A/N: Written for Livejournal's ficsimplicity community, with the prompt of "suitcase." Drabble, MalxInara. Right at the end of the series.
Suitcase
-irishais-
He wanted to tell her a million things, the most important of them being, "Don't go," but Mal couldn't find the words. Couldn't bring himself to say them–the words just didn't want to leave his mouth.
Inara moved gracefully, almost sedately as she packed her things, ignoring him very deliberately because she couldn't bring herself to tell him to go away. The suitcase was almost full.
"You–take care out there, y'hear?"
She nodded, briefly. "I'll be fine, Mal. I promise."
"Right. That's good, then."
Neither of them said what they were really thinking.
Don't pack that suitcase. Don't you gorram leave me here.
Don't ask me to stay, because I can't handle you stringing me along.
Inara clicked shut the latches of her case. "I'll send a wave," she murmured finally. "I know–"
"Kaylee'll want to keep in touch."
"...Right." A pause. "Mal?"
"Uh-huh?"
"Thanks. For everything." She smiled faintly, and it felt like his world got torn in half. Don't go, don't go, don't go.
He gave her a half-hearted jerk of his head and walked out of the shuttle.
"Shiny, Cap'n?" Kaylee stared at him curiously.
No.
She confused things, she turned his world awry. It would be better when she was gone, he knew. Pretended to know, anyway. "We ready to fly?"
"As soon as you give the word, Cap'n."
"Let's go."
The sooner he got Inara and her gorram suitcase off his ship, the better.