Chapter
Two: The Guild & the Boy
Disclaimer: I still own nothing!
You take care of what you've got; Inara Serra knew that. You get the client, treat them well, and send them on their way. But you never fall in love; it weakens you, it breaks your focus, it hurts you more than you'll ever know. Those were the rules. She knew what she'd been taught, but the words of her mentors were becoming harder and harder to remember every day.
Inara had talents. Even when she was new to the Training House, she'd been recognized as having a remarkable sense of poise and etiquette. She was graceful and beautiful, as she'd always been told. From the moment she received certification as a Companion, clients had been lining up just to request being with her. She could have any man she wanted, except for the one she actually wanted.
Mal.
Their conversations since departing Miranda had been short, light, to the point. When she'd told him she did not wish to return home--if that's even what it was to her anymore--he'd accepted the news easily. She would have expected the old Mal to ask her if she was sure, or tease her, or lecture her over "life on his ship," as if she didn't already know. When he did none of these, it unnerved her, and she immediately followed with an explanation that she needed to help the others, and to heal, and he'd accepted this as well. She'd gone back to her shuttle, then, and refused to believe that Mal wanted her aboard his ship. It wasn't worth the pain of uncertainty.
She'd long-since surrendered the fight against herself, telling herself that the only thing she felt for the ship's captain was disdain. She knew that wasn't the case. Even still, she made it a point to keep those feelings to herself. Mostly. There were times when she slipped; times when he had her so angry or so awed or so panicked that she couldn't help herself and she let a little show. He always reciprocated, in his small, smartass way, and this both gave her hope and tortured her. She was a Companion, and it wasn't appropriate. Returning to the Training House had reminded her of such things, and she'd tried her best to hold her feelings behind her eyes whenever he was around; she'd had to make herself cold. As far as she could tell, he'd done the same.
Even still, she'd broken the rules. You never fall in love; not with a client, and certainly not with anyone else. You never let anyone get that close. You never lose control. If one's presence--one's simple touch--became more desirable than another's, you'd never be able to feel anything for anyone else again. But how could she deny herself Mal for much longer when every ounce of her being reached out to him like rays of light for the mountaintops? She knew she shouldn't, but at the same time, how could she stop herself from wanting him? It was like asking the Guild to stop wanting clients.
It dawned on Inara that, though Mal had an unabashed distaste for Companions, he was a lot like them. No, he wasn't well-mannered or graceful. He didn't have much respect or reverence for most things or people. He didn't worry about pleasing people. However, he was strong and sure, and he knew himself so entirely but remained a mystery to everyone else, the way all Companions were made to. He couldn't be pushed around, and he always got what he set out for. She wanted him more than she'd wanted to become a part of the Guild, and--though she didn't think it possible--she found him more glamorous and exotic. But she couldn't offer him a few Credits and hope to have him take her. Mal couldn't be made to do anything he didn't want to, and even some things he did want to, especially when she was the one asking it of him. And he definitely wouldn't become something he'd always despised part of her for. He was too good for her.
So, how was this one?
As good as Chapter One? Better? Worse? R&R, please!
Keep them
eyes peeled for the third and final chapter, The Boat & the
Guild.
