Word Count: 5128 words, give or take a few. Spoilers: Set during the series, post Trash, but pre Heart of Gold. Characters/Pairings: Mal/Inara/Saffron. Yes, that's what I said ;o) Rating: PG-13 to R for this part, NC-17 overall Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor am I affiliated with Mutant Enemy, Fox, Universal or anyone else related to the Firefly 'verse. I just like to play with 'em. Author's Note: Written for noneofyours who has been crazy patient and deserves much better from me :o( So, here's a few thousand words, *still* not getting into the nitty gritty of what you asked for, but working up to it. I had to try and make it as plausible as possible, I’m sorry! It's still complete crack, so maybe I should have just gone all out cracky and saved us both some time, but, this is what you're getting ;o) And, no, Part 3 isn't ready yet, I'm still writing it, but I WILL finish it for you, darlin'. I promise! Special thanks to anjulie who has always been there to listen to my whinge and moan when I couldn't write, and to homespun who *totally* can't wait for me to finish this story ;o)

Go back and read Part 1

Title: A Laser, A Journal, and A Man: Part 2/3 Author: 2x2

The brilliant rays of Greenleaf's morning star filled the shuttle's cockpit as it rose over the horizon of the planet below, the bright light rousing Inara from her restless sleep in the pilot's chair. She sat up slowly, blinking as awareness brought with it the knowledge that the time had come to prepare for the meeting with Saffron. It had been a long time since Inara had approached a day with such a feeling of trepidation and dread and she was reluctant to move from the sheltered cocoon of the cockpit. Though she chided herself for her behaviour, she pulled her feet up onto the chair, wrapping her arms around her legs, her chin coming to rest on her knees as she stared out at the planet and its rising sun unhappily, mind in turmoil.

Sooner or later, she knew, she was going to have to get up and face the fact Mal was going to have sex with Saffron; for her.

She honestly hadn't thought he would consider doing it, but she should have known his stubborn sense of misguided nobility would compel him to compromise his principles for her. She'd spent the night trying to rationalize it to herself, trying to wrestle her emotions into submission. She took Clients all the time; a service for a fee. This was no different… except it was completely different. This was Mal, and Saffron; Mal and Saffron taking to bed together. This was Mal making a sacrifice for her benefit (she didn't want to contemplate the idea that he might not be opposed to sleeping with his errant wife). And the true crux of the matter, not that she wanted to admit it: this was Mal sleeping with someone else. Someone not her.

Inara swiped at her hair in frustrated annoyance. It shouldn't matter, she told herself. She had no claim on him, no right to feel anything like what she refused to admit was jealousy. Nor should she want to.

Yet the more she thought about it, the more her stomach churned and the more agitated she became, plagued by images of Mal and Saffron her traitorous imagination insisted on playing through her mind. And in all of them were Saffron's mocking eyes, following her, taunting and smug.

She stood and paced in irritation. She shouldn't let him do this; she didn't want to let him do it. She could try and pretend that it was the fault of the dreams, but she knew it was much more complicated than that. It always was when Mal was concerned. And the sad thing was, he wasn't the one who couldn't handle it.

If he did this… She didn't know if she'd ever be able to repay such a debt. She didn't know if anything would be the same for them ever again…

"Gāisǐ!" Mal cursed and rubbed the back of his head where a slight bump was forming after his sudden collision with a low, overhanging control panel in Serenity's shuttle two. He sank into the pilot's chair, closing his eyes wearily. That was the third time he'd banged his head into something since he'd awoken early that morning, and a dull throb had taken up residence right at the base of his skull, annoying and persistent.

He sighed and opened his eyes to stare out into the great expanse of the Black. He knew Greenleaf was out there on their starboard side; and down on the planet's surface…

He had to be crazy to be doin' this.

'Can do it, he told himself. She needs your help, an' you know you ain't gonna let nothin' hurt her. Even if it meant… well, it was down right distasteful. He considered just letting Inara take the Lassiter again, but somehow the idea rankled his pride even more than the idea of sleeping with Saffron did. He always had been a stubborn hun dan, he had to admit it. Got him into trouble more often than not, too. Didn't change that Inara needed his help, or that he wasn't givin' up the Lassiter less he absolutely had to – might be easier, but experience had taught him the easy thing weren't necessarily always the best thing. An' if he could do this for her… surely he'd done crazier things in the war? Put his well-bein' at more risk, certainly, but there was something about… well, the whole thing didn't sit well, even if there was a part of him liked the idea of being someone Inara needed.

Didn't make much difference anyway; he was committed now.

He heard the hatch slide open and knew instantly by the light scent of perfume that always preceded her that it was Inara.

"Mal?" he heard her call out tentatively.

He straightened up in the pilot's seat, clearing his throat. "You ready?" he called over his shoulder. He paused and turned when she didn't answer right away, brows raised curiously.

She walked into the cockpit slowly, drawing in a deep breath as though to calm her nerves, struggling with whatever it was she seemed to want to say.

"Inara—?"

"I don't want you to go," she blurted finally, avoiding his eyes, her voice raw and strangled.

He blinked twice, astonished. "Wha'?! Inara—"

"This whole thing is ridiculous!" she said, aggravated.

Mal sighed and shook his head. "Ain't so ridiculous as you don't need that journal," he said matter-of-factly.

She huffed. "Mal, I—I can't let you—I don't want you to do this," she said tensely.

She didn't want him to go… She was givin' him an out, yet somehow… somehow that only strengthened his resolve and made him all the more determined to go through with it. He would do this for her; he wouldn't sit back and let Saffron get away with her little scheme. Truth be told, he was more than a little irked that his pseudo 'wife' had gone after Inara; she should'a come after him an' left his crew – or them what was close enough – alone. He shook his head. The real truth was he never should'a let Inara get involved in that job…

"Can't say I'm happy about the prospect my own self," he admitted at last. "She's more liable to stick me with something than I am her." He gave her a wan grin. "Still, conjure it's a damn sight better'n handin' over the Lassiter," he said, putting up a brave front as he went back to checking the controls. "Leastways, the crew don't need to know about it."

Inara caught his arm, ceasing his movements; she didn't much care about the crew finding out anymore. "Mal…" she started, trying to force out the words she couldn't say. She shook her head. "You can't trust her. I can pay you back for the Lassiter. Please," she said desperately. "Not this way…"

Mal stared at her, perplexed by the anxiety he could hear in her voice; almost enough to make him wonder… He shook his head, more at himself this time than at her. "Not even you've got that kind of coin, Inara."

"Qiǎnzé, Mal, it's useless to you!" she cried in exasperation. "Why can't you see that?"

"Might be," he agreed, surprising her. "But Saffron wants it, and that's reason enough in my book not to let her have it."

She let her hand fall, astounded. "You're doing this to be stubborn?"

He glared at her, growing frustrated. "I'm doin' this to help you! You said you need that journal. I ain't handin' over the Lassiter. You got a better plan, let's hear it." He waited as she fumed silently, then gave her a sharp nod before turning back to the console. "Didn't think so."

"This isn't one of your jobs, Mal. I'm not some damsel in distress that needs rescuing!"

''Then what do you want me to do?" he asked in exasperation, throwing up his hands and standing to face her. "'You want me to kill her?" he pressed on, leaning over her, bringing his face dangerously close to hers. "Is that what you're askin'? 'Cause I don't see no other alternatives!"

"No!" she exclaimed, pulling away from him, aghast; though she couldn't deny the thought had crossed her mind that if Mal had put an end to Saffron after their first encounter, she wouldn’t be in this situation now. But still… She shook her head. "Of course not."

He eased back, calming slightly. "Then what?" he demanded.

She sighed in defeat, having no other answer she was willing to give, and pressed her fingers to her forehead tiredly, having to resign herself that he was going to go through with it. "At least bring the Lassiter with us, as a back-up plan… She's bound to try and double cross us, you have to know that," she tried, hoping that if they brought the laser she might get a chance to make him change his mind, somehow.

"She'll try," he said, crossing his arms.

Inara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she struggled to remain calm. Réncí de Fózŭ, he still thought he could outsmart the woman. "Mal, don't be foolish. She has all the advantage here; there's no telling what she might do once she has you—"

Mal shook his head. "She ain't like to kill me. Had plenty of opportunity for that before, don't see why she'd go to extremes now."

"She's dangerous," she persisted.

"She is that," he agreed. He met her gaze, as though weighing her words, then motioned to the back of the shuttle with his head. "'s in the back, in one of the stash holes," he said.

Inara stared at him, mouth agape. "You already—bù lǎoshi nánrén! You could have just told me that!"

"Ain't that what I did just?"

"Damn it, Mal…" She sighed in frustration. "Do you have to make everything so difficult—"

"Well, let's make it less so," he interrupted, equally as frustrated. "How's about you just strap in an' we try not talking for the next hour?"

"And what is that supposed to accomplish?"

"Conjure there'll be less arguin'."

"Fine."

"Good."

"Great!"

They glared at each other a moment and then Inara stalked over to the copilot's seat and buckled herself in, arms crossing as she stared out into the vastness ahead of them.

Yúchŭn, gùzhí son of a mule, she fumed at him mutely. It didn't matter how dangerous, irrational, unreasonable or outright stupid Mal's plans could be, once he'd latched onto an idea, getting him to change his mind was like asking the tides to change direction.

They remained silent as they detached from Serenity and sailed down toward the swirling ball of green and blue that was Greenleaf, neither of them willing to break the angry silence that hung between them.

Mal guided the shuttle through the planet's atmosphere, fighting the controls for a tense few moments as they hit some turbulence and the small craft rocked violently. Inara threw him a disparaging look that he chose to ignore as he struggled to smooth out their flight, directing a slightly smug smile her way as the ship leveled off and calmed under his hands. Inara merely rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, and he turned back to flying with a scowl.

The woman always managed to push his buttons, he reflected, trying to remember why it was he was sticking his neck out and doing this for her in the first place. But then he forced the thought away, well aware that contemplating that sort of idea would have him skimming a little too close to the truth for his own comfort and that he was better off just sticking to the plan.

The chime of an incoming wave interrupted the silence of the cockpit suddenly, the sound startling them both out of their thoughts, and they met each other's eyes, frozen for a heartbeat.

Inara moved first, scrambling to get to the vid screen before Mal.

"Inara—"

"Get out of the way!"

"S' my shuttle, Inara! Gorramit—!"

"Damn it, Mal, I don't want her to know you're here yet!" she argued, pushing him out of the way. He opened his mouth to speak and she shot him a silencing look as she accepted the wave, schooling her features into a perfect mask of composure as Saffron's face filled the screen.

''Land on platform two, and remember, no tricks," Saffron said curtly, and then the wave went dead.

"You don't think she might consider my comin' along a trick?" Mal asked irascibly, folding his arms.

''Just let me do the talking when we land," Inara retorted.

Mal grunted in reply but didn't say anything and she sighed heavily.

"Mal—"

"Let's just get this done," he said brusquely.

"Fine," she snapped, pushing past him to sit again. "Just keep in mind that this wasn't my plan."

"Don't worry, I got a plan," he growled back, directing the shuttle to the platform Saffron had indicated.

They sat for a moment once they'd touched down, fuming, staring ahead, neither of them speaking. Finally, Mal sighed and turned to face Inara, knowing she wasn't the one he was really angry with.

"Inara—" he started, but she was up and out of her seat before he could finish, the note of apology in his voice not registering as she stalked out of the shuttle without waiting to see if he followed.

Outside, the platform led to a large, three-story building that was obviously a brothel – though somewhat more upscale than the type of establishment that Jayne would frequent, Inara mused – and she headed inside, heedless of who might be watching. She felt a growing certainty that any scandal her association with such an establishment might cause was sure to be eclipsed by the uproar that the information in the journal would arouse when it came out - which it almost undoubtedly would. She didn't let herself think about what might happen, focusing instead on the coming confrontation, quite certain that it was not going to be easy.

The main room was an obvious greeting area, surprisingly tasteful in its décor, maintaining a fine balance of feng shui and aesthetic appeal that Inara hadn't expected. The woman was nothing if not surprising, she reminded herself, grudgingly accepting the fact that, whatever else she might think about her, Saffron had more than earned her cautious respect. She was damned good at playing The Game, better than anyone Inara had ever come up against before. They were lucky to have gotten the better of her last time. And now, with Mal in the mix… Inara wasn't sure she would be able to outsmart the woman this time.

Mal half considered returning to Serenity, a part of him wanting to be as dismissive of Inara as she had been of him, but even as the thought occurred to him, he was already following her out of the shuttle. Whatever their issues, he wouldn't leave her stranded here with Saffron. Hell, he wouldn't even leave Simon here, had he the chance. Jayne… maybe, but he wouldn't want to take the chance that Saffron might actually kill the big mercenary just to save herself the hassle of dealing with him. Heaven knew he'd wanted to do it himself a time or two.

Shaking his head, Mal pushed the thoughts from his mind and hurried after the Companion. He'd had enough of this already; he'd just have to make Saffron give him the Journal. She was too confident, and that was her weakness. She didn't know he was coming – he conceded that it was a smart idea to keep that information quiet – so she wasn’t going to expect him to come in, guns blazing so to speak. He'd catch her off guard, keep her in his sights, and get the gorramned journal and then get them back to Serenity without giving up the Lassiter - or anything else.

Pleased with the way her plan was unfolding and fully confident in her advantage, Saffron lounged on her settee with a casual ease, affecting an air of bored indifference as Inara entered the room, though she was almost bouncing inside in anticipation of the coming game. The Companion was an imposing woman, she had to admit, and though the last time they had met Inara had come out on top with an unexpected victory, this time Saffron held all the cards – she even had an ace or two up her sleeve – and she took great pleasure to have the other woman at her mercy. Revenge was very sweet.

Inara glared back at her, obviously struggling to reign in her anger in a way that Saffron found startling. She'd anticipated a much calmer, cool-headed Inara to come in, full of her smug Companion superiority; the fact that she hadn't had a tingle of warning nagging in the back of Saffron's head, and she narrowed her eyes, not failing to notice that the other woman had come in decidedly empty-handed.

"You seem to have forgotten something," she said pointedly. "If you've come here thinking you can negotiate, think again—" she started, blinking a moment later as she saw Mal follow the Companion into the room and her heart literally skipped a beat in surprised glee. "Well, well, well," she clucked, raising her eyebrow in delighted amusement.

"The plan changed," Inara said, slightly exasperated.

"So I see," she replied dryly. "I take it the Lassiter is no longer the only item up for offer? I have to admit, I'm surprised you told him. Less surprised he agreed though," she said with a smirk.

Inara opened her mouth to speak, but she was cut off as Mal thundered past her.

"Of all the fēngkuáng cons you've tried to pull, Saffron, you've got to be out of your gorram mind you think this is gonna happen," he said, drawing his pistol in one smooth motion, jaw set and eyes storming - leaving Inara to stare after him in surprised annoyance.

This was his plan?

"Where's the journal?" he growled.

Saffron rolled her eyes. "Put it away, Mal," she said. Mal cocked the hammer back and Saffron's gaze narrowed. "Do you see that?" she said, indicating the hand held wave communicator that sat on the end table beside her with a nod. "If I don't call in at the specified time, that little document and everything it contains will be spread publicly all over the 'verse in a matter of nanoseconds." She gave Mal a look. "People who'll do for each other, wasn't that what you said, sweetie? 'Guess I learned my lesson," she said, mockingly.

"Mal." Inara put her hand on his arm, urging him to lower his gun, trying to calm him before he shot forward and strangled the other woman. She met his glare with her own until he dropped his gaze, slamming his pistol back into his holster angrily.

Saffron watched them closely, smirking as she read their body language and gained an almost instantaneous gist of what must have happened to change their plans. Neither of them was happy with the situation, which, as far as she was concerned, was perfect.

"So," she said, standing slowly, circling Mal with an appraising eye. "Come back to finish what we started on our 'wedding night', hubby?" She ran a finger along his bicep teasingly, eyeing him up and down with an amused look. "And this time you get to be all noble and play the hero, too," she said with saccharine sweetness. "Your knight in shining armour," she added, eyes cutting to Inara's with a smirk.

"Well. First things first. Let's lose the gun belt, lover," she said, wrapping her arms around him from behind to unfasten the buckle before he even realized she was doing it, letting her hand skim the front of his pants wickedly. "Do you still want me to be gentle?" she whispered in his ear, laughing as he jerked away from her.

"Ah, ah, ah," she scolded. "You're going to have to give me a little more co-operation than that, sweetie; if you want this deal to go through."

Mal glared at her, chest heaving in barely contained anger. He couldn't do this; there weren't no way he could do this. His eyes sought out Inara's, holding an apology, but when he met her gaze, saw the look on her face… He closed his eyes with a resigned sigh. He knew he wasn't going to let her down. Just do the thing, he told himself. Do the thing, and then get 'paid'. That was what he did, wasn't it? There were worse things.

"Let's just get this done," he ground out.

"Ready when you are, hubby," Saffron replied, obviously amused by the situation.

Mal opened his eyes; Inara's were still on him, full of apology and gratitude and something else he couldn't identify. He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod and she answered with one of her own.

"I'll be in the shuttle," she said to him softly, hand reaching out to smooth over his forearm briefly as she passed.

"Oh, I don't think so," Saffron pre-empted, smirking, and Inara turned back with a questioning look.

"She ain't stayin' to watch," Mal ground out and Saffron laughed.

"Of course not," she said sweetly, her eyes flicking to Inara to watch the other woman's reaction. "She's going to join us."

"Shenme shi?" Mal sputtered incredulously.

Inara's face paled and she could have cursed herself for not seeing this possibility, but she maintained her calm, returning Saffron's look with her own cold gaze.

"No. That weren't part of the deal!" Mal protested, looking between the two women.

"I'm altering the deal," Saffron said, her eyes cutting to Mal hotly. "You changed the arrangement first, now I am."

"I said no! You can have the Lassiter! I ain't—"

"You 'ain't' in any position to refuse!" Saffron sneered. "And the Lassiter is no longer up for consideration."

Mal's hand shot forward, catching the fabric of her blouse in his fist to yank her closer, angrily.

Saffron's eyes widened a moment, but then her lips twisted in a mocking smile. "Go ahead, hubby, rough me up some," she said provocatively, her voice carrying a note of derision at the same time. "Just remember you'll be ruining her too! I don't make the call, and the journal goes public."

"All right," said Inara, cutting off any further protests from Mal. His eyes flew to hers incredulously and she pleaded with him silently to acquiesce, to know that she had no choice but to play Saffron's twisted game.

Naturally he refused.

"Are you insane?" he hissed, letting go of the other woman's blouse.

"Give us a moment," Inara snarled and Saffon's lips curled in a smirk as she consented with a nod. Inara grasped Mal's arm and with a glare that demanded compliance, she pulled him from the room.

The moment the door closed behind them, she whirled, furious with him, furious with the situation. "You had to stick your nose in; had to have it your way even though I didn't want you involved!" she hissed.

"I was tryin' to help you!" Mal defended hotly, face darkening.

"Ai ya, you should have just let me take the laser," she said angrily.

"Tamade, we been over this! Arguin' about it now ain't helpin' matters!" he growled. "Now'd you bring me in here to make a plan, or are we just gonna—"

"We're just going to have to do it," she said, resigned.

Mal grimaced and crossed his arms. "That wasn’t exactly the kinda plan I was hopin' on," he said.

"Well there aren't any other viable options!"

"'m startin' to think shootin' her might not be the worst," Mal grumbled.

Inara sighed, pressing her fingers to her forehead in what was becoming a familiar gesture. "You can't kill her," she said, as though explaining to a child. "She has to check in with her accomplice—"

"She's bluffing," he interrupted, derisive.

"There's no way to know that for sure!" she snapped impatiently. She shook her head. "Even if she were, you're not a murderer, Mal."

Mal let out a huff, his hands dropping to his hips as he looked away, knowing she was right; he wouldn't out and out kill her, tempting as it was. "You're serious about this…" he said, not really asking.

Inara sighed. "If you hadn't—"

Mal growled in frustration, throwing his hands up as he paced angrily. "Fine! It's my gorram fault!" he shouted angrily. "All right!? So what are we going to do about it?!"

"We're going to have sex, Mal!" she snapped at him irritably. "There isn't anything else to do about it!"

"Look," she said, holding up a hand to forestall any further comments. "I will do my best to make it as quick and painless as possible—"

"Quick and painless," he interrupted, shaking his head.

"But Saffron's probably going to try and make it unpleasant. Just… try to go with it, Mal," she pressed. "It will be easier for both of us, and that aì cāozòng rén de pōfù will get that much less satisfaction from it!" she spat vehemently.

Mal turned away, dropping his hands to his hips angrily. This was not what he'd agreed to. He should've known. Sleeping with Saffron was crazy enough, but Inara too… He may have dreamt of what it would be like to be with her, but not like this. Never like this.

"An' what if I just say no?" he asked quietly.

Inara stared at him, stricken, having not considered that he might refuse entirely, unsure of what she should say.

She was silent for so long that Mal finally turned back to her questioningly, feeling a twinge of remorse at the distressed look on her face.

She swallowed thickly. "That's your choice, of course," she said at last, then straightened, reigning in her emotion. "You probably should, really. Saffron's bound to try and double cross us anyway and…" Inara shook her head and sank down onto a chair, running her hands over her face wearily. ''Just forget it." Mal sighed roughly. "'m not gonna do that," he said, turning back to her, resigned.

"There's a chance nothing will come of the journal—"

"Inara—I'll do it," he said, knowing there really never was any question.

''No, Mal, it's all right. Maybe I can find some other way to minimize the damage, I don't know..."

"You know that ain't likely," Mal said, sighing. "I'll do it. We'll… do it," He turned away, unable to meet her eyes. "S' just… This ain't exactly how I—I didn't ever want…" He trailed off, growling in frustration, unable or unwilling to continue.

Inara was fairly certain she caught the gist of his meaning however, and she was no more willing or able to address it than he was. Instead, she followed the same reactive instinct she always did, and pushed him away.

"It's just business, Mal. Business," she said, hurrying to put that distance between them again, even though she knew the truth probably wouldn't be secret for much longer.

Mal stiffened. "Business?" he said flatly, turning to give her an unreadable look.

"It'll be easier to think of it that way, as just another job," she rushed out, wondering whom she was really trying to convince.

Mal scowled. "May be easier for you. This ain't my usual line of work," he said darkly, and truthfully she was grateful for the familiar annoyance that flared in her, grabbing onto it in relief.

"Don't start," she snapped back. "I'm just trying to help you--"

"Well don't," he barked, cutting her off. "Had about all the help I can take for one day," he grumbled, heading for the door. "'s just get this the hell over with."

"You are the most… shĭrén xīnfán… wángù……" she sputtered, fighting to contain her anger. But pointing out to him again that none of this would have been necessary if he'd just let her take the damned laser in the first place wasn't going to help either, she knew, so she bit back the words and forced herself to remember that this really wasn't easy for him, and that he didn't have to help her at all; he was doing her a favour…

"Look, I'm sorry," she said with a resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose again. "I know this isn't easy for you… and I… I am grateful…"

Mal stopped half way to the door, hands going to his hips as he exhaled sharply, his head bowed as he seemed to argue with himself. She watched him in confusion, on the verge of asking what he was doing when he straightened up abruptly, turning to face her again, and three strides later he was suddenly right in front of her, his hand sliding along her cheek, thumb brushing her lips in a touch more intimate than anything they had ever shared.

"Mal—?" she started, her brow furrowing as her eyes went wide, but he cut her off.

"You can hit me for this later," he said, and pulled her mouth to his swiftly, swallowing her gasp in a kiss.

Her first instinct was to draw back - kissing Mal was one of many rules she was never supposed to break – but in light of what was to come… She suddenly understood. He was kissing her because he wanted to do it, not because Saffron was manipulating them or forcing them to. He was kissing her because he wanted their first kiss - and let's be honest, she knew it was bound to happen some time (and that time Saffron had drugged him in his bunk didn't count) - to be a moment that wasn't about Saffron, or about business, or about lies. She understood.

She only wished she could kiss him back.

Inara pulled away slowly, gently, his name falling from her lips in soft admonishment though her heart wasn’t really in it; the last thing she wanted to do was hurt him.

Mal let her go, swallowing thickly as he stepped back, his eyes averted.

"Well," he said roughly with a self-mocking grin. "Best get back. We got that thing."

_______