I set the firefly-CD on "repeat", froze Mals dear face in the TV set and started to write - so this is, what I ended up with. Teachtaire was so kind to lector it - thanks! So here comes my first fanfic ever (though I have written shortstories). Comments are welcome. Hope, you all enjoy!

Pain By Esther Schmidt Setting: sometime between “War Stories” and “Heart of Gold”

"Cap? Do you have a few minutes?" Kaylee entered the kitchen, where Malcolm was meditating over some papers, obviously comparing income and spending of the last weeks. Judging by the way he was bent over the table, the result of his calculations caused him some reasonable amount of pain. "What's the problem?" he asked absent-minded without raising his head. "It's the compression coil, sir." “Gah!” He let out a muffled scream as if someone had stuck a living fish under his shirt. Instantly upright sitting, he stared at his board mechanic. "Never", he growled, "never ever do I wanna hear this gorram word again!" This thing had cost him some of the most horrifying hours on board of Serenity ever, being almost suffocated, shot, bled to death and - worst of all - being all alone. He didn't like to be reminded of that particular episode of his life. "But how should I call it then, Captain?" "Call it piece of gou shi or call it Betty-Lou, I don't care. Just don’t call it … what you call it." "But that doesn't change the fact, that we need a new one." "Again?" Malcolm stretched the word until it appropriately matched his lack of understanding. "It was exchanged, wasn't it? I mean, I took quite a hit, to get a replacement." "No Captain. It wasn't the co …." "Kaylee!" "… smos", she ended the word, springing to the first thing, that came to her mind, "it was the catalyser, that was exchanged. Remember?" Malcolm muttered some of the more unpleasant but colourful expressions that the Chinese language offered so abundantly. "So now, you have to exchange this other thing." "Well", Kaylee shrug her shoulders. "The problem is, that the catalyser we … obtained … is all new, but the co…smos" this time, a sharp look of him had been sufficient to let her change within a second to the new name she had found for the compression coil, "the cosmos is pretty old. So we have an irregular gradation of the circular flow, furring up the capillary connections and effectively corroding the inner coating." Malcolm had listened to her with an expression of friendly understanding. Now he nodded dreamy and said: "This was almost poetic. Just why does everybody assume, that I’m an expert in just what they are doing?" Kaylee sighted. Back to Captain-dummy-talk! "Old part", she began raising her right hand, "and new part" her left hand went up, "don’t work together. New part will be damaged." Her hands intermingled, until the left one dropped, leaving the right one in the air, fingers bent like an eagle’s talon. Mal sighted. "So we need a new … eh …" "… cosmos", she nodded. Malcolm’s eyes wandered to the papers on the table, the expression of pain returning to his face. "How much?” he asked with a sound of resignation. "It's not just the price", Kaylee replied. "The problem is, to find one. At all the outposts, we have visited lately, I have looked through the stores, but all they have are used ones. We'll have to get closer to the core, in order to find a brand-new … cosmos." "How then about exchanging the new catalyser with an old one?” Mel asked hopefully. Kaylee hesitated, then she replied with a sound of cautious astonishment: "Do you really want to put a used, old catalyser into Serenity’s engine? I mean, after all the trouble, it caused the last …" "It's decided", Mel interrupted her briskly and got up. "What is decided?" Wash entered the galley, closely followed by Shepherd Book. "You have to set a new course", Mel replied. "We fly to Persephone and then towards the core, stopping at any major shopping facility, until we have found, what we need." "Persephone", Wash nodded. "Say, doesn't that happen to be the planet, where on our last visit Atherton Wing had tried to cut a juicy T-bone steak out of your ribs?" "I doubt that he keeps track of every ship, docking at the Eavesdown, so we just have to stay low. We need this thing." Mal shuffled the papers together and left the galley. Wash gazed after him. "What do we need then?” he wondered. "A new cosmos", Kaylee replied, while following Mal out of the room. Wash turned to Book with blank amazement and the shepherd nodded thoughtfully. "Sometimes I truly whish it was that easy", he said in his deep, full voice. Wash turned back to the door, where Mal and Kaylee had just disappeared. Then he muttered: "She definitively spends too much time playing with River."

**********

Although Atherton Wing had no influence in the rest of the galaxy, Inara's client base on Persephone had dwindled after that unfortunate duel between Atherton and the captain of Serenity. She checked on the few waves she had received and, with a sigh, opted for a client, she might not have considered under other circumstances. Her mood was accordingly cold when she met Mal in the corridor. “How long are we planning to stay on Persephone?” she asked him straight away. “As long as Kaylee needs to look through the stores for this gorram part we need.” Inara clinched her lips together. This was one of Mal’s less attractive qualities, not being ready to give her specific and useful information. So she decided to be more specific on her side. “Will I have enough time for a client appointment?” “Why?” he answered. “Is Atherton throwing a party?” She could feel the smouldering anger rise to surface. “I don’t think, that this is any of your concern”, she said with an icy voice. “But if you care to know, that stupid stunt you pulled the last time, hasn’t done my business any good. So if you want to make up for it just a little, you could give me at least a week or so to …” “Make up for it?” Mal interrupted her, eyebrows raised. “Do I have to remind you, that it was me, who got stabbed?” He pointed to his right side, somewhat below the ribs. “Right here!” “Well, no-one asked you to!” she replied angrily. “Ah, now that’s just great. Next time, someone implies, that he has every right on you just because he’s paying, I’ll shake his hands and say: enjoy your purchase, sir.” “Actually, I would prefer, that you have no contact with my clients whatsoever”, she answered furious. “Just stay out of my business!” “I will, Inara, be sure of that. Two days, not more. Be back on time.” He turned on his heels and headed for the bridge – or his bunk – wherever – just away from her. As he stormed off, he clinched his teeth together. Why did it always have to be like this? Why could they never have just a normal conversation? Why was every word she said hurting him? And why could he not stop hurting her?

Inara as well was furious, hurt and sorry at the same time. She was so deep in her thoughts that she almost tripped over River, crouching on the floor in front of the shuttle door. "Match is not over yet", the girl said obscurely, looking intensely at her with her big, dark eyes. "It was suspended due to bad weather, but it will be rescheduled. Audience will be different, though." Inara tried to smile, but the words sent a creepy shiver down her spine. She could not say why that was. "Do you want to come in?” she asked, but River shook her head and stood up. "He is waiting for you", she added before she left. Inara watched her go and hesitated to open the shuttle, half expecting, to find someone waiting in there. But there was no-one.

**********

Malcolm Reynolds had managed to get a little job of his own. Approaching Persephone, he had sent a wave to Sir Warwick Harrow asking him, if there was any help, he could offer, and he had received a prompt answer. Half an hour after touch down, he was standing in the entrance hall of Harrow Manor, dressed up in his best clothing: white shirt, red bow, dark vest and horribly tight pants. Well, if he had learned anything from Inara, it was that you have to go with your client’s taste. “Captain Reynolds!” Harrow came down an impressive stair, displaying a genuine happiness to see Malcolm again. “How’s business going?” he asked, as they shook hands. “Well enough to keep us flying”, Mal answered somewhat evasive. “I heard, the transport went smooth, last time. It seems to me, you know how to handle cattle.” “Grew up on a ranch. Forgot most of it, though.” Although he felt some sympathy for the grumpy, ranching nobleman, Mal was not ready to chat about his life with him. “Is it cattle again, this time?” “No”, Harrow shook his head. “Nothing of this size, just some equipment I have to send to the third moon of Persephone. Would you care for a Bourbon, before we start to talk business?” “Won’t say no to that one.” Shortly after, they were sitting in some huge leather chairs in front of a fireplace, in which virtual flames spread some light and crackle, but no heat. Mal turned the glass, Harrow had handed him, watching with excited anticipation the rich amber colour and the film, the moisture left on the glass. This was the genuine thing, not to be compared with the rotgut served in the bars everywhere or even the products of Kaylee’s inter-engine fermentation system. Then, slowly, as to savour every bit of the experience, he took a sip, felt the liquor biting his tongue, the earthy taste floating up his nose, filling his mouth with pure delight before sharply descending down his throat. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Harrow’s content smile. “It’s good to have company enjoying the same things that you like.” The Rancher stated pleased. “This whisky is older, than you are.” “Could become my next hobby”, Mal agreed. “Now, coming back to that job of yours.” Harrow nodded. “A business partner of mine is searching for minerals and other natural resources at the third moon. He ordered some scanners and the like, to assess the possible yield. The containers are right outside, and as soon as we have agreed on the fare, I’ll have them brought right over to your ship.” “That should be no problem”, Mal nodded. “But apart from that, there is another thing”, Harrow continued, “let’s call it a good turn, I’d like to perform for a friend. That’s the reason, why I wanted to talk to you personally.” He took a sip of the amber-coloured Bourbon before he continued. “This aforementioned friend of mine has to get a box out of a customs warehouse at the Eavesdown Docks.” Mal raised his eyebrows. “So you need me to run a simple errand? Don’t be offended, if that’s making me a bit jumpy.” Harrow smiled and leaned back. “This might be a big planet, but we are a small community here, Captain Reynolds. Word spreads quickly among the nobility. Heck, one day after your duel, half the world was laughing about the moron Wing. Had quite a struggle over the last few months to halfway get back to where he thinks he belongs.” Mal nodded thoughtfully, not being too pleased with the idea, that he had made himself another enemy, regaining power and influence. Well, they would not be on Persephone for long anyhow. “This friend of mine, he has, let’s say, sort of an eccentric taste, when it comes to his hobbies. He would prefer someone from out of the world to care about this business of his.” “So no gossip can be spread from any locals involved”, Mal added. “Correct. I would ask that you do not leave this to another member of your crew, but do it yourself. I hope you’re not offended of me offering you a mere courier job.” Mal shrug his shoulders. “We’re not fastidious, when it comes to work, and as they say: small livestock produces dung, too. Besides”, he raised his glass and smiled. “This alone was worth coming.”

**********

Harrow had not described, what it exactly was, his friend had ordered, so Mal was still a bit tense when he arrived at the warehouses of the Eavesdown Docks. All he knew was that a Magistrate Bowden had ordered some goods anonymously, only with a security pin code to get it out of custody. When he had learned, that the box was broken due to bad shipping and the content plainly to be seen, he hesitated to send his own people to pick it up, since everybody would have known for whom they worked. Mal handed over the card with the pin code that Harrow had given to him and when the clerk had entered into his scanner, he eyed Mal with a disapproving, almost disdainful look from head do tow. “Nice set of toys, you’ve ordered there, sir.” Mal felt no need to defend himself before this clerk, so he just smiled. “Good to know, there’re some other people with good taste around.” The Man just eyed him icily and then said. “Follow me!” He led the Captain of Serenity to a big substitute container. When Mal looked at the pieces floating around therein, he stiffened. There were chains and handcuffs, glittering in the artificial light, pointy blades and knifes, rubber cudgels and whips of different sizes shapes and materials. Mal grew pale as memories rushed through his body - pain, death and reanimation for even more pain. Although he had forced this memory to the back of his brain, it kept popping up in situations like this. When he lay alone in his bunk, surrounded by Serenity’s comforting hum, he sometimes even brought it back intentionally, placing it in front of him, looking pitiless at this deformation of his soul, like he would have looked at a mutilation of his body. He forced himself to remember, to go back into the agony and the humiliation, to stay there until his body stopped trembling. He knew that this was the only way, to handle this kind of experience. If he ignored it, it would sneak up behind his back, hitting him unexpectedly in moments, when he was weak. And if there was one thing, Malcolm Reynolds could not allow himself to be, it was weak. He had to train himself to stand the pain, the memory, so that it could not get to him unexpectedly, paralyze him, and kill him. Mal drew a deep breath and shook his head to clear his thoughts. Then he forced himself to look again, closer now, and realised, that everything in the box looked a bit too delicate, to be really intimidating. The black leather and silk parts and some pink feathers and cushions attached here and there showed, for which purpose these items were planned to be used. He shook his head. Malcolm Reynolds was not overly moral when it came to sex. His view was that whatever was going on between the people involved was of their own business, as long as everybody enjoyed himself. It was just, that pain was something he had encountered so often unwillingly, that he never would associate it with pleasure or lust. Mal towed the broken box on the mule, ignoring the half-curious, half-disdainful views of the clerks and dockworkers around him. Everything covered with some extra-layer of blankets; he rode off to bring the cargo back to Serenity for re-packing.

**********

Mal found Serenity filled with anxiety, when he arrived. The first person he encountered was Kaylee, who awaited him in the loading bay. Tears had washed out little creeks of clean from the engine grease of her face. "What happened?” he asked as he jumped from the Mule. "Inara has disappeared", Kaylee answered sobbing. "Her client sent a wave. She was due there an hour ago, but never showed up. "Doesn't sound quite like her", Mal agreed, touching her shoulder softly. "But all kind of things could have happened. There's no reason to cry yet, li’l Kaylee." "That's what we thought, until we received this wave from Atherton Wing." It was like an iron fist in his stomach. "Wing", he repeated. "He wants to speak to you, Sir!" Zoë had appeared at the top of the stairs. "He says he has Inara!" A few minutes later, they all were standing in the cockpit, looking down to the screen where Atherton Wings well-groomed portrait had appeared. "Captain Reynolds! What a pleasure to see you're back on Persephone. I never expected you to be returning so soon!" "Did you reckon I had a reason to steer clear of this lovely place?” Mal answered. "How did you recover from our last come-together, Ath? Hope, it left some scars." A sour smile glided across Wings face. "Taking into account the kind of medical care I can afford, I suppose, I recovered much sooner, than you did." "Wouldn't be too sure on that one", Mal replied and River nudged her elbow into her brother's side, smiling proudly at him. "However", Wing continued, "I admit, you very likely had the more committed nurse. I imagine, your little floozy had all sorts of reasons to be impressed, and I reckon she has paid her debts in kind right away." Mal snorted. "So you just called for a chit-chat", he asked, "Or is there something, you need me to help you with." "As I recall, there is still this duel, we haven't finished yet", Wing answered and Mal raised his eyebrows. "Kinda remember you laying down in the grass, though." "And I remember having my sword on your throat", Wing barked somewhat upset, "And I would have slit it right there, if this dirty whore hadn’t have distracted me." "I think I get it. You require all circumstances to be set up in your favour, when you enter a fight. Guess that's why you turned down my offer for a fist or a gun fight." "No, you filthy hwoon dahn. I chose the sword, because this is the weapon of an honourable man." "Ah, I see. So I reckon it’s also the custom of an honourable man to kidnap a helpless woman?" Wing uttered a stream of curses in Chinese that would have made any worker down at the Eavesdown docks grow pale. “Atherton!” Malcolm said disapprovingly, when it had ended. “Language!” “In ten minutes, one of my men will pick you up right at that pile of gou shi you call a ship and will bring you here. I expect you to go with him – alone. No tracking device, no weapons. I’ll have a sword for you right here.” “Hopefully not one of them breaking ones, like the last time.” Mal obviously had used up all of Wings good humour. “Just be here!” he hissed. “And if not?” “Then I’ll return Inara Serra to you – limb by limb.” Mal stared down at the pinched face on the monitor and then nodded. “I’ll be there”, he said.

Mal was not as much at ease, as his words had made it seem. When he had terminated the connection and turned around to his crew, all could see the worry in his eyes. And then they all started to talk at the same time. “He’ll kill you, Cap! And then 'Nara!” “Yes, and then he’ll try to gain the power over the whole universe.” “I’m coming with you, Sir!” “Let’s find the sucker and blow out them lights!” Mal made an impatient gesture, “Bi Zuei!”, and continued, after they had shut up: “He hasn’t given us much time to make a plan, so I’ll have to play along, until I see a chance to end all this.” “We should at least hide a transmitter somewhere on your clothes”, Book suggested, “So we are able to find you and help you both out.” “Don’t you think he will search me?” Mal shook his head. “You heard, what he said: no tracking device. He had thought about this, too.” “Do we even have such a thing?” Wash asked. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but for my Swiss army knife, I took the version with the screwdriver.” Zoë looked at him, thinking. “How about that remote-controlled spaceship you keep banging against our bunk’s walls?” “You never liked it, did you? But we would need to have a distance less then a hundred meters away from the captain to pick up such a signal, maybe two with Serenity’s scanners. Shouting would be more effective.” “The containers!” Kaylee gasped. “Which containers?” “The ones, Harrow’s men brought just an hour ago!” “Great idea”, Wash nodded. “Mal takes them with him and drops secretly one after the other. Then we just follow his trail.” Kaylee waived her hands impatiently. “They contain scanners, don’t they?” “Yes, but they are set to find minerals, not Malcolm’s!” “Maybe.” Simon, who had been silent until now, looked thoughtfully over to the Captain. “Maybe there is a way …”

**********

The loading area looked as if a tornado had just gone through it. Parts and gadgets lay all around with Kaylee sitting in the middle, fiddling on this one, and then testing another. Mal looked at her, trying to make himself feel more confident, than he was, when Zoë stepped up to him. “Any instructions, while you’re away, Sir?” “Yes. Find out, how these things work, before he has killed me!” “We will, Sir.” “Oh, and have the box on the mule repacked, so we can drop it off as soon as you have saved me and Inara!” “What is it?” Jane asked with some suspicion. “It’s what rich and noble people use for their enjoyment.” Jayne looked over to the mule with some anticipation, but was soon disappointed, when Simon pulled back the blanket, reaching into the broken box. "I see", he nodded, pulling out a metal bustier with black leather fringes and spikes sticking out in all directions. "Our jobs become more and more culturally refined." “Hey, you’re the one born on the sunny side of the street, doc. Don’t lecture me on the clean joys of a simple life!” Jayne still stared. "I'm not touching this stuff, Mal!” he finally said. "Jayne, get to work! It’s just toys for some rich guy! Get it re-packed." Simon cautiously laid back the bustier and then stepped up to the captain. "How do you feel?” he asked. "As you would expect", Mal assured. "So, no allergic reaction?" "Nothing, doc. All’s fine, besides me being about to be brought to a duel, I can't win." "You did defeat him the last time." Book tried to bring some hope back into the captain's thoughts, but Mal shook his head. "That was different. I had a second and there were neutral observers. I wouldn't think that's the way he'll have things set up this time. He'll make sure, I have no chance." "So, then what's the point of goin' there?” Jayne asked from the back. "The point is", Wash answered annoyed, “that he rather dies with Inara then staying with you on a boat! Thinking of that, maybe I should come with you, Mal!" Jayne grunted. "Maybe you should, li’l man!" Wash just shook his head. "We'll find you", he said to Mal. "We're getting you out of there. Hell, he's not Niska, you know, and we got you out from there, didn't we?" Mal nodded and forced a smile. He knew that they needed him to appear strong and confident. He was the captain, his strength was their strength. And this time, Ingra’s well-being was at stake, so he could not allow himself, to loose his self-control – other than it had been with Niska. The crew still hailed the events as a victory. They all had come, putting their lives at stake to save him, and they had succeeded. They felt, like they had won, and Mal left them their belief. He alone knew that it was not the truth. Niska had won. Mal had been unable, to bear the pain. He had not been strong enough, to withstand the temptation of letting himself fall into the comforting blackness of the nothingness, which stretched behind the agony like a wide, open plain. They didn't know – and he would never tell them – that he had allowed himself to die.

**********

Three men were sitting on the hovering glider outside, two of them armed, eying him fiercely, as Mal climbed on board. "So, guys, where are we going?” he asked cheerful, while one of them was tying his hands together behind his back. The driver gave him a grim look. "Nice try." Then he started the engine. “Don’t you want to blindfold me?” Mal wondered, but the man sitting to his left just snorted. “Won’t be coming back alive anyhow.” “Now there is a reassuring prospect!” Mal looked over to Zoë, who was standing at the side, arms folded over her breasts, sinisterly watching the men. He gave her a short nod, which she returned. Then they drove off. Despite his appearance, Malcolm Reynolds feelings were far from being calm and reassured. He was full of worries, but his hope was, that Wing would not harm Inara, until he could do it in front of Malcolm's eyes. Then, it was a question of keeping him from doing it. Mal was so much in worry about the companion, that the concern about his own life had somewhat faded off. Being in danger, suffering, even loosing his life, that was one thing, but being responsible for the life of others, worst even, of people, he cared about, that was much harder to bear. He had learned that in the war, where he had seen men, some of them mere boys, die under his command. People, he had shared fear and laughter, beans and blankets with, lying at his side in screaming agony or just whimpering and bleeding to death while he was busy shooting and killing, not even able to console them in their last moments. He had seen the trust, they had put in him, fade away from their faces. Serenity Valley had almost crushed him, had nearly ground his soul into smithereens, if he had allowed it to do so. It had just been too strong, and the only way, to withstand it, had been, to become like it, to take the destructive power inside and learn from it. The war had been brutal, cruel and cynical. So he had to become brutal, cruel and cynical, to be able to hold up against the pressure. But as it is with pressure: the price is immobility. Now, they were two forces dead set against each other. If one side slackened, both would tumble and eventually fall. So he knew, that now, because he had survived Serenity Valley, he could never leave. It was kind of consistent with the pattern of his live, that Inara was now in the hands of an evil, rich lunatic, who wanted to kill her or 'just' ugly her up, as he had threatened before. Sometimes Mal wondered, whether there was something like a curse on him, so that he brought disaster upon everyone, but always surviving himself. And that’s what he hated god for – not for bringing him pain, but for laying it on the shoulders of others. They brought him to a house somewhere in town. In a big inner yard, Wing was waiting under an umbrella, sipping at a bight yellow long drink, smiling as they arrived. On the other side of a small table, Inara was sitting in a somewhat stiff posture. Mal looked over to her. “Everything okay?” his eyes were asking, and she answered with a soft, reassuring nod. “Well, there he is!” Wing smiled oily. “Sorry to have you brought here all tied up, but since you are not a nobleman, I feared you might not come in a way suitable for the event.” “Sorry, if I didn’t dress up properly”, Mal answered. “You just didn’t give me enough time to go through my wardrobe.” “I’m sure you found the time to add some deadly accessories, though.” “You can search me, if you like.” “I will, thanks for the kind offer.” Wing gave a bossy glimpse to one of the men, who was holding a small, grey box in front of his stomach. He pointed the device towards Malcolm, moving it slowly up and down, staring upon it with concentration. “No weapons”, he stated and Mal smiled. “I normally show consideration for the wishes of my host. “ “But he is bugged.” “Am I?” Wing growled. “Wipe that surprise out of your face. Where is it, Sean?” The man took some slow steps around Malcolm, frisking him with the right hand while scanning him with the grey box in his left hand. After a while, he stated: “It’s not in the clothing. He must have swallowed it.” Wing snored angrily. "Did you really think I would be that stupid? Not finding it this way? I’m really disappointed, do you know that? ” “Sorry to have hurt your feelings, Ath. But I think, you might have seen more in this relationship, than there is.” Wing scrutinized him calmly. “Sean, how can we get it out?” “We can make him throw up”, the man answered, “or we can try to break it in a more traditional way.” Wing smiled. “And a more painful one. Do it!” Two of the men took Malcolm’s arms, while a third one clenched his fist, smiling with joyful anticipation. Mal tensed the muscles, expecting the blow. "You should go and see your dentist", he said disapprovingly. "Your teeth are in a terrible sta…" The last word was drowned out by a muffled groan, as the thug's fist drove into Mal's stomach. While Inara shuddered and Wing smiled contently, the guy with the gauge stared intensely at the grey box, then shook his head. "Nope", he said. “Further down.” The thug swung his arm back again and Inara closed her eyes and turned her head away. “Wait”, Mal shouted, “wasn’t there some talking about an alternat…? Oooomph!” "You should stop talking", Wing advised friendly. "You could bite your tongue." Slowly, Mal raised his head and Inara saw a thin tread of blood seeping from the left corner of his mouth. "Thanks for the suggestion, Ath", he said somewhat indistinct. "Came a bit too late, though." “Come on, Captain Reynolds. Don’t tell me, this is the first time, you have ever been beaten.” Mal shook his head. “Wouldn’t recommend it as a way of spending your holidays, though.” Wing smiled and turned to his guy. “Sean? Do we have it?” The man nodded. “Yep, we blew it. Was rather short-range anyhow.” “Give him a few more, just to be sure, and then bring him to the glider.” Mal looked up and saw the thug joyfully rubbing his fist. “So let’s find out, what kind of man you are”, the guy said. Mal sighted. "Just once, I wanna meet a person, who tries to meet the real me by just looking into my face!"

**********

“Glider” had been an understatement. The vehicle was a closed, shuttle-like plane, which could have brought them around the planet within a five hour flight. Mal, still with his hands tied up behind his back, was huddled in the rear with Inara sitting at his side, dabbing the blood from his face. While she was bent over him, he let his view glide over the rich, black curls that flowed over her shoulders, and in spite of the situation, they were in, her beauty made him smile. “How could you be so stupid to come here?” she asked whispering, destroying the moment. “Stupid?!” He replied somewhat indignant. “I’m here to save you!” “Oh, that’s what that was? So what is your plan? Let him beat you up, until he drops dead?” Mal slowly shook his head. “The others will find us. They’ll get us out. All we have to do is gain some time!” “Mal, he will cut you into little pieces!” “Good! I’m sure, that’ll take its time.” Inara felt the usual anger rising, a familiar feeling, whenever she was talking to him. "Oh yes, you fear no pain. You're such a tough guy!" she hissed. He looked at her, hurt in a way from her lack of understanding. "I just see no point in tryin' to run from it, 'cause in my experience, it will get you anyway, no matter, what you do. So you might as well turn around and face it!" “But he will kill you, Mal!” Again, he shook his head. “He won’t kill me. They’ll find us first.” “What makes you be so sure?” “Well, I gave Zoë a direct order.” Inara rolled her eyes. “Stop dreaming, Mal! They won’t find us! We could be halfway around the planet by now! He has crushed the transmitter!” “They’ll find us”, he contradicted with confidence. “How do you know?” “Well … because! You know the crew. If you don’t trust me, trust them!”

**********

They flew a good while before landing. Mal could see some green through the windows, trees and bushes, and when he stepped out of the vessel, he took a good look around. They had reached the momentary night-day-border of the planet. It obviously was just shortly after sunrise. “Lovely spot you picked there, Ath. Say, is there a law, that duels always have to take place at sunrise in a delightful environment, or is that just your traditional taste?” “I just like to have the day still in front of me, after the killing”, Wing answered. “Cut him loose.” After that had happened, Mal rolled his shoulders, which had stiffened in the abnormal position the ropes had forced them into. Someone brought a table, placing two swords on it. Sean made Inara sit down in a chair, stepping behind her and laying his hands upon her shoulders. “She won’t be disturbing us this time”, Wing said contently. “Don’t be too sure on that one”, Mal replied. “She can be pretty disturbing in any circumstance.” Wing looked at him. "I thought about cutting her nose off first, but then I decided, that the pain might distract her from the show. So I’ll do I afterwards, but before that, I will kill you slowly, Captain Reynolds, cutting and carving on you like on a piece of wood, and she will be able to savour every minute of it.” He pointed towards the table. “Pick the weapon, you like.” “Actually, a Revolver would do.” “You will have to stick with what is there.” Mal sighted. “Say, can’t we talk this trough, like two adult beings?” “Take a sword, you coward!” “Insulting me is not gonna help us here, Ath.” Wing grabbed one of the swords and pulling it out of the scabbard he shouted: “Defend yourself!” “And if I don’t?” “Then I will let everybody know, that you’re the lowest, lily-livered whoon dahn in the solar system!” Mal raised his eyebrows. “That’s all?” There was a trace of laughter in his voice and turning away he said: “Okay then. Inara, let’s go.” “You will stay and fight or I will kill her!” Mal turned back to him. “Oh, and I thought you were going to kill me first. Really, Ath, you should make up your mind. You can’t have everything, you know?” “You’re right, I’ll kill you first, and she will watch. She will see who is the better man between the two of us.” Mal looked surprised. “All this just to show of for a woman? I heard, puberty ends late in the circles of the nobility, but you must be … how old are you, Ath?” With a furious scream, Wing attacked, forcing his opponent towards the table. Mal decided to grab the sword after all to fend off Wings blade. They exchanged just two strokes, and stopped, standing a few steps apart, facing each other. “I had her booked for the week!” Atherton grinded his teeth. “She was all mine!” “See, that's the difference” Mal replied. “I never had to pay her, to go to a party with me!” “That’s because she never went to a party with you!” Mal had to admit, that Ath had got a point there. “At least, I didn't had do kidnap her, to make her fly in my ship!” Okay, now it was even again. “You two make such a pathetic paring! The petty looser and the hooker.” "The word’s ‘companion’”, Mal corrected. “Nobody is calling her a whore!" "Oh", Inara mumbled and could not keep herself from adding “Is that so?” At this, Mal lowered his sword and gave her an annoyed look. "I'm just defending my privileges here!" “I see. Just go on!” Wing drew a deep breath. “Enough joking, time to get serious”, he said, adding: "Right upper arm", as if announcing the next shot in a game of billiards. Then he attacked. Mal did his best to parry, but after a few strokes, he felt the sharp sensation of metal cutting through skin. There was no pain at first, just a disturbing feeling rushing through the body, shaking up the circulation, pouring out the adrenaline. Mal staggered a few steps back, holding his arm, waiting for the pain to start. When it came, he was prepared, grabbed it, and pushed it to the back of his mind. He would not allow it, to impede him. “Left lower arm!” Wing attacked again and a few moments later, blood was dripping over Mal’s left Hand. “Right tight!” He was fast. Inara pressed her lips firmly together to keep herself from screaming. She shivered at each hit that Mal took. Wing had been right. He was cutting and carving, until shirt and pants of the Captain of Serenity were drenched in blood. Mal was swaying, but still trying to keep himself on his feet. “Left ear!” “Oh no!” Mal raised a hand, heavily panting. “My doctor had been so proud, having it re-fixed! You really gonna make yourself an enemy, if you go for that one!” “Do you think I care?” “Well, you really should!” That had been Zoë's voice coming from beneath the trees. She stepped out onto the lawn, a rifle in her arms pointing right at Wing. “You won’t make many friends, if you keep hurting people’s feelings!” Mal was so relieved to see her, his knees almost gave way. Setting the sword down, he leaned on it, like an old man on a stick. Wing stared at Zoë, a somewhat silly expression on his face. Then, suddenly, he shouted: “Kill her!” “You should re-think that order!” Jayne appeared between the trees on the other side of the lawn, lovingly carrying Vera in his arms. “Instead, everybody should touch sky with his fingers!” Hesitating, all men raised their arms. "Can I shoot them?" Jayne asked, eyes shining with excitement. "Not quite yet", Zoë replied. “Are you all right, Captain?” Mal sighted. “Was about time, you were coming”, he said. “I was running out of topics of conversation.” He swayed and, as he had hoped, Inara came up to him to hold him steady. It felt so good; to lean against her, smell her unobtrusive but very female scent, feeling her small hand on his arm. Then he heard the reassuring sound of the mule as Wash drove onto the lawn. “Hop on, Captain!” All four climbed onto the vehicle, Zoë and Jayne without lowering the guns for even a moment. “Now, can I shoot them?” “No Jayne, no shootin’ for today.” “But Mal! That’s outright dumb!” "We should kill him, Sir!" even Zoë agreed, but Mal shook his head. "Nah!" he said with a contemptuous sound in his voice. "Can't take him that serious. He's just a spoiled rich kid, and you don't kill this kind. You just wait for their daddy to spank them. Step on it, Wash." “Wait!” Wing approached the mule. "Are you really running away like this? I had thought that you were a man of honour!" Mal looked him firmly in the eyes. "Well, I ain't", he said calmly. "I'm just a man." "Which is more, than can be said about you", Inara added. Then they headed of, Jayne’s face broadly smiling behind Vera in a firing position.

**********

“Just hold still!” Simon advised Mal, who was sitting on the berth in the overcrowded medic room. “It’s just a local anaesthetic, so don’t make me stick the needle outside the numb area.” He was sewing the cuts one after the other. “I still don’t understand”, Inara said, her arms crossed in front of her chest. “Didn’t Wing destroy the transmitter?” “That was just a gimmick out of Wash's toy spaceship”, Mal said. “Wasn’t of any use, besides gaining time and making Ath feel more secure.” “Well it was of use in my toy ship!” Wash countered. He took out a small device and, holding it towards the captain, pushed some buttons. “Too bad they destroyed it. A remote controlled captain would have been fun!” Inara was still confused. “So then, how could they find you?” “That was Simons Idea”, Kaylee smiled proudly. “We had those sensors which could find minerals and such. So he injected something into Mal, which they could sensor.” “It’s just a chemical”, Simon continued, in vain trying to appear modest. “A contrast medium used in the hospitals of the core planets for cellular examination. The specific isotope does not exist on this world. Kaylee found out how to adjust the Sensors to it, Wash flew a highly sophisticated search pattern, Jayne and Zoë loaded their guns and well, there we are!” Inara looked from one to the other and then a smile enlightened her face. "You were right, Mal", she said. "I should have had more trust in them." "Yep", he answered contently. "That's my crew!"

**********

Next morning, Mal and Inara were standing in the loading bay, where Jayne tied the re-packed box of Magistrate Bowden onto the mule. "You're sure, you want to go to this client of yours?" Mal asked. "Definitively", she answered. "I'm glad, that he agreed to postpone the appointment." Mal didn't look too happy. "Well, Jayne will bring you there, and he'll pick you up." She just loved this caring sound in his voice, so warm and familiar. It felt good to be surrounded by his attention, and sometimes, she wished, that she could dwell in it for ever, just letting herself fall into his love and be safe. But then, she reminded herself, that she was a companion, and that it was not possible for her, to tie herself emotionally to one single man. She had seen companions falling in love, had seen them breaking and she knew, that she had to stay strong and independent. She could never let herself slip. "I really don't think, that will be necessary, Mal", she said, shaking her head softly. "I think, it's necessary, and I'm the captain!" "But I'm not part of your crew", she reminded him, smiling. "Would you please do as I say? Just once?" She looked at him, then bowed her head graciously. "I appreciate your concern", she said. "Okay. Mal!" Jayne called over. "You can head off! Just glad to get this sick crap of the boat! I put a rifle next to your seat! Sure, me and Vera shouldn't come along?" "Thanks, Jayne, but no. Take good care of Inara!" He climbed onto the Mule and waving at Inara, he rode off. He crossed the docks, entered town, and left it, circling half around it through the countryside, finally stopping at Bowden’s Manor. The servants of the house unloaded the mule, while Mal greeted the Magistrate. “Ah, so I finally meet the famous Captain Reynolds” Bowden smiled, as they shook hands. “Your name has made quite a noise around the vicinity. Many think, you finally gave Atherton Wing, what he strongly deserved.” “Won’t argue with that”, Malcolm replied. “So I understand, you are still flying with Inara Serra?” the Magistrate chatted as he invited Mal with a gesture to follow him into the house. “I tend to think, she’s flying with me”, the captain corrected. “Serenity is still my ship. She just rented a shuttle.” They entered the hall, even more impressive than the one of Harrow Manor, and moved on to a room on the left, filled with shelves of books. Bowden opened a drawer on a wooden study, taking out a carved box. The rustling sound of paper and the rattle of coins was promising. “I would imagine this to be a business arrangement rather … unsatisfactory for you.” “Sorry?” The magistrate smiled. "I mean, being contractually attached to such a woman: beautiful, pleasing, able to fulfil every wish a man could ever have, being close to her day by day - but not being allowed, to touch her." Mel shrugged his shoulders, trying to look disinterested. "As you stated, our relationship is purely contractual. There is no other right, I have about her - or care to have. “I know. Guild law has very strict regulations on serving outside the client registry.” Bowden opened the box and took out some banknotes, sorting them carefully. “She could loose her registration, if she did otherwise. I guess it’s a matter of keeping up the standards.” Mal considered for a moment to take this remark as an offence, but then decided, not to. After all, it might not be too wise to be angry at a man, who was about to give him the money he owed him. Bowden stared thoughtfully down on the paper. "To see, how she goes off, serving other men, doesn't that make you jealous in a way?" "No more, then when another member of my crew does the same thing", Mal answered, not being able to keep the slightly impatient tone from his voice. "I must admire your self-control”, the magistrate continued. “I don't think, I could bear this, smelling her scent, living with her gracefulness, feeling her warmth besides my body and yet, not being able to …" "I think, I should get on my way", Mal interrupted. He had not the least desire to listen to any more of those words, describing some of his very feelings. Although it was not just her grace and her beauty, that he was thinking of. What came to his mind, when he thought about Inara, was her strength, so well hidden behind her tender body, her refined manners, her caring heart. Although she was used to mingle with rich and prominent people, she never thought it to be beneath her, to travel with the crew of Serenity. On the contrary: she was like a big sister for li'l Kaylee, was able to stand up to Jayne, laughed with Wash and created a homely feeling for everyone. He though about her insight into the human nature, her free thinking and the friendliness, that she offered to anyone, no matter which stand or profession he had – except, maybe, if he happened to be a spaceship captain renting her a shuttle. A nock sounded from the door and a servant entered. “Sir, Ms. Serra has arrived”, he announced and Mal felt the hairs of his neck stiffening up. “Ah, yes. Lead her into the lounge, please.” Bowden smiled as he handed the folded money over, and Malcolm had the impression, that there was something nasty in this smile. “It’s the price you agreed with Warwick”, the counsellor said. “I guess your vehicle is emptied by now, so I thank you for your assistance. You find your way out?” He shook Mal’s hand, giving the impression that he had to stay in the Library to finish some other task. “Yes, I do.” Mal gave Bowden a short nod, turned on his heels and left the room, but instead of heading back to the mule, he crossed the hall to the other side of the house. Bowden Manor had a very classical layout: Library to the left, Lounge to the right. When he entered, he found Inara waiting, admiring one of the pieces of art that decorated the walls. Without a word, he grabbed her elbow, pulling her towards the door. "Mal!” She extricated herself from his grip. "What are you doing?" "I'm not leaving you here with this Whoon dahn", he growled. "You're insulting my client, Mal!" "Am I? You would not like to stay here, if you had seen, what I have seen!" Inara stared at him with some astonishment, which slowly changed into indignation. "Didn't I state very clearly, that I do not wish you to interfere with my business – ever again?” "I ain't giving a good gorram about what you stated!” Mal hissed. "I'll be dammed, if I leave you here with him and let him do these things to you!" "These things?” she repeated surprised, but then her face lit up in understanding. "Oh Mal", she muttered, feeling that his passionate willingness to protect her began to erode the wall, she had built up so carefully. Falling in love - true love - was about the worst thing that could happen to a companion and Malcolm Reynolds was the only man, who had ever come close to endanger her in this regard. Luckily enough, his manners and his reluctance to let anyone come near the core of loneliness and pain hidden deep inside him had prevented a disaster until now. "There is nothing, he will do to me", she said softly, placing her hand on his arm, light like a feather. "If anyone, it's me who will do things to him." Malcolm stared at her, not uttering a single word. He turned half way, stared against the wall without seeing anything, then turned back to her. “Oh”, he stated, nothing more. Inara could not prevent a smile creeping up her cheeks. He was so cute, when he was baffled. “You enjoy doing that?” he asked, after he had regained his speech. “Sometimes”, she nodded, barely being able to conceal, how amused she was. “Well, then I guess I can be glad that you refused servicing crew – and captain, coming to speak of it.” And then he smiled. Oh, how much she loved that smile. It was as sweet and enjoyable as strawberries with cream, and it was about as rare. It made the blue of his eyes lighten up, their corners all crinkled. It softened the features of his face until he looked like a boy, not like the man he was, who had gone trough war and atrocities. It opened the small, hidden door in the rampart he had built around his soul, allowing a short glimpse onto the real self, he once had been, and he still could have been without the war, without Serenity Valley. At moments, when she dared to acknowledge her own feelings, she wished that she could be a garden for him, where this smile could grow and blossom all year long, where it could ripen under a sun of friendliness and security, until he had found his way back to innocence and confidence. But then she knew that this was a vain wish. There was no way, anyone could help him, as long as he did not let go of this pain that he clang on to like to a life belt. He was convinced that it kept him alive, that he would tumble and die, if he ever loosened this grip. But she knew better. She knew, that it was this pain that kept him from truly living.

End