A/N: Inspired by the song 'Kill' by Jimmy Eat World.
And, as usual, x-posted on LJ and I'm still worried about how I got Mal, but here it is. This is one of my first forays into writing any Firefly fanfiction, so bear with me a little! Thanks, and enjoy!
Always Been the Easy Kill
With a fierce intent on pain, Inara hurled a shirt into the packing crate. Then she paused and took a deep breath to regain herself after she let her anger get the better of her. It didn't happen often, but when it did it was usually because of one Malcolm Reynolds.
She sighed, smoothing her pale skirt unnecessarily. She had to go. She had to.
Why? Whispered that obnoxious little voice that sounding astoundingly like a certain petty thief. Why do you have to go?
If only he'd say that to me, she thought. Kneeling gracefully to fold the blouse again, she used the moment of organization to second-guess her decision. Again.
Her limbs ached as she thought of Mal – hard, tough Mal Reynolds – about to open up to her. After all these months of tension, of banter…but as he had been speaking she had never been more terrified in her life.
So she had ended it before it could begin.
She told herself it was House rules. No attachments, no feelings. Certainly no love, not that she was in love with Mal. Of course not. She told herself she wasn't. No, it was rules. She simply stayed inside the rules, he did not. Their worlds could never meet.
And yet here she was, on Serenity, the only place she felt truly at home, this ship that she loved, and their worlds met. Not necessarily well or neatly, but they melded and mixed as well as they could.
Her eyes drifted to the walls of her shuttle, bare grey now that her deep-colored silks had been taken down. It was strange, that she should love a ship so much; it was just metal parts, after all. But somehow it seemed like there was a beating heart inside the metal walls that made them warm.
Mal, whispered that voice, but she pushed it away. In truth, it wasn't just Mal that was the heart. The entire crew made up the heart, though Mal was certainly at the center of it.
With an aggravated sigh, she tossed a book haphazardly in a box. Then, staring at it, she was struck with inspiration.
That damn man would not be rid of her. She'd be gone, technically, but she would leave something behind…
Smiling a little deviously, she picked a medium-sized box and pulled it out. She put in her black trouser-gold kimono outfit (it smelled intensely of her incense) and a strange leather outfit a client had bought her once. It was a little odd but leather and revealing, so she would leave it to tease his mind. She also set down her bolt thrower, gently, knowing she wouldn't need it wherever she was going. A blue sundress went in next, followed by a few odd sundries and other lovely smelling things. With a sigh she shut the box, staring at it. Then she scoffed.
"What am I doing?" she said softly, and bent to unpack the box.
"Talkin' to yourself?"
She jerked upright as Mal entered her shuttle, her entire body tense as a bowstring. He was standing by the door, arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows raised. He was standing in that easy-going, loose-shouldered way he did when he was incredibly tense. Inara sighed mentally. As mysterious as this man was, she was good enough to know that he tried too hard to seem at ease. When his face was that relaxed, his eyes that calm, he was wired.
"Of course not, Captain. You're just hearing things." Her reply was flippant, but she didn't want to talk to him. It hurt too much.
"Been known to happen," he conceded. "Not often, but sometimes." He was trying to joke, and Inara took a deep breath to swallow her pounding heart. She turned and began to fold items of clothing again to give herself something to do. After some silence, Mal cleared his throat. "All set, then? We'll be on Beaumonde in less than 24 hours. You're getting a transport from there to the training house, dui le?"
"Wie," she replied shortly, hoping he would leave. That was the whole point of this, wasn't it? To get as far away from Malcolm Reynolds as possible?
"You oughtta be extra careful with those transport ships. Never know what you could get into. All sorts of trouble."
She rolled her eyes and then turned to him. "I can handle myself perfectly well, Mal. And Serenity is sometimes a transport ship; is she an exception to the rule?"
"Nope. My point exactly." He grinned, and pain lanced up her arms and into her chest. She remembered a night some time ago, right before they had run out of gas, when he had smirked at her like that. It made her stare for a moment before she turned away again.
"Hm," was all she could manage. Silence again fell in the small space, and Inara held her breath, waiting for him to leave. He didn't, though, and instead began to walk aimlessly, glancing at her things.
"So, a training house for whores, huh?" He said it casually but she glared at him.
"Mal – "
"What do they ask you to do there, I reckon? Train legions of new whores, the art of lying. Wiles."
The man had called her a whore countless times. Why did it always hurt so much? She clenched her jaw and ignored it.
"Mal, you have no right – "
"Damn right," he interrupted. They stared at each other for a long breath, frozen. Inara marveled at the emotion behind his blue eyes, her heart thudding in her chest. "No right at all."
Every nerve in her body was on fire, her instincts telling her, despite all the pain and stupidity, to go to him. Both of them seemed unwilling to move, unable to move. She took an unsteady breath.
And then he turned and walked away. When he left the shuttle, Inara sat shakily on one of the boxes, taking deep breaths. She would not cry. She would not. She was leaving. Leaving because of that man and how he infuriated her. Because he was too strong and too protective and too true. Because there was the promise of something in the air, and it terrified her too much.
She stood and slowly began to pack again.
She left one box.