My first story, written on a whim during a three hour car ride- I was bored. Probably not that good, but I enjoyed writing it, so what the hey, I decided to post it.
Inara watched him from the walkway. He was supervising the unloading of their current cargo, standing off to the side as Wash and Jayne carried the heavy boxes off the ship. As the two men staggered off with the last of the boxes, he walked over to the top of the ramp, hands shoved deep into in his pockets. Inara decided to make her presence known, and she slowly walked down the stairs and across the cargo bay, stopping at the top of the ramp next to him. Below them, Wash had left Jayne to stack the last box, and was talking to Zoë. Meanwhile, River and Kaylee had ganged up on Simon, and were teasing him, judging by the brilliant red hue of his face.
"Poor Simon, he's outnumbered." She remarked in what she hoped was a casual voice, refusing to look at the man beside her.
"He'll survive. He always does." He said, leaning against the side of the hatch.
At this, she turned her head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, thinking that it couldn't possibly hurt. She was wrong. At the sight of his hair being brushed back by the breeze, she felt the familiar drop in the pit of her stomach. She forced herself to stay still when he turned to look at her, an easy smile on his face. She gave him a small smile in return, before turning back to the outside world.
"Are you sure this is a good idea? Prudence has tried to shoot you- on multiple occasions." She said, gently goading him.
"Everyone has to make a fuss." He said rolling his eyes.
"You do seem to have some bad luck when it comes to her." She said, turning fully to face him head on. She was momentarily frozen by blue, and it took her a moment to shake off the effects of the unexpected eye contact. She was surreptitiously trying to regain her breath when he replied.
"I have bad luck in everything, period. It's even in my name." He said, shrugging.
"Ah, yes, how did River phrase it? I believe it went something like 'bad in the Latin'" She quirked an eyebrow in his general direction, carefully avoiding eye contact.
"Yeah, yeah." He said, waving at her lazily as he walked down the ramp. She marveled by how the light seemed to turn his brown hair bronze. The illusion was lost, however, when he tripped at the bottom and went sprawling into the dust. Inara couldn't help it- she laughed. One day, she might tell him her feelings, but until then, she was content teasing him about his name and laughing at him as he made a fool of himself.
After all, Mal is bad in the Latin.