Firefly, obviously, Mal/Inara. The lyrics are from the song Justify by The Rasmus. If you haven't heard it, I highly recommend you do—it's lovely. I recently saw the episode Heart of Gold, and I'll be honest, it depressed the hell out of me, especially when Inara was crying. That could be because I love the idea of her and Mal together so much. The entire time I was going "NO! He's with the wrong girl!" Anyway.

Justify

So close, so far, I'm lost in time…
Ready to follow a sign…
If there was only a sign…

This late at night, when Serenity is so quiet that all you can hear are the sounds of silence and gravity, this is when one can be overwhelmed, easily, by what they try not to feel. When everyone is awake, at least, when there are people to be distracted by, jobs to throw yourself into, these things cannot touch you. Nothing can. But here, now, in the black, in the dark, it does more than touch him. His vocabulary might not be the vastest in the 'Verse, but colorful words like consume, ravage, and ambush come to mind anyway. At any rate, in whatever terms you care to put it, Malcolm Reynolds is getting no sleep tonight.

The last goodbye burns in my mind
Why did I leave you behind?
Guess it was too high to climb…

That could be because every time he shuts his eyes, all he can see is the look on her face when he'd stumbled out of Nandi's room days before. She is by nature a composed, harmonious person—but no one is that good. Even if it had lasted less than a second, the brief flicker of shock and something else had spoken for her, at least before she'd shaken it off and replaced it with the calm he knew so well. He's lost track of how many times he has aimed to hurt her, be it through going too far in his banter, barging into her shuttle uninvited, all those backhanded comments—and every single time, that was all he had ever seen. Eyes like the sunrise, always reflecting the same general meaning, even when he really tried to let her have it, the most he could get out of her was minor displays of annoyance. Even then, she was so level, so peaceful. Her voice is the definition of unconditional patience, like she just knows one day, if she waits long enough, he might finally grow up. At this, he laughs. The last conversation they had had was a strained one about the fact that she is leaving. If he ever changes, she will be gone before she gets the chance to see it.

Give me a reason
Why would you want me to live and die
Living a lie?
You are the answer, all that I needed to justify,
Justify my life

Sometimes, he has to wonder why he does what he does. Not that he means to most of the time, and besides…! Inara, to him, is strength, is fortitude, unbreakable. He can say anything, do anything—even when he's trying to hurt her, she never falters. Never.

But she had, hadn't she? The one time he wasn't intending to cause her pain, he did. The second he'd begun stammering and desperately making excuses for what he'd very obviously just done, it had hit him. He had finally gotten to her. And after all, doesn't everyone want to tear down the Great Wall, just to see that despite its unyielding resilience, it can be done? Mal has seen, in the slightest flicker of absolute pain, that even Inara can be broken. He has accomplished in one night what he never could in months, years, of trying to get that kind of rise out of her. He hates it, and as he slides off his mattress, Nandi of all people echoes through his mind.

"I ain't her, you know."

He knew she wasn't her. Always.

Someone as beautiful as you
Could do much better, it's true
That didn't matter to you
I tried so hard to be the one
It's something I couldn't do
Guess I was under the gun

He's not even sure where he's headed anymore, yet his footsteps are certain. They lead him up, down, around, until he's treading softly past her doorway and into the gentle lights of her candles and lanterns. He's not allowed in here, never has been. After what he's done to her, that should go double. It does, but he ignores it.

Her screen is off, seat vacant—no clients tonight, apparently. He's half-certain that any second, she's going to realize he's here and come storming from her bathroom, firing obscenities, telling him to get out of her shuttle—but she won't. He knows this now, because she is neither in her bathroom nor awake. She is lying, facing skyward on her bed, one arm under her head, the other thrown across her torso. Breathing deep and even, her eyelashes rest on her cheeks, mouth set in a contemplative, quiet manner. Mal knows that if there was ever a time for him to turn around and walk out, it would be now.

He doesn't.

Give me a reason
Why would you want me to live and die
Living a lie?
You are the answer, all that I needed to justify
Justify my life
It's only right
That I should go and find myself
Before I go and ruin someone else

Inara and beautiful are one and the same. If anything, she is Serenity personified. He's always thought so, but seeing her this way strikes rather a different chord in him. She looks complacent, breathing in and out so very softly, and for one shining moment he is happy because this is the one place he can't harm her. When he gets closer and sees tearstains, his heart stops, and he realizes that even in her sleep, he can—he is. She draws a halting breath, and he drops to his knees beside her. Now he is desperate and has absolutely no idea how to do anything about it.

"'Nara…" he whispers pleadingly, knowing that she does not hear him. "I am so sorry, 'Nara." Mal reaches to brush stray hair out of her closed eyes, and it dawns on him that this is the only way he will ever be able to tell her what he denies to everyone else, himself included.

"But it could never work, you're just so far out of my league…I could never, ever hope to deserve someone like you, so I go for things I can reach—it wasn't to hurt you, it wasn't, I promise, but gorramit, I love you, it kills me…" Incoherent as it is spilling out in his lower-than-low voice, this is also the only way it can ever make sense. Malcolm Reynolds has an unconventional way with words, and he goes on like this, over and over, until he's spent and the only thing left to say is "please don't go". It comes out so lightly even he does not hear it.

So close, so far
I'm lost in time
Ready to follow a sign
If there was only a sign…

She stirs, and like lightning, he's outside, in the hall, up the stairs, in his bed again. He doesn't remember when leaving begins and arriving ends, but it is like he never left.

Mal is conscious of a surprising number of things. He is a pirate, a rogue, a thief, he knows. There aren't enough names in the book to call him. To some, he appears to have no moral standing. Go so far as to call him a heathen, like that preacher-man likely does, he could care less. He has heard it all before. Mal is well aware of what he is, always has been, never minded. He has killed, stolen, lied—all with no regrets.

But here, alone, he also knows he has in one fell swoop shattered the only heart that ever mattered to him, though up till now he would have died before admitting it. He has never, never hated himself more than he does right now.

Give me a reason, why would you want me to live and die
Living a lie?
You are the answer; all that I needed to justify
Justify my life

By the time he wakes up, he senses it. Even before descending to the kitchen where almost everyone is gathered, Mal knows she is gone. Just to be sure, in case his perception is somehow off, he half-runs across his ship. No one hears him. His thoughts are confirmed when he reaches what should be familiar ground and finds it empty. Her shuttle is likely halfway back to Sihnon by now, and he finds himself hoping that she will be the one not to look back. For the longest time, he stands there. He doesn't speak, nor does he think—only breathes.

It's only right
That I should go and find myself
Before I go and ruin someone else

After what seems like forever, he turns to leave.

No one besides Mal will ever know that in letting her go, in losing his Serenity, he has finally done something right.