A.N. By request of PhyreLight and using the plot bunny from TamSibling, a continuation of the “Sneaking Into…” series coming just after "Not Today".

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“Of course not, I love you.” Mal’s eyes locked on hers as soon as she said it, knowing in the lilt of her voice that it was real. No teasing. No forcing. No nothing. It just welled up and overflowed right out of her heart. And he wanted to hear her say it again and again. “You love me?” “I love you.” Such surety. Such peace. Would he have received this blessing if they’d made love when she asked just ten minutes ago? Would he stop himself if she asked again? He didn’t care to be philosophical now. Not with the showering of love pouring out of her. “Say it again,” he smiled. “You first.” “I love you, ‘Nara.” “I love you too, Mal.” “Mmmmm,” he groaned, purred, and laughed in a single sound, feeling his chest vibrate against hers as she leaned in, closing her lips around his. “Tell me again,” she whispered. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Inara grinned and giggled, sliding underneath Mal as he kissed her long and deep, not parting until they were both gasping for air. Her fingers kneaded the pillowcase, and he knew she was holding back from touching him. Holding back from ripping his shirt open and sending the buttons flying. He let his weight fall on her, just to free his hands, but it resulted in a sensuous moan as she molded to him. Freeing her fingers from the pillowcase, he guided her hands up until she raked across his shoulders, her lips locked on his. He could feel her heart pounding, they were pressed so tightly together. Did he have too much weight on her? Mal lifted off, checking to see if she could breathe okay, and was rewarded with a swift push that toppled him to the floor. Devilishly, Inara rolled flat on her stomach, resting her chin on the backs of her hands, raising a mocking eyebrow at him for his klutziness. Humpty Dumpty was pushed … by a woman! “Ok, Mr. I’m-On-Watch-Tonight. Talk to me.” “What?” he laughed, sitting up, still a little stunned by the fall. This relationship definitely needed a bigger bed! “You said you’d tell me one of your stories if I told you one of mine. I do not accept alternate forms of payment, no matter how… gratifying.” “No?” he asked, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt teasingly. She raised a critical eyebrow, but didn’t stop him. He tried the second button and she shook her head in mock disapproval. Mal looked at his fingers on the third button, and decided not to force the moment. Besides, the last story had resulted in her saying ‘I love you.’ There were blessings yet to be had on this road. He scooted to the side of the bed, sitting on his knees so he’d be at just the right height to kiss her where she lay. Just a brief meeting of lips, and a gaze into those beaming eyes. “Chicken or beef?” “Shen me?” “You want a story with chicken or beef?” Her confused look made him laugh; he loved the way her lips pressed together when she looked that way. There noses were inches apart, but they’d fallen deep into each others eyes. “Chicken?” Mal took her hands from under her chin, guiding her to sit, then pulling her into his arms as he sat sideways on the bed, his back against the wall. Their eyes never broke contact during the entire dance and he delighted in the confused anticipation swimming on her face. Mal smiled, knowingly, taking himself back to the night in question. He’d thought when they started talking about childhood, it would be something deep, but she’d opened with a story of burning marshmallows. He could match fire with fire. If only he could remember that chicken’s name… “We got word the circus was in town, which was a rare thing on Shadow,” he pointed out as he began. “S’why it’s called Shadow. Always in the shadow of great things. If you wanted to see anything interestin’ that weren’t cow tippin’, you had to leave world. But years of petition finally brought the circus to town, and by the time they got there, it was too expensive for most anyone to go, so they never came back. Politics and economics –” “Mal, where’s my chicken?” she interrupted, silencing his rant before he could blame their circus woes on the Alliance. Mal laughed, reminding himself that the Alliance didn’t really exist back then. At least not in the same way. Inara fingered the second button hole on his shirt, distracting him from both the Alliance and the story, but when he didn’t speak for a moment, she poked him in the chest. “Oh, right. So one of the foremen on my momma’s ranch had a son about my age. We decided we’d make our own brand of circus just for ourselves. Took turns bein’ ring master an’ all that. He broke his arm tryin’ to walk a tight-rope, and we gave up on the acrobatics after that. But anyway –” “No, wait. I want to hear more about the acrobatics.” “One story at a time, ‘Nara. You said you wanted to hear about the chicken.” She laughed and his hand fell on her cheek, capturing the mirth and storing it in his own heart. “We had this pet chicken named Baily. We kept her around even though she was completely sterile – never laid an egg in her life. Jadiv got it through his head that we’d send this chicken through the ring of fire.” “Oh, this can’t be good,” Inara moaned in fearful empathy for the chicken. Mal reveled in the way her body shivered against his and squeezed her in a gentle hug. “It was a well thought out plan,” Mal assured her. “More than most I come up with.” “But since when do things ever go according to plan?” she ribbed lightly. “I said more thought out; I didn’t say better. We set up a long ramp in the back yard and an old hoola-hoop, and trained Baily to run along the path by leavin’ food on the other side. We even set up a little see-saw and a gauntlet.” Mal flapped his hands a little to demonstrate, but mostly kept his arms wrapped around Inara. She was watching his face intently and he stole a quick kiss before he continued. “Heh. What that poor bird wouldn’t do for a scrap of food.” “How long did all this take?” “Not more ‘n a week. We had a rigorous trainin’ schedule and since it weren’t calving season, there wasn’t much to do beyond your basic chores.” “And your mother?” “She said as long as we weren’t breakin’ no bones, she didn’t care.” “I imagine she amended that later.” “Very heavily,” Mal nodded. “The day of our great circus came. We waited ‘til nightfall, so we could get the full effect of the fire. And the Jadiv starts hosin’ down the hoop with lighter fluid. ‘Course we were eleven and neither of us were payin’ attention to the fact that Baily was hangin’ out waitin’ for scraps and she was gettin’ a bit doused as well.” “Oh,” Inara whimpered, squirming with anticipation. “The hoop ignites, whoosh! And I singed a fair bit of hair off my arms, but we weren’t stopped by it. Jadiv caught Baily and took her to the end of the ramp. He lets go and the poor bird tears off the ramp, not interested in the least at goin’ through a flamin’ hoop to get any amount of food. So there we go, chasin’ after this chicken. Finally, I catch her and throw her right through the hoop.” Inara’s hand came to cover her mouth in a mixture of horror and laughter. “She’s flappin’ crazy and tips the hoop, ignitin’ the grass, so me and Jadiv make a mad dash for the house to get the hose and some buckets, not even noticing that Baily is fully on fire now and tearin’ loose. I was stompin’ out the last of the grass fire when I notice this flamin’ chicken about to run into the barn.” “Oh, no!” “Oh, yes. I start hollerin’ to Jadiv to find a blanket because neither of us are equipped to tackle a flamin’ chicken. The cows are goin’ nuts and my momma starts shoutin’ bloody murder. When I got to the barn, Baily was runnin’ mad circles in the dirt just inside and then finally she just fell over dead…” “So no fire in the barn?” “Not ‘til a bit of flame jumped off the chicken onto the hay.” “Ohhh,” Inara moaned, as Mal wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Lost half a day’s feed. And my momma started donatin’ to the local fire department pretty regular after that.” Mal shook his head again, wondering how long it’d been since he’d looked back on this triumph of his childhood. If it was a triumph. He squirmed against Inara, remembering the rest. “Let me tell you, forty ranch hands makes for a fair amount of whooping.” “And Baily?” “Mighty tasty… what was left of her. Poor bird. Didn’t even capture half of it on vid.” “Half? You have video of this?” “Only up to the part where the hoop fell over.” “You have it here?” He didn’t expect her to look so interested. “Why? You wanna see it?” “Absolutely.” Mal scooted off his bed, then turned back to look at Inara. She had scooted to the edge of the bed too, her feet touching the floor, her back straight in perfect posture. She was about to stand up and follow him to the drawer, perhaps to peer inside at what else he was hiding in there. He held up a hand to stop her. “Close your eyes,” he said, his voice low and tantalizing. “What?” “I don’t want you to know where I hide all this stuff.” She closed her eyes, biting her lip in anticipation. And she loved him. He knew because she’d said it out loud. He made a show of banging a few drawers and cabinets in different places around her room, watching to see if she peaked, but she never did. She just sat there with that eager smile on her face, waiting for him. Mal retrieved the old capture, rattled a few more doors for good measure, then returned to the bed. Still, she waited. He rested his hands on the mattress by her hips, and her smile widened, but her eyes remained closed. He leaned in until he felt the heat of her breath, and he closed his eyes too, basking in her presence. “I love you, ‘Nara.” “I love you too, Mal,” she answered, her voice bubbling with pleasure. He crossed that last breath of space between them, falling against her lips. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, moaning happily. Her tongue fluttered and purred against his, shooting shivers and fire simultaneously through his body. Mal pulled back, breathing hard, the top of his head falling against her chest. She kissed his hair and held him as though she wanted nothing else. Breathe. Breathe. He waited for the heat of the moment to pass before moving again, then sat on the bed, holding the capture at arm’s length so they could both see. Inara stopped him before he could hit play. She hooked her arm in his, her eyes searching to connect, but he didn’t look at her. “Mal, talk to me,” she pleaded softly. He kept his head bowed, suppressing the fear that came with the hesitation. He’d built so many walls to protect himself. They both had. And the walls were coming down brick-by-brick, day-by-day. Sometimes in large sections, but most times slowly. Uncertainly. Ready to be thrown back into place should he find hurt on the other side. Mal shook his head, his heart begging her, “Not today.” She captured his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers. Tender concern, firm love. Safety. Freedom. Home. “Yes, today,” she insisted softly. “Today, my love, before you spend one more second in fear.” My love! His mouth flapped, overwhelmed. No wall could protect him from her! By virtue of their love alone, she walked right through. And he couldn’t help the word playing like a broken record through his mind. Unworthy. Shakily, he took her hand from his chin, kissed her palm, and pushed it back against her own body. Then, without a word, he left.

*~* * Cherished and Chosen * Post-A.N. It must be said that this chicken story was told to me by someone else. And while he shared it in first person, there’s no telling whose memory it actually is… In other news, if you can see where this story is going, please share your ideas. Your comments have been great help and inspiration.