Set smack dab between parts 2 & 3 of the fic Four As well as generally follows and progresses on the events of- He's Fightin' the War Right Now Xiăo Guĭ Littlest Victories I Like Drawing Cephalopods

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It’s always the small stuff.

Mal’s sure of it as he shoves Simon onto the ground and fires in the general direction the bolts of energy whizzing around them are coming from. The small stuff, the paltry little things one could smuggle in a purse, are always worth the most. You could steal a gorram longhorn and not get more than a few gunshots, but a shiny metal coffer the size of your palm? Kiss your existence goodbye, you’ll probably get the whole Federal Marine Corps coming after you. The only exception to the rule of course is that girl sized box he picked up two years ago. That was a might unusual, life changing one could say. Still he adheres to the smaller the package, the more troublesome. So he’s not entirely surprised when Simon crawls across the white linoleum, types a code into a pad, unlocks a safe and pulls a black case out that looks like a fancy shoebox.

Still...

“That’s it?” He balks, one side of his mouth curls up, as if to snarl at it in detest for being so troublesome. It’s been a long day, a really long day. The kind of day where nothing goes right and if you don’t get shot, you reward yourself with a fifth of something fancy.

“Yep.” Simon’s doe eyed, like if you shined a light on him you could easy hit the boy with an object and end his ass. Mal would’ve given him a gun, but the last time that happened it didn’t end well for Jayne’s foot.

“You sure?!” Suddenly the med ship rocks, like a giant child has seized it and is waving it in the air all willy nilly. They fly into some bullet proof glass, which only cracks before they fall to the ground. Red flames belch out and the metal walls groan with stress. The heat hits like a wave, licking them all over and making the sweat flow. Smells like war, charred flesh and all. Doesn’t sound like much though. “Jayne...” He moans, picking himself up. His ears ring and everything gets dense, like they’re underwater all of a sudden. Hot, boiling water. Gorram Jayne.

“Huh?!” The doc’s deaf too.

“YOU SURE THAT”S THE RIGHT ONE?!” Mal pantomimes a his words out to get the point across. The room’s lights change color. Suddenly everything’s red and the big fancy monitor above the door is flashing in calligraphy the ship needs to be evacuated. He's pretty sure the system is hollerin' at them too, but that hearing business still isn't working too well.

“Oh.... YEAH IT’S THE RIGHT ONE.” The room fills with thick black smoke from the blast and his words trail off into a cough.

Mal smacks his tongue around in his mouth. The smoke’s mixed with saliva, leaving a tar-like substance sticking to everything. Grabbing Simon by the silk of his vest, he makes sure he doesn’t lose the poor Doc on the way out. Dragging his ward along, he plunges into the cloud without any hesitation. Stumbling out the hatch, he finds the wall of the corridor and pushes a shoulder against it. Keeping against the wall, he ventures further, thanking the god he doesn’t believe in for when his hearing returns. Suddenly he’s got a better view of his surroundings, he can hear the hundan a few feet away. Working his way forward, he keeps his gun extended out.

“Mal?! Mal whats?!”

“Shuddup.” He grunts. Seeing a navy cap nearby, Mal swings his gun blindly and hits air.

“Whaaat?!”

“Shuddup or you’ll lead them to us!” He hisses, swinging wildly once more, and clipping a security guard in the head finally. His boot trips over a part of someone, and he nearly goes down with the cow eyed doc in tow, however Mal corrects himself. The floor’s sticky, and now that his ears are back it sounds gooey, suctiony, and he’s glad he can’t see why. Suddenly the wall feels the same, and he can’t help but cringe.

“Wo de ma...” Simon sounds shocked. That really isn’t a rare occurrence for the boy in situations like these. You’d think he’d get used to the unexpected, but every once in awhile he sees something that makes him goggle like startled livestock. This time it’s bicuspids lodged in metal.

“MAL!” Jayne yelps. “MAL GORRAMIT WHERE ARE YOU!?”

“Cao. Wǒ chuí xuán wǒ-de gōng de nèi-gè yú-bèn de yāo-guài.” Finally they get out of the smoke. Jayne and Zoe are there, out of breath with bodies and parts scattered around them.

“Sir, you two alright?” Zoe asks. She’s glistening with sweat, looking like Athena; tall, muscular, warlike, possibly able to castrate a man just by lookin’ at him.

“We’ll survive.” It’s more of a flinging Simon forward and releasing than letting him go. Turning, Mal eyes the big merc, who’s got a big bloody spot where an ear used to be. “Jayne throw a grenade?”

“Your alive, ain’t no need to gripe.” He snipes.

“Ohhhh, there will be much griping, later.” Mal sniffs. “Let’s get in the shuttle and leave before we get some more attention.”

“Where’s.... your ear?” Simon asks. He’s smeared black, but the whites of his eyes are huge as he stares at Jayne’s stump.

“Lost it in a tussel... kinda hurts.” Stopping, he throws open the shuttle’s hatch. His muscles bulge like they’re gonna pop the sleeves off of his tee. “You get what you need Doc?”

“We’re good.” Mal answers before Simon can. “Just get us the hell outta here.”

~~~

The captain’s bunk, the space he took back when Zoe said she couldn’t live in it anymore, is the only bunk that has its own shower. The wash station is set into the bulkhead, hidden by a sliding panel that needs a little elbow grease to get open. A little rust aside, it’s the nicest thing on the whole ship. A bonafide hot shower all to one’s self.

Standing under the steaming water, he freezes mid rinse at the sound of his hatch door opening. Before he stripped, he had put a lock on his door, and only someone knowing the code could get in. “H’llo?” Mal blurts, nervous and confused as to who else would know the pass code. Seeing the delicate little shoes come down the ladder, he suddenly remembers who he did brief with such high level information.

The silk slippers are followed by an equally lush skirt, then the rest of the dress, and finally the arms and head of Inara. Once on the floor, she stops and turns to face him. She makes him hold his breath. The way those brown eyes slowly languish up his body, making him feel somewhat like something coveted. How she pauses, not blushing, but obviously piqued, perhaps wanting. “I’m...” she has to make her eyes find his face. “I‘m sorry for the intrusion.”

“Oh.” His hand finds the knob, and he shuts the water off. “It uh... it’s fine. I was just getting out.” Mal gropes for his towel, and after a few blind tries, finally gets it. Bringing it to his face to begin drying off, he catches something. It’s an instant, a fraction os a second where her eyes flicker and her mouth twitches. Betraying her composure and training. It makes something in his chest do a little flutter as the thought of sharing a bathe with the companion fills his head with all sorts of naughty things.

“Ah, well...” Inara slowly moves away from the shower, fingers fussing with the sash of her robe.

“What’s the occasion for company?” Something keeps him from drying off quick, covering up and all. Perhaps it’s because she’s seen him naked as Adam already. He takes his sweet time though. “I mean... not that an occasion is ever needed.”

“I wanted to tell you thank you, for taking the time to go get the treatment for Hannah.” She wanders towards the bed, toying with the sash, eyeing all of him.

“It was nothin’.” Mal runs the towel drown his legs, stealing a glance at her, gauging her. “Simon approached me, told me what was what.”

“You didn’t have to, considering it was across the system.” Inara’s keeping her composure, though his protracted toweling sessions makes the pit of her belly hot.

“Your girl needed it to get offa all those machines. Speaking of, how is she?” Tossing the towel in a wicker basket, he pads nakedly over to his desk.

“Al...alright...” Inara tries in vain not to look at his ass, she loses the battle though as he turns to face away from her. “Kaylee rigged the flatscreen she fixed up and watched a movie with them.” Her head tilts slightly to the side when he leans all his weight on one leg.

Swiping a pair of cotton pants from the top of his desk, he slides them on.“Let me guess, a beautiful young rim girl moves to the big core, bumbles into some fancy core boy, they’re attracted to one n’other, through a series of trials and tribulations she tries to refine herself but in the end he says he wants her just as she is?” Pulling the pants up, he ties the drawstring and turns around.

“So you’ve watched it a few times?” Inara muses, her eyes are narrowed lustily.

Mal bites his lip, she’s starin’ at him like he’s some kind of delicious confection to devour.“That girl’s gotta dozen movies, each nearly the same as the last. Which explains a lot when ya think about her and that Doctor.”

“Hmm, I’m sure.” She pats the seat next to her.

Pausing, he assesses the moment before moseying over. “Somethin’ tells me you got something up those silken sleeves.”

“No sleeves exactly, I have something in my pocket.” She extracts a small blue bottle as he takes a seat.

“And what on earth is that pray tell?” he watches her unscrew the cap, licking his lips when he catches a whiff of her scent. She’s sweet and tangy, an exotic fruit from a far away world. It makes him want to bury his nose in her hair and nibble her all over. Mal doesn’t though, he takes a deep breath and leans in.

“A particular massage oil.” Putting a few drops into her palm, she caps the bottle and sets it aside before rubbing the oil through her fingers. “It helps with sore muscles, however they’ve been accumulated.”

He watches her take his arm, working up to his shoulder. “Oh... You um... you don’t have to...”

“You’re horribly out of alignment.” She tisks. “Lay down.”

“Nara..”

“Down. On your stomach.”

Mal doesn’t flap his mouth anymore. Swinging his legs up, he twists and lays down on belly first. Suddenly she repositioning him, tugging a leg here and an arm there. “Hey!” Before he can gripe about being manhandled, she jerks his head one way and presses down on his spine at the same time. Something pops, startling him, but with it comes blissful relief. Nothing aches, not joints nor muscles, and he lets out a sigh. “Wow... that... that was.... a wow.” She procedes to massage his back, the heels of her palms working into his skin, smoothing out knots he’s been carrying for some time.

“You’ve been needing a massage for awhile.” She tells him.

“Well, when I have the money I’ll look into hiring a masseur.” He yawns, feeling like butter under her fingers.

A beat passes, it’s one of those awkward ones that makes his fidget. Inara’s figures out something to say though.. “Do you have new quilt on your bed?”

“What’s so big news about that?”

“Nothing... it’s just you used to have army blankets.”

“Oh... well I found it in a market on Phoros. Liked it, was cheap.” Mal shrugs.

“It’s soft.”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t say he remembers her telling him the wool troop issue blankets were a little scratchy. Or that he just lied about it being cheap. Wetting his lips he steers the topic away from his patchwork bedspread. “It’s nice to see ya, y’know. Since you took in those little wayward babes you’ve been downstairs worryin’ away at their sides.”

“You could come down and see them, keep me company. Lila’s not as fussy as she has been in the past, but she still wakes from time to time.”

“I’d scare ‘em.” He keep from groaning in ecstasy, telling himself she can manhandle him any time.

“I doubt that. You’re not as frightening looking as you think.”

“Funny. How is the littlest, beyond being not so fussy?”

“Far better than Hannah. She’s growing right now, which is why she still wakes.”

“So she’s gettin’ big huh?”

“Simon says she needs to gain a little more weight, but she is. Nearly grown out of all of the clothes I just bought her. And she’s three months now.” Her voice carries wonder. “It’s been a month since they came on board, and they’ve both come so far.”

“Cause’a you.” His cheek rests on his quilt and his fingers lazily curl against his palms all content like.

“And Simon. I can’t take all the credit.” Her hands slide down his back, working the groups of muscles with expertise. “I suppose River as well.”

“That so.” her hands are on his ass now. Though it’s brief, she starts working down his left thigh, and it doesn’t help his concentration much.

“They’ve grown very close, and I think having a friend has given Hannah a brighter spark.” Her voice is fond talking about her child as she kneads his calf. “River’s gotten her to talk, and draw, they’ve even picked up playing Tall Card.”

“S’good.” He nearly groans as she’s at his foot, rolling her thumbs into the arch. “Good River’s gotta friend too. She needed company of a similar age.”

“I agree. She’s much more cogent when they’re together, happier too.” Inara grabs his other foot and starts up the next leg.

“So when does Simon start giving Hannah those meds?”

“Soon he says. He’s reading the information on the disk right now. Apparently what is in the box are only sample and not full doses, but he’s positive he can replicate it.”

“Good, good. And she’ll be fixed?”

“I’ve been told all of the damaged tissue will be replaced and she’ll be as good as new, barring a medication she’ll need to take every day for the rest of her life.”

“Hmm.” She’s back up to his thigh again, and wo de ma.... Mal reaches out and takes her hand, making her stop. Try as he might, he can’t keep it at bay.

She can see he’s all lusty eyed. Leaning in she kisses him.

She tastes good. The kiss doesn’t quench his thirst as much as it awakens it. Suddenly Mal’s feet swing back down and he’s seated upright, his hands taking her by the waist and pulling her close. He groans as she slides herself onto his lap, her knees splayed and resting on the mattress. Pulling away from her mouth he kisses her chest and hums. “So uh....” He kisses and nips at her skin, nibbling and listening to a throaty giggle. It’s a good spot he knows, it makes her toes curl.

Inara runs her fingers through his hair and rocks her hips forward, getting a groan for her efforts. “I take it the massage was a little too much.” It’s more of a statement than a question as her arms drop and she pulls her skirts out of the way.

“Just a touch.” He’s managed to unbutton the front of her top with one hand, the other at her back to keep her steady. As he’s relishing her breasts, milky and smooth, suddenly he feels her working the open fly of the pants to free him. “Should we do this?”

She stops, pulling away so his face is exposed and she can look down at his eyes.

Mal licks his lips, liking the way she feels in his hands. “Last time we did this, well...” They didn’t talk to one another for a week. He just didn’t want to say that. “We gotta knack for good sex and pissin’ each other off.”

Inara tugs at the hem of his pants, giving him the sweetest of kisses. Nuzzling him, she rests her forehead against his. “I know. But I need you right now, all of you.”

He lets out a shuddered breath. A delicate hand is down his pants to emphasize the ‘all of you’ part. Lord Almighty, she can get her words across.

She pecks his lips, breathing against them. “I’ll stay.”

“Promise?” Slipping his hand down he squeezes her ass. He can’t help but roll his pelvis forward in anticipation, making his back arch and his breathing become even more labored. Want is an understatement now.

“Only leave if my baby needs me.” She kisses.

“Well then.” his eyes drop to her breasts, then lower where the rest of the dress hugs her. Tilting his head back up, he plants a kiss on the slender neck before whispering. “We gotta get you naked.”

She laughs against his temple a his hands are suddenly frantic. “You as well.”

-fin-

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TRANSLATIONS/DEFINITIONS

hundan: bastard

Wo de ma: Mother of god

Cao. Wǒ chuí xuán wǒ-de gōng de nèi-gè yú-bèn de yāo-guài.: Fuck. I am going to hang that stupid monster on my bow.

A/N: Honest Comments are always appreciated.