Author's note: So wow I decided to do a sequel cause I got enough inspiration. Thanks to anyone who reviewed and asked for a sequel. This one is sort of violent (I guess?) so be weary, and I apologize if characters seem a bit OOC

Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly or any of its characters

Vigilance: The Horns

"You ever heard a saying about a bull?" With a gag in his mouth the man could only grunt in frustration. He pulled harder at his restraints, his breath coming short and quick through his nostrils. The chair thumped violently on the floor. The other man paid no attention to him, choosing instead to polish the knife he held.

"No?" the man teased. He put a foot up on the chair and rested his elbow on his knee. "Well, they say that if you mess with the bull, you get the horns." His voice was almost cheerful, his face playful. He poked the tip of the knife with his finger to test its sharpness. Without warning he twirled it in his hand and brought it up to his hostage's cheek, all manner of joking gone. He brought his face close to the other man, their noses just inches apart.

"You messed with the bull. Here are the tā mā de horns." The man stared up in terror. He let out a muffled cry as the knife was pulled away from his face, slicing the flesh. His captor stood tall, face wild and livid. The man seethed for a few moments, then abruptly kicked the chair over. The bound man's head slammed into the ground and he let out another cry. He kept his eyes closed but heard the other man's footsteps and heard him kneel down. He felt a hand on his face, forcing his eyes open.

"This ain't gonna be no short affair. I intend to make you suffer long and hard." His voice was fierce but did not shake with anger. Still it struck fear in the man's heart as he had meant it to. He registered the knife being lightly scraped in small circles on the ground. A large sound resonated from the opposite end of the room. Both men turned their attention to the door. It opened and behind it was a woman with a smoking gun.

"Gāisǐ de, Mal," Inara reprimanded, lowering the gun. The bound man gaped at the woman, assuming she had come to aid in his demise. The man above him stopped scraping the knife and stood up.

"What're you doin' here?" Mal asked. Inara could see his frustration hiding the rage he felt for the man at his feet. She crossed the room and, to his surprise, pulled the chair up to its original position. The man flinched at the action, sweat dripping down his face. Mal's brows came together in confusion.

"What the hell do you think yer doin'?" Mal exclaimed. Inara faced him with the eyes of a wolf. She shoved him in the chest.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she retorted. Mal took a step back. "You enter my shuttle without my permission, access my log book unauthorized, and here you are holding this man hostage!" Mal's face returned to anger. He sheathed his blade and stared her straight in the eye.

"This man hurt you, and now I'm hurtin' 'im back. It's only fair," Mal hissed. Inara did not like the man she was looking at. Mal was possessed with rage and vengeance; he had murder in his eyes. She clenched her jaw and spat back:

"You're not helping me by killing anyone, Mal. You never will." The words struck him in the chest like a brick; they stung him deep down. His eyes flitted away, attempting to conceal the guilt her words produced. Inara was surprised her words had hit him so quickly. Why was he so affected? There had been numerous times they'd said hurtful things but never had she seen him take it to heart so suddenly. She only meant that killing would never help anyone. But she'd made it seem like he could never help her no matter what he did. She realized the double meaning behind her statement and sought to amend it.

"How would murder solve anything?" she continued, her voice softer; her tone less harsh. "It would only give the Alliance more incentive to bring you down." She looked away.

"And I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you." Mal's eyes flicked back to her face, confusion once again gracing his features. But as a pinkish hue filled her cheeks he couldn't help but chuckle. Her head whipped back at the sound. She cocked an angry brow at him.

"Why, I'm touched Inara. Who knew you could be so sentimental," he teased. She rolled her eyes, but allowed herself to smile. It was then that they remembered the man tied up beside them. Throughout their exchange he continued to try to wriggle his way out of his bindings. Mal looked to Inara for judgment, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave him," she concluded. "He'll be found eventually." Mal nodded and made to leave. Inara turned to face the man. She gripped the back of the chair with one hand and leaned in so her face was mere inches from his. His eyes opened wide and he focused on nothing but the menacing look she gave him.

"You will tell no one of this, Heston Skentler," she growled. "And you will never hurt another person again, or I will let him end you." He gulped out of fear as she stood upright again. And with the most satisfying crunch she had ever heard, Inara punched him in the nose. Mal heard the loud crack and the man's muffled scream as his foot crossed the threshold. He paused at the sound and turned around to see the blood running down the man's mouth, chin, and neck. Inara stood proud, her fist at her side. Mal laughed at the smile on her face. She hurried over to the door and the two exited the room.


Back on the ship, several questions had passed regarding Mal's disappearance followed by Inara's disappearance and her bloodied fist. Several more whispers passed behind closed doors as to the reasons, which had gone unanswered.

Mal and Inara walked up the cargo bay stairs in an oddly pleasant silence. When they reached the top, Mal made to go the opposite way of Inara's shuttle. But a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to face the Companion.

"Thank you, Mal," she said. Mal swallowed and looked down. He seemed almost embarrassed.

"Yeah, well, you're on my crew," he stumbled. Taking a chance Inara stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek, letting her lips linger on the surprisingly soft skin. Mal froze. His eyes grew wide and he fund he could not breathe. When she pulled back she chuckled and rolled her eyes. She turned on her heel and headed for her shuttle. Mal shook himself, allowing himself to register what had happened, but not letting it overcome him.

"You're welcome," he finally answered. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. He grinned crookedly back at her. She entered her shuttle and shut the door. Mal, too, turned and headed for his quarters. Once in private, he sank down on his bed and sighed.

"She'll be the death of me," he muttered to himself.

Thanks for reading. Once again, reviews are always appreciated so please do if you would be so kind.

Translations (and once again I used Google translate so please feel free to correct me if these are wrong)

tā mā de - motherfucking

Gāisǐ de - damn it