Dawn
Rated: PG
Category: Mal/Inara
Spoilers: None
Summary: What Happens When Mal Realizes Inara Is More Like Him Than He Knows?
Note: Written in response to the LJ prompt of 'Flower' on ff_friday.
---
Malcolm Reynolds was more comfortable in darkness than in daylight.
Darkness provided cover.
Cover for attacks and retreats in the time or war.
Cover for youthful indiscretions before that.
And cover for his true self now.
No one could see a flinch or a shiver, or lack of both, in poor light.
No one could tell that he wasn't quite so hard as he let on most times, but that sometimes he was even harder, in the dim light of the black.
The black was perpetual night, and that's why Mal loved it so.
It kept his secrets.
Always had.
Until now.
A little whiskey, a little look, a little slip of fabric, and a lot of pain had stripped the safety of darkness away from him. He was exposed. Laid open in the sun for all to see.
Only one other was present, but see she did.
She saw, she accepted, she reciprocated, and Malcolm Reynolds learned how very wrong he'd been about Inara Serra in the instant her mouth crushed against his.
He'd always thought of her as a night-blooming flower; exotic, delicate, intoxicating, and flawlessly perfect.
But flowers are not the only things that bloom at night.
Night is when the demons come, too.
Night is when one is alone; when fear and pain and loneliness make their stand; when control flies out the nearest airlock.
Night is when most flowers close their petals to await the next rays of sun; when no one notices their ugliness; when they must curl into themselves for protection against the cold.
As Inara stumbled against Mal in the galley, madly reaching for him with little grace, he kissed her back, knowing for the first time that he and Inara were the same.
Her blooms were showier, but they were still fragile, daytime things. Blooms that, like his, hid in the darkness but could not really live in it; flowers that could blossom again only when dawn came.
Mal grinned at his realization, causing Inara to break away from him.
"Mal?" Her voice was hesitant and unsure. Mal looked into her eyes and saw stark terror there. Inara was completely still for one second, then she cleared her throat and started to back away from Mal, smoothing the front of her gown as she did so.
Mal shook his head. "Uh-uh."
Inara's eyebrows knit together and she repeated her question. "Mal?"
Mal shook his head again. "Not this time."
He reached one hand out to grab Inara's wrist and pulled her to him.
It had been dark far too long.
It was time for dawn to come.
