The docks were depressingly empty as Inara slowly made her way to where the passenger shuttle sat, waiting to take her back to her life. Sounds of merriment trailed after her, music, laughter and warm light spilling from the hall she’d left behind.

It hurt to look back.

She quickened her pace, even now feeling the pull of that world, urging her to return. All the more reason to leave now, tonight, she knew. Otherwise—

“Inara.”

Oh no. Her breath caught, her feet stumbling to a stop. Traitors. She closed her eyes, willing him to just let her go, knowing he never would. She sighed. “Must we always do this Mal?” she asked wearily, turning to face him.

“’You really just gonna leave?” he retorted angrily, stepping into her space.

“What else am I supposed to do?” she hissed through clenched teeth, refusing to back away.

“Stay,” he whispered, the anger leaving him in a desperate plea, his hand searching out hers entreatingly.

She felt her chest grow tight. Oh no. “Mal…” She pulled her hand away and shook her head in hopeless exasperation, turning for the shuttle.

“Inara!” He caught her wrist, pulling her back to him, his eyes imploring. “You asked me once why I didn’t stop you. Seems to me that meant you wanted me to.”

“That was a long time ago. Mal,” she said beseechingly. “It’s too late for the might-have-beens.”

“Ain’t interested in what might have been,” he said stubbornly, his hand squeezing hers. “‘s what still could be that matters. Back then I weren’t brave enough to stop you from goin’, an’ you weren’t brave enough to stay. But now I’m here, an’ so are you.”

“Mal—“

“You don’t wanna get married, we don’t get married. That ain’t what’s important. But I love you, Inara,” he said with absolute conviction. “An’ I know you love me. That’s all that matters. We make the rest work.”

“But it never works, Mal,” she said, despairing. “Every time, we end up right back here.”

Mal nodded. “An’ we probably will again. But that’s okay. It’s okay, Inara,” he said fervently. “An’ when you leave again, I’ll let you go. Until the next time. An’ then we’ll do it all over again. An’ we’ll do it all over again the time after that. An’ the time after that, an’ the time after that, for as long as we can. Because that’s what matters. You an’ me, an’ takin’ every scrap of happiness we can in this ‘verse, for however much time we can take it.”

She searched for an argument, for the words to refute what he was saying; her eyes closed in defeat.

He stepped closer. “You know I’m right,” he said, breath hot on her ear sending shivers down her spine, just like always.

“It’s crazy,” she whispered, protesting weakly.

“Conjure it is,” he agreed and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Buddha help me, she thought, shaking her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this aga—“

Her words were silenced by the press of his lips.