NOTES: Written for my friend Val as a stocking-stuffer in the fandom_stocking Christmas gifting for 2009. I hope she enjoyed it!
Tea For Two
The scented curl of steam rises up from over the bowl of the cup, delicately unfolding in the air over the lacquer table.
Inara enjoys the formality of the tea ceremony - peace and quiet, a time away from the hustle and bustle of life, whether on-planet, or on Serenity. And there's a comfort - a hominess - to the shuttle that she's missed all those long months when she was at the chapterhouse. The hum of the engines, the whisper of life-support, the noise of the ship that took her less than a day to grow accustomed to once she was back on board the transport. The rhythms of life at the chapterhouse ebbed and flowed, but she grew accustomed to Serenity's sharp changes of direction, the situations they were caught in, the crazy ways they'd get out of it.
The man responsible for the insanity of the ship sits opposite from her, hands on his knees, watching Inara as she picks up the glazed china and holds it out to him, a hospitality offering. He can't see the tension in her shoulders, the churning in her belly, but she's well-trained and one of the best at what she does.
Their fingers don't quite brush as she hands him the cup. "Careful, it's hot."
Inara almost smiles at the look he shoots her. Almost. Her training takes over - the legendary elegance and grace of a Companion, even where she doesn't need it. She brings up her own cup and takes the requisite three sips from it, watches as Mal does the same.
"So, now do we talk about the weather?" A wry twist shapes his mouth, and her own lips twitch.
"We talk about anything you wish to talk about."
"Is that Companion-speak for letting the guest go on about whatever's on his mind?"
"Maybe."
"See, now that's definitely polite Companion-speak." He puts the cup down. "What's this for, Inara? All this frou-fraw ain't necessary to talk to me."
Actually, it is. But it's something she needs rather than anything to get him in the right mood. The truth is, Mal unbalances her, throws her off-kilter. Inara recognises that - just as she recognises that the ceremony is a way for her to deal with him in a setting over which she has a certain control - however tenuous that control might be in the face of Mal Reynolds and the way he spins her around.
"I want to stay on Serenity."
"Didn't need a tea-ceremony to ask that. Of course you can stay."
He says it like it's a done deal. Maybe it is, to him.
It's more difficult for Inara. That's why she set up the tea ceremony - the time of peace and quiet and gracious hospitality.
And maybe she wants Mal to accept who she is, what she is, where she is. The tea-ceremony is a part of that: a part of the veneer of civility that lies over them, over their lives. It's a formality, a tradition - the taking of tea, like the ancient eating of salt. It's a shared table, a shared purpose, a question of trust and companionship that has nothing to do with her calling.
Mal shifts, endearingly awkward. "Well, if that's all, I got things to be doing around the ship--"
Once, Inara would have said, "Of course," and let him go.
Things have changed.
"Please, stay."
Mal just looks at her - that long, measuring look that indicates he's not as stupid as he makes out to be and which sees more than she wishes he did. And in spite of Inara's training in poise, comportment, and politeness, she can feel her cheeks flushing as she holds his gaze.
But he picks up the cup again and sips it with a wry smile - at both her and himself, she's fairly certain - Inara feels a tension go out of her shoulders.
- fin-