered a bit, his eyes seeking focus. “You sure about this?” “I –” Why wasn’t he happy? She thought he’d be happy! “I don’t know.” “Okay,” he nodded quietly, pulling her into a one-armed hug, resting his chin on the top of her head. “That’s a good reason to get scared.” Inara smiled meekly at his attempt to be understanding. “It is.” “You never talked about any life but being a Companion.” She shrugged, but only half so, because her other half was pressed hard against his chest. “I feel like a part of me has died.” “Let’s hope it’s not the good part,” he quipped, not feeling nearly as light-hearted as his words sounded. They let the comment fade into the silence, as he brooded over her words. “You don’t have to say forever, you know. Just ‘not today.’” “Not today,” she repeated, gaining strength from the lack of finality it had. She pressed against him gently and they slowly reclined on the bed, her lying on his chest, taking in the steady rise and fall of his breathing. Inara relaxed, her freedom returning. Her longing surfacing. “You sure you want this?” he asked again, afraid to believe it. Afraid to trust it. She couldn’t blame him for that. “I want more. I want so much more,” she said honestly. They were breathing as one now, their words having the steady rhythm of a song. “What do you want?” “I want you to hold me.” “I am.” “I want you to love me.” “I do.” “I want you to kiss me.” “Um… I don’t think so.” Inara started at the impish break of their rhythm. She opened her eyes to look at his face, all smiles and teasing. “Last time I kissed you, you broke down in tears and said you were giving up your livelihood.” “Try again,” she urged breathily, leaning until their noses touched. Her lips met his only lightly before pulling away again and he chased her tease, his head rising from the pillow. “What might happen if I do?” Inara dragged her body against his, kissing an arc across his brow as she answered. “I might succeed in my original intent in coming here.” “Oh? And what is that?” He was interested. He was hopeful. He was toying with her. “I might make love to you.” Mal groaned achingly as her hands ran up his thighs, but a moment later, he squirmed and pulled her away. “Darlin’, I can’t get naked tonight. I’m on watch.” He was laughing at her. Chiding her. Pretending they’d made love a dozen times already this week. Or was he stalling? Although he held her hands aloft, Inara didn’t stop kissing him right through his maroon shirt, urging him to respond. He continued talking, if only to distract himself. “Now that you don’t wanna pay rent anymore, I’ll have to give you chores like everyone else. As part of this, you’ll know the rules for night watch. I need to be clothed and ready to spring into action at the first alarm. Can’t be scrounging for shoes and the like.” “And where are your shoes?” she moaned, biting his shoulders. Mal stuttered, looking at his unshod feet. He dropped her hands, tugging at her hair, pulling her lips up to meet his in one final kiss. “Not today,” he told her firmly, pulling her hands away from the buttons on his shirt. She gasped desperately. “Mal.” “‘Nara, no.” “Mal.” “‘Nara, I ain’t ready for this!” Inara stopped suddenly, surprised by Mal’s words. He’d blurted it out so suddenly, even he looked startled by the revelation. Serenity pulsed through the tense moment as the two just froze there on his bed. Finally, Inara shifted sideways so that she wasn’t laying fully on him. Mal’s eyes turned away from her, ashamed by the confession, his cheeks flushed. She’d forgotten their dance. Fallen into the pace of a Companion. But there was no clock on their time together. No more clocks. Not today. In spite of her prior lust and momentary disappointment, Inara felt laughter bubbling through her and a small smile spilled across her lips. She always thought she’d been holding back their physical relationship. That she had been too deliberate and standoffish. But he had needed the slow pace as much as she had. Having found herself floundering in uncharted territory, she was glad to know she had company. “You laughin’ at me?” His pride was hurt, but she couldn’t contain herself. The giggles broke the surface and she batted him happily. “I’m laughing at us. We’re just … a perfect match.” His eyes darted uncertainly, afraid to be mocked. Afraid to disappoint. She could plainly see and feel the truth of his desire for her, and the twitch of his fingers as he struggled with whether sex between them was such a big deal. Neither of them had delusions of virginity. But he wanted it to mean something. And so did she. He was upset by his own hesitance, and she didn’t know if she could touch him just yet. “I don’t want to jump the gun with you, ‘Nara.” “All you had to do was tell me,” she soothed, her hand wiping shame from his cheeks. Just ten minutes ago, he’d been consoling her. How strange this journey seemed. He searched her eyes and must have caught the glimmer of relief and understanding she felt at him stopping her, because he relaxed too. “Do you mind if I stay the night?” Mal shrugged, forcing an anemic smile. “Mayhaps I’ll sleep too well to keep watch effectively.” “Then stay awake and talk to me,” she invited, wriggling herself into the narrow sliver of bed left open to her before she fell off. She stayed propped on one elbow, so that she could gaze at his face, tracing the lines of it. “What about? I told you all my stories. Any you want to hear again?” “You haven’t told me about the days before the war. When you were a boy, growing up.” “No, I haven’t,” he agreed, but seemed to close the subject in the same line. But she persisted. One didn’t need to remove clothing to cross uncharted territory in their relationship. “Will you?” Mal sighed, his eyes wandering briefly to the past. He looked at Inara with a regretful, resigned breath and answered, “Only if you tell me about your life before you wanted to be a Companion.” Inara inhaled sharply, chiding herself for not expecting the tables turned so quickly. “I don’t really remember that time.” “Make somethin’ up.” Inara closed her eyes, picturing herself as a little girl, trying to remember a time when ‘Companion’ wasn’t the first thought of her day. She laughed softly and felt the mirth resonate in Mal. “I once set fire to a plateful of marshmallows.” “You what?” “I was five. I wasn’t supposed to be using the oven.” “You did not.” “I got in so much trouble,” Inara laughed, remembering her mother’s scolding. “You’re makin’ this up so I won’t put you on the cooking rotation,” Mal countered, disbelieving. “It won’t work.” “I wouldn’t lie to you, Mal,” she giggled, kissing his eyelids, pinching his cheeks. “Wouldn’t you?” There was no fear left in her as she shared the memory. There was no desperation, no obligation. And before she could think about it – before she could stop herself – the words rolled right off her tongue. “Of course not. I love you.”

*~* * * Post-A.N.: Here ends my Chile-trip travel fic. If you’re dying for more M/I, leave happy comments with semi-specific requests and/or check out my other BSR items. This story will eventually flow semi-naturally into “Only You”, which is an R-rated look at the progression of their physical relationship… And now by your requests, the story continues with Fires and Fears