Life’s Too Short- Part Thirteen

Author’s Note: I’m making this one as un-depressing as possible, because there’s gonna be some bad times ahead for our beloved BDHs. Just hang in there, and see it through. ☺ Oh, and Inara’s bombshell DOES come into play, just not right now…

“So what you’re sayin’ is, you don’t think I can pass for a respectable gent?” Mal snapped his suspenders smartly at her, and Inara rolled her eyes. “No, what I’m saying is- well, yes, Mal, I think the only way you’d pass for respectable is if this party we’re going to was held by groundhogs.” “Whatahhas?” “Face it, Mal, you need new clothes.” They were standing in front of a small clothing store, having just landed the shuttle. Mal was planning on attending a party held by Hugh Walter and using the hour to convince him that he was not the same man who stole three kegs and ran. Inara still didn’t know exactly what Mal had done, and he had no intention of tellin’ her. Ever. Would ruin his standing as a ship’s captain and such if she knew he’d taken three huge kegs of the finest beer on Diogenes back in the day. Hell, Mal thought. Who was he kidding? WHAT standing? Naturally, as soon as Inara had told him (sort of) how she (maybe) felt, the shuttle had entered atmo and Inara had had to go land them safely. Would be just his luck to die just then, but they HAD landed safely, and the moment had been lost. Now, she was tryin’ to buy him clothes. Mal wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing- could mean she was gettin’ all domesticating and whatnot, which meant maybe she, well, or it could mean that she was annoyed at him for dragging that information out of her and was tryin’ to repay him by (Mal shuddered) new clothing. Inara wrapped a hand around the crook of his elbow and walked into the store, forcing him to follow if he didn’t want to fall over. Mal tried unsuccessfully to ease his arm away, wanting out of the dim lighting and incense that seemed to be wherever ‘Nara was. There was a Chinese woman of about forty-five coming towards them now, and Mal felt his time running out. “Stop fidgeting. Honestly, Mal, you can go through torture, bullets and a war without a whimper, but bring you into a clothing store, and-” “Hey, I whimpered plenty in the war, and torture ain’t no treat!” Mal stopped, hearing what he’d just said. That didn’t sound manly, did it? “What I mean to say is, clothing stores are not my especial favorite- I just- Torture hurts an awful lot, you know,” he ended rather illogically. Inara blinked up at him, and the act of breathing was suddenly harder to accomplish. “Mal?” “Yep.” “Shut up.” “Right,” he muttered, eyes shifting towards the exits. The Chinese woman was in front of them now, bowing graciously. Inara bowed back, not releasing his arm, and Mal jerked his head at the shopkeeper when Inara’s elbow surreptitiously jammed into his ribs. “Ni hao ma,” the woman said with a smile. “Ni hao ma, Mika,” Inara replied. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” The woman, Mika, studied Inara’s face. “Merciful Buddha! Inara, is it? Inara Serra?” “Don’t you know everyone,” Mal said under his breath. Inara’s fingers were suddenly painfully tight on his arm. He glanced at her face, and found it as serene as ever. Figured. “It’s been too long. I haven’t visited Diogenes in years.” “How can I help you, my dear?” “By helping this man here. He needs to look respectable.” “Ah, I see. Hmm. I think we can help with the clothes, but you’ll need a lot more than that to make him respectable.” Mal opened his mouth indignantly, but Inara was talking. “What do you have?” Mika walked around Mal, who spun to keep her in eyesight. Inara rolled her own eyes and held him still. “What’re you doin’,” he hissed at her, resentful of the way both women completely ignored the fact that he was a real man, not a mannequin to dress up. “Relax, Mal,” Inara told him. “It’ll only take a few minutes, and then we’ll be ready.” “I don’t wanna be ready!” “I thought you wanted to look, well, un-rogueish.” “You think I look rogueish?” Mal asked, pleased. “Hard not to, with all the scars you’ve got.” “I don’t have no scars on my face.” “Yes, but you forget: I’ve seen you shirtless. And more than that.” Inara was delighted to see Mal blush, and Mika kept wisely silent. “That didn’t count, you know,” Mal said, raising his arms so that Mika could measure him. “What didn’t?” “That time with Saffron. The whole Lassiter thing.” Inara smiled, amused. “Why not?” “It was a desert. Drafty. T’ain’t fair to take the… ah, take the measure of a man… when it’s all drafty like that.” “Really.” “Well, yeah.” “Needless to say, you were naked-” “In a drafty desert-” “Alone-” “After I pulled off the heist of the century-” “Because that little vixen talked you out of your clothes and your shuttle-” “And it ain’t any of your business, anyways!” “And I had to come rescue you. Ah, the good old days.” Mal was going to say something witty and devastating- he was, really- but Mika chose that moment to pull him off to a dressing room. Inara stayed behind, watching with a little smirk on her face. Mal tried one last plead with his eyes, but she simply shook her head and let him be whisked out of sight. Inara ran her fingers over a few shirts that were on display, liking none of them as much as she liked Mal’s soft cotton oxfords or the warm brown coat that she’d never seen him give anyone else. She secretly wanted to wear it, to wrap herself in his smell, but she would never ask. It was too private, too tied to Mal’s past. She did like touching it though, feeling the leather and metal and thread that made up Malcolm Reynolds’ shield. She still had a little smile on her face. He was funny, after all. He made her laugh, even when he wasn’t trying. Especially when he wasn’t trying. Inara wondered what was going to happen. He hadn’t mentioned her admission since landing, and she wasn’t sure he would. Was it not enough for him? Was he so gorram stubborn as that? Or would he wait until they were alone and make some declaration of- of what? Love? That wasn’t Mal’s style. He’d most likely continue as they’d been going, with the same quips and barbs and the occasional breath-stealing kiss. Basically, the same routine they’d been in since the beginning, with the addition of the kisses. Kisses. There were several different types of kisses, of course. Inara Serra was well-versed in all but one of them. There was the shy-kiss, the kiss of an inexperienced or uncertain lover. There was the lust-kiss, which would be hard and fast and moving quickly into other things. There was the passion-kiss, the deep one that involved a good deal of tongue. And then, after all those and more, there was the elusive love-kiss. The kiss that didn’t have to be anything because it was everything. The kiss that had no boundaries, no expectations. Impossible to put expectations on the holy, after all. And love, true love, was holy. Inara believed that with all her fiercely-guarded heart. Kissing Mal was holy. It was also wicked and lustful and passionate and everything in between, but she could feel the sacredness in her breast. Love. She truly loved him. Every time she saw him, thought of him, touched him, Inara seemed to find another reason to love him. Or another reason to scream at him, but that was beside the point. But she knew she couldn’t just bask in her love, or his. That was a kind of purgatory, caught between the world of Companionship and the world of Serenity. Inara was a Companion to her soul, but she was also a part of Serenity’s crew. A part of each member of that crew, living and dead. She believed, too, in ghosts. Not the childhood ghosts that she used to talk about when she was younger. Not even the ghosts that so many novels featured. Inara believed in the ghosts that haunt the living’s souls. The kind that whisper in your ear at night, memories fleeting like deer on Sihnon or Earth-That-Was. Wash. Book. Nandi. Sam. She prayed that she wouldn’t have to add Mal to that list, or anyone else. Inara wondered what price she would pay. His life? Hers? Someone else she loved? It wouldn’t be an easy choice, deciding what to do next. And, she knew, someone would pay dearly. Whether it was Sheydra at the Training House, or Margitte, her House Mother, or whether it was Kaylee or Mal or any of the others, she didn’t know. It didn’t seem fair that she should worry so much about hurting those she loved when Serenity’s crew were all dealing with such greater problems. River had been through hell and back, and she was managing. Of course, Inara thought grimly, she didn’t make it ALL back, did she? But these were the thoughts of a Companion, and so when Mal returned with Mika strutting ahead of him like a proud mother hen, none of them showed on Inara’s face. Actually, they pretty much fled her head at the sight. Mal was wearing a black suit jacket over a crisp white shirt that was tucked into a pair of well-cut gray slacks. He had no tie, but that didn’t lessen the effect. He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Yeah, so? Whaddaya think?” Inara smiled, smoothing her skirts. “Why, Captain Reynolds, I do believe you offered to escort me this evening. Shall we?” She handed Mika a purse that jingled promisingly, and the Chinese matron gave Inara a kiss on the cheek. Mal’s lips quirked up at the corners, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets and held out his arm to Inara. She wrapped her hand about the crook of his elbow, and let him lead her out of the shop. * * * * * “What’s the plan, River?” “What we have to do.” “Well, yeah, but what is it?” River looked at the waiting crew with exasperation. “Have to make her choose.” Zoe nodded sagely, understanding. Kaylee looked confused, and Simon wasn’t showing anything. Jayne just watched River with a strange, almost wistful look in his eye. “Have to make her want to be here more than there.” “How do we do that without blatantly asking her to stay?” River rolled her eyes at her brother. “You are such a boob.” Kaylee giggled. “You keep calling me that.” “I keep hoping maybe one day you’ll listen,” River shot back. Simon felt that he should get angry, but he was enjoying her normality too much. “You folk work on ‘Nara,” Zoe put in. “I’ll handle Mal.” * * * * * “They’re somewhere near the fifteenth quadrant.” “What’s the biggest planet in that quad?” “Place called Diogenes.” Jennings cocked his head thoughtfully. “Well, we’d best pop down there and have a look, do you agree?” “Yessir.” The man jogged down the hall towards the bridge, leaving Jennings standing in the armory. He ran a finger over his guns. “I was just going to hand you over, Captain. I think I’ll try something else, now. Word says that a certain Adelai Niska would be pleased to see your face,” Jennings murmured into the silence. He’d always had that habit, talking to people who weren’t actually there. Others just didn’t seem to understand that. It got so annoying. * * * * * “Simon?” Simon turned to see Kaylee standing uncertainly in the doorway to the infirmary. Her hair was down around her face, making him want to tuck it up behind her ears or something. Either that or tear her clothes off and make the rest of her look just as unkempt. “Oh, hey, Kaylee. What’s wrong?” He prided himself on his restraint. She made her way in, and Simon caught her up in a hug. Maybe not that much restraint. Kaylee wrapped her legs around his waist, entwining her arms about his neck. Simon kissed the tip of her nose. “What is it, bao bei?” “It’s about Jayne and River.” “Oh, god, I don’t want to even THINK about Jayne and River.” Kaylee smiled, her eyes lighting up. “I’m just a little worried, ‘s all. I think there’s somethin’ really goin’ on.” “I thought you thought it was ‘sweet’.” “Well, yeah. But now… I still think it’s sweet that River likes Jayne. What’s got me worried is that Jayne likes River back.” Simon rested Kaylee’s bottom against the counter, leaning her backwards as he spoke, making her laugh. “Jayne likes everything he sees that happens to have breasts.” “Yeah, but I think he actually *likes* her.” “You’re serious? You think the man-ape-gone-wrong-thing is in love with my sister?” Simon wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying, but more to kissing each part of Kaylee’s face. “Well,” she said between kisses, “I dunno. Just wanted to make sure you was okay with it.” Simon paused. “Okay with what? What were we talking about?” Kaylee smiled, shook her head. “Nuthin’. Kiss me some more, Doctor Tam.” “Hmm, that’s just what I’ve prescribed-” Before he could finish, Kaylee’s hand was sliding down his trousers and things got a little blurry from that point on.

TBC: Next: Jennings catches up with Mal and Inara, and the crew on Serenity are left a little confuzzled. Bear with me now, things’ll turn out okay.