Title: To All a Good Night Author: Shealynn Spoilers: reference to “Out of Gas” and “Safe,” but no spoilers. Takes place at holiday time…at some point. Disclaimer: no characters belong to me, glory be and the Joss be praised, thanks for lettin’ me play. Email: shealynn88@hotmail.com (Please feedback!!)

“You all want to what?” Mal demanded irritably as he and his first mate struggled through the holiday crowd at the famed Eglantine bazaar. The rest of the crew straggled behind them, checking out the holiday wares with their recent payday fresh in their minds. It seemed to Mal that the holiday had only gotten more garish as Christmas and the Chinese New Year had merged. Red was the predominant color all around him, and there were more nativities and statuary than he ever remembered from his youth. He scowled at the thought.

“Sir,” Zoe explained calmly, “Inara has an assignation, so we’re stuck here anyway. What’s a little celebration for the crew, anyway?”

Mal hated it when she was logical. “It’s just…Gorramn it, Zoe, how much of this do I have to take?”

“None of it, sir. We were thinking of staying planet-side. You don’t have to join us, though you’re welcome to.”

“Ha,” the captain scoffed. “Why would I want to celebrate a centuries dead child, an old man with clothing worse than mine, and a billion unnamed gods who never did me no good?”

“Sir,” Zoe chided. “You can’t stop the crew from keepin’ the holiday. They worked hard for the credits they’ve got, and they’re gonna want to spend ‘em, especially now. You really want to coop them all up when all they want is to be out celebratin’?”

“Now wait just a gorramn minute! I didn’t stop Kaylee from decorating Serenity with those ridiculous red tinsel-y things, now did I? And when she wanted to put up those blinkin’ lights around her door? I didn’t complain, though they give me a guay of a headache! I ain’t said a gorramn thing to any of you about—Kaylee you put that down right now!” Mal pointed accusingly over Zoe’s shoulder at the mechanic, who put down the Kitchen God effigy with a guilty start.

Zoe raised her eyebrows and cocked her head at him accusingly. “Yes, sir. You’ve been very generous with your holiday spirit.”

“Tzao-gao! What do you want, Zoe? Permission? Go ahead. Have fun! Drink shiong mao niao til you puke! Just keep your merry-makin’ away from me!”

“Of course. Thank you, sir,” Zoe said, composed as always. “The crew will be glad to hear of your gracious agreement.”

Mal settled for a glare, knowing that anything he said would be turned against him. Further conversation was stalled by Wash, who called from across the bazaar. “Bao bay!” the pilot shouted across the throng of holiday shoppers, beckoning to Zoe and Mal.

“I hope he ain’t talkin’ to me,” Mal muttered.

Zoe shot him a dirty look. “I don’t think so, sir.” She started wading through the masses toward her husband, and for lack of anything better to do, Mal followed.

“You called?” Mal asked before Zoe could say anything.

Wash threw some greenery from the table at the Captain. “I’m consulting with my wife,” Wash clarified. “What is this lan xi?” he asked, picking up another sprig of the greenery and examining it.

Mal glanced at the branch that Wash had thrown--little green leaves interspersed with white berries. Well, at least there was no red. All the red gave him a headache, this time of year. Defiantly, Mal stuck the branch in his shirt pocket. There, let Zoe say he wasn’t festive! “I’m headin’ back to Serenity,” he told the two gruffly. “You all have fun, and be careful. Even on this ass-backward planet there’s Alliance. Don’t let Jayne get hisself hung…or let River get herself burnt. Or Book... Is he with you or do I get to enjoy the pleasure of his holier-than-thou ass onboard?”

Zoe chuckled. “I believe he has an all night engagement,” she said.

Mal raised an eyebrow. “Don’t that sound promising!”

Zoe rolled her eyes at his suggestive tone. “He’s holding a vigil at one of the churches. You’ll be on your own, Cap’n.”

Mal nodded sharply, suddenly unsure of how to take his leave. “Good. Good.” It occurred to him that he’d better get going before Kaylee caught up with them. She was the only one of them that was any danger to him. Her childish charm might actually convince him that celebratin’ wasn’t all bad. And that could only lead to all round misery. He wasn’t exactly fit for company at the moment. “I’ll be on my way then,” he finished, turning abruptly on his heel.

No, this was definitely not his best time of year. Old superstitions died hard, and his had died especially brutally, along with a large number of comrades. No, he was definitely better off without the superstition. Now all he needed to be content was full pockets and a slice of freedom he called Serenity.

* * *

Mal leaned back in the pilot’s chair and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since he’d been able to enjoy this side of Serenity. The quiet side, when the only sounds were the steady hum of her core systems and occasional static on the com. The last time he’d been with her like this, he’d been worried about the gunshot in his side and failing life support. Hadn’t exactly been able to spend quality time. But tonight, it was just the two of them…and a whole lot of red tinsel.

“Been a long time,” he murmured, stroking the control panel absently. “Hope you don’t mind all the craziness been goin’ on. Not the thing for any self-respectin’ smugglin’ vessel, have all this tinsel all over.” Mal glanced around, grateful that here, at least, the decoration has been minimized, so as not to gum up the works. Even so, he had to brush off shiny bits from the viewing screen. “I guess you don’t look half bad in it, though. We all have to get pretty sometime.” He laughed. “Well, all but me. Guess bein’ Cap’n comes with some privileges.” Mal patted the console and got up. “Gonna be a good night, just you and me. A little peace and quiet. Worth havin’, least for a while. Suppose it’d get boring if it lasted too long, huh?”

He turned to head to his bunk when the com came to life with a burst of static. “Serenity, this is Inara. Permission to dock.”

Mal shook his head. Inara wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow, at the earliest! He was suddenly irritated. Zoe’s whole argument had hinged on Inara’s assignation. Now, there was no good reason not be in the air, ‘cept for their ridiculous insistence on celebratin’ a holiday that had never done any of ‘em any good.

Finally, Mal retraced his steps and sat down. “Inara, it’s Mal. You’re a go.”

“Mal?” Inara’s puzzled expression faded in and out on the old viewer.

“Needn’t look so concerned, ambassador, I was guiding that shuttle in while Wash was still on Bog, doin’ dish duty,” Mal said, suddenly on the defensive. How was it that she always brought that out in him?

Inara’s mouth thinned in annoyance, and Mal couldn’t help but smile a little bit. She seemed to bring that out in him, too. “Ready when you are, Captain,” she said tersely.

He grinned and flipped the switches that would ready Serenity to receive the shuttle.

“Thank you,” Inara said, and Mal could see that her shuttle was beginning decent. He had to admire her ability. Firefly shuttles weren’t exactly famous for their maneuverability, but Inara handled her’s with a sure and gentle hand. Mal barely noticed the grinding of the landing gear as Inara landed. In a few moments, the shuttle settled into Serenity’s side and was automatically guided into dock.

He made his way through the ship to Inara's door, wondering what brought her back so soon. Sure that she would be curious about the crew, he waited outside her door. Any opportunity to needle the Companion was worthwhile in his book. He tried not to examine the desire too closely. Ever.

Mal perched himself on the railing next to her door and waited nonchalantly. After a few moments Inara walked through, trailing white gauze like an ephemeral holiday sprite. Her black hair trailed over the edges of her low-cut dress, adding to the look…and of course she had that infernal way of drifting along, like her feet never touched the floor. Mal hated that.

“So,” he asked, “what brings you back so early?” He leaned casually back on the railing, and raised an eyebrow. “Did your...ah...friend get a better offer? Hate for you to be the only one without credits on this boat.”

Inara favored him with a poisonous smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I’ll get you your rent on time.” She looked around. “What happened to the rest of the crew? You didn’t let them get away for a little merry-making did you?”

Mal narrowed his eyes and stood up. “How’d you know that?”

Inara laughed, her eyes glittering. “You don’t suppose it’s a coincidence that I took an assignation here, do you?”

Mal was speechless. “You—“ he stuttered, eyes wide. “You—and Zoe—conspired…”

Inara laughed again. “It wasn’t quite like that.” Mal watched as she struggled to control her laughter. “Oh, don’t be angry, Mal,” she said, reaching out to touch his hand. “It doesn’t hurt for them to have a little fun. Just because you choose not to doesn’t mean—“

“I have fun! I’m nothin’ but fun! Why, just last week—“

Inara put a finger to his lips and he snapped his mouth shut, seething quietly. “’Me thinks thou dost protest too much,’” she quoted, lowering her hand. “Why don’t you come have some tea with me? I brewed more than I can possibly drink.” She looked up at him through long lashes and smiled that secretive smile of hers which always meant she was going to make fun of him. “I can guarantee it’s better than that fei-ou you call wine.” She turned and started back to the shuttle.

Mal stayed put. “So,” he called suspiciously, “what’d I do to rate? Didn’t get enough action from your man of mystery?”

Inara turned, and her expression was dark. “The offer is for tea, Captain. Consider it an outreach program for the socially inept.” She paused, and Mal mentally steeled himself for rejection. “The offer stands as long as you’re civil.” She turned abruptly and disappeared into the shuttle, white gauze trailing softly behind her.

“Guay,” Mal muttered under his breath. He stood still for a long moment. Finally, he took a deep breath and followed Inara into the shuttle.

He struggled through the layers of fabric draped over the door, finally getting to the sitting area by crouching awkwardly and sliding under it. “Ta ma duh! How does anyone even get this—“

Mal turned to see Inara raise a warning finger. “Civil,” she repeated. She was already seated, the tea poured in front of her. “Have a seat,” she said.

Awkwardly, Mal lowered himself onto one of the silk pillows. He thought briefly of the filth that he was likely to get on the pillow, and then dismissed it. She’d invited him here, right? Who in their right mind would sit on silk pillows, anyhow? He grimaced at the thought and picked up the small cup of tea. “Don’t s’pose you have any brandy?” he asked, more to irritate her than anything.

Inara smiled. “Actually, I do. Though you might want to try the tea without it, first.”

Mal took a sip as Inara rose smoothly and retrieved a bottle from an antique cupboard in the corner. “There you are,” she said, setting the bottle on the table and sinking into place to his left. The tea was actually amazingly good. It was hot and clean, with a crisp flavor he’d never encountered before. He poured the brandy into it on principle. No way he’d let a Companion dictate how he drank! The alcohol changed the flavor, making it slightly unpleasant, but he was satisfied he’d made his point.

Inara smiled and took a sip of her own tea. “Kaylee did a lovely job,” she murmured, setting her cup down. “The red is very festive, don’t you think?”

Mal grimaced. “I thought we were bein’ civil.”

Inara laughed. “I’m sorry. I was simply making conversation. I found it very tasteful and understated.”

Mal widened his eyes in disbelief. “Understated? My ship looks like a tsao-gao holiday card! It’s like…like Jayne decorating that gun of his! No point to it. Any self-respectin’ smuggler’d laugh himself silly, lookin’ at all this tinsel! Serenity just shouldn’t be subjected to it—against nature, I tell you! The liou coe shai du biao—“

He stopped suddenly as he noticed Inara’s progression from quiet giggle to all out hilarity, all at his expense. She was currently holding up her hand in a silent plea to stop, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, reining herself in with apparent difficulty. “I’m sorry Mal…” She took a few deep breaths before looking at him with a controlled smile. “So, I’m guessing you’re not feeling especially celebratory this year?” she asked micheviously.

Mal glared at her. “Not true!” He felt in his pocket for the branch Wash had thrown at him earlier, and drew it out with a flourish. “See? See that! I have this…this…” He pointed at the branch and nodded with finality at it. “This to prove it.”

Inara laughed. “You don’t even know what it is,” she said.

“Course I do!” Mal protested. “It’s a…a festive piece of…of greenery.”

Inara smiled. “It’s mistletoe,” she explained. “I have some hanging over there,” she pointed over her shoulder, “and up there,” she said pointing up over his head. “Do you know what it’s for?” she asked, that secretive smile on her face.

Mal looked at her closely, his eyes narrowing in speculation. “I s’pose you’ll tell me.”

She smiled. “I’ll show you.” She leaned toward him and he leaned back suspiciously.

She laughed. “Don’t be such a baby, Mal. Come here.”

He leaned forward slowly, suspiciously. Still smiling, Inara leaned toward him and brushed her lips gently across his cheek, lingering briefly at the corner of his mouth. A warm tingle spread through Mal’s body, a warmth that had little to do with the warmth of her lips and a lot to do with the warmth of the rest of her. Inara laughed softly as she leaned back and Mal tried desperately to look as if he was taking it all in stride. Inara nodded at the mistletoe over his head. “They make kissing balls out of it. It’s an old western tradition, that anyone underneath the mistletoe gets kissed.”

“I’ll move,” he said, proud that his voice was steady and sarcastic.

“Don’t worry, Mal,” Inara said, shaking her head and pouring more tea. “You’re limited to one per plant.” She looked up at him again, mischief in her eye. “Unless, of course, you move and then return to that spot.” Mal froze, and she laughed again as she rose smoothly. “Stay there,” she warned teasingly, moving out of his line of sight into the cockpit.

Mal was just considering going after her when she returned with a small box wrapped in green paper. “You may not want to admit it, but it is the holiday season. Merry Christmas.”

Mal stared at the box for a long moment. Then he looked up at Inara. Then back at the box. He hadn’t gotten anyone anything. He’d been too busy being miserable, he hadn’t spared a thought for presents. After looking at the wrapping again he tried to hand it back. “I thank you kindly for the thought, Inara, but I don’t think—“

“Oh, don’t be an idiot. Just say ‘thank you’ and open it.”

Mal shrugged and began opening the gift, his emotions mixed. On the one hand, he was touched, which he heartily hated to admit, even to himself. And that was where the irritation came in. Infernal woman. Obviously she was tryin’ to make him feel guilty. He was the Captain, for cryin’ out loud! If anyone should be givin’ presents, it should be him. Damned inconsiderate, really, her buying gifts. Damned pushy, too.

He shook his head, determined not to like what she’d given him. The box was small, and beautiful. Not likely to be anything he’d like, wrapped like that. He was more practical than that. A job. Gun oil. Those were useful things, and neither of them likely to be in this box.

Finally, Mal lifted the lid, a fake smile pasted on his face in preparation. But when he finally saw the contents, his expression suddenly went shuttered, carefully blank. The small pendant was nestled in a pad of cotton, but the workmanship was of unmistakable quality, perfectly worked into a likeness of an insect. It’s black wings were spread, shining even in the dim light of the shuttle. Metal was worked in an amazing pattern over the abdomen, delicate as strands of moonlight, easily embodying both the insect and the ship that took it’s name: Firefly. Overall, it was no more than five centimeters in length, and Mal noted the thin white leather strung through the eye at the top, making it ready to wear.

“Turn it over,” Inara said softly.

Mal hated to touch it, it was so perfect, but he did as she asked. On the back was a two work inscription. “Serenity Found.” Mal took a deep breath, keeping himself composed. There was no way he could take it. It was far too delicate for him to wear or think of keeping. Anyhow, what kind of man would he be, wearing jewelry? No, it was really out of the question, even if some small part of him protested. “I’m sorry, Inara, I really can’t take it,” he said, handing it back to her carefully. “Not really suited to me, y’know? I’m more of a…gun oil kind of guy. Pretties are just wasted on me.”

Inara took it back hesitantly and finally nodded. “No, you’re right. It’s really not your sort of thing, is it?”

Mal breathed a silent sigh of relief. Debt avoided. He thought again of the perfect representation, the inscription on the back, and then shook it off. What on earth would he do with a piece of frippery like that? Better off on Kaylee, maybe. He was sure Inara could find something to do with it.

He watched as Inara placed it back in it’s box. “Perhaps Jayne could use it,” she said, cocking her head at Mal.

His stomach plummeted at the thought of his ship, or any representation of it, going to a man whose loyalties shifted like sand. A man to whom sentiment was something reserved for guns and credits. Mal sighed, backed into a corner. “Yeah, I’m sure that would—“

“Of course, I already got him a gift, so it wouldn’t exactly be fair, now, would it?” Inara looked at him intensely. “And after all, it’s not like you have to wear it. Or even keep it. I mean, it would probably bring you a few credits, and then you could get what you really wanted. Gun oil, or whatever.”

Mal nodded. “Yeah, I could use some gun oil. Never such a thing as too little gun oil.” She handed to box back to him, and their fingers touched for a brief moment as he took it.

Inara smiled, a real, full smile, and Mal couldn’t help but return it as he took his leave. “I thank you for the thought,” he said, getting up. “I really better get back to the cockpit. Never set the com to broadcast. Who knows what trouble the crew could be gettin’ into.”

Inara nodded. “Of course. Sleep well, Mal. Merry Christmas.”

For once, his face didn’t drop at the sound of the holiday greeting. “You, too,” he muttered, ducking under the cloth in front of the door before he could mangle his goodbye too badly.

He went to the cockpit first, setting the com to alert him in his bunk. He walked slowly, pushing his door inward with one foot and absently descending into the tiny room, still holding the tiny box. Sitting on his bed, he opened it again, pulling the pendant out and twirling it in the dim light. Spinning like that, it looked just like Serenity, taking off. The reflections from the metal shone on the whitewashed walls of the little room, spinning around him like clones of the insect he held. It didn’t really fit him, did it? But who else would understand the inscription on the back? Who else could appreciate the comparison of ship to insect, like captain to sergeant, freedom to ubiquity? With a shrug, Mal pulled the leather line over his head, letting the insect fall onto his chest, just above his heart. It had been a long time since anything had rested there. A long time since superstition had gotten the best of him. It seemed fitting, though, that Serenity was there now. After a long moment, Mal tucked the pendant into his shirt. There would be plenty of opportunities to sell the thing for a few credits. In the mean time, it was probably safest on his person. Never know who might be creeping around the bunks. Yeah, for the moment, it was certainly best just to keep it on. And if it felt comfortable, felt right, resting there…well, it was only temporary, right?

Right?