Hey guys, sorry about the lack of actual plot in the last chapter, I put in extra to make up for it this time. I do want to say as a slight forewarning – this entire story is a transition, to take place between when the series ends and the movie begins. Thus, the things that are reality in the movie are going to happen here. Inara and Book are going to leave. Simon and Kaylee are never going to actually get down and dirty. I'm a little limited by the things that are already true – so… just know that.
Anyway, as always, love to my betas. And also I don't own it.
Most importantly – please review. This is my first full-blown Firefly fic, and any criticism/love/neutral reactions that I get are like balm to my paranoid, "is anyone reading this?" author's soul. SO PLZ. I know you guys are out there, it would just totally make my day if more than 1/100 would actually SAY something.
So without further ado,
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The New Freedom
Ch. 3
Mal stopped outside the Inara's shuttle at the sound of voices and pressed his ear against the door.
"– the third time you've called to tell us there's been a delay. If I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't coming at all."
"I am sorry, Wai po. Something came up."
A long pause, punctuated by an irritated snort. "Inara, this is silly. Stop dancing around and come home – we've missed you."
"And I you. I'll be home as soon as possible."
A sudden bark of laughter made Mal jerk his ear back from the door, then replace it with a growl when he realized what he'd done.
"As soon as possible, eh? Bao bei, if you have your way that'll be never."
"Wai po…"
"Tzao ge, girl, I get it. No more delays."
The click of the vid screen going off was Mal's cue to enter.
"A delay? On account of little ol' me? Aw, you shouldn't have."
Inara's initial panic was soon covered by an exasperated look. "Do you have any concept of privacy at all?"
"Eh. Not so much."
"Besides, without me, this job is a bust." She rose with an unladylike shrug of her shoulders. "Think of it as a going away present."
Mal's smug smile dropped from his face, the way it had been doing lately whenever he looked at her. "Right. Courteous of you to stick around." He turned to leave.
"Mal–"
"No more delays, you're right. This job shouldn't take outside a couple days and we'll drop you on Sihnon first thing. Be ready to move in a couple of hours." He spun on his heel and fled.
-
"Hey, Wash?"
"Hey Kaylee, what's on your mind?"
"Are the captain and Inara there yet?"
"Just touched down, got a wave from Mal saying they were on their way in."
"Oh, okay, good."
"Something wrong?"
"…No, nothing."
-
"…try not to talk, and follow my lead." Inara hissed, lacing her arm though Mal's and leading him none-too-gently down the path to Kraynar's house. She had on one of her more flattering dresses, Mal noticed. It was a flowing little number, and the red cloth shimmering against gold brocade brought out the tanned hue of her skin as she paced gracefully at his side.
"And what," he drawled, "gives you the idea that I can't handle myself?"
"Last time you tried, you got stabbed. Twice." She whispered vehemently. A passing gardener gave them a quizzical look.
"Well, that was under extenuating circumstances, and may I point out that I stabbed him back? 'sides, I've matured. My dueling days are well behind me."
Inara gave him a doubtful glance, but chose not to comment. "Just remember, I am your personal Companion, and you are a respectable gentleman."
Mal grumbled at the phrase "personal Companion." It reminded him far too much of Atherton Wing, but he and Inara had already argued this point, and he'd grudgingly admitted that it was the only way to explain their association. Didn't stop him from silently resenting, though.
"Names please?"
Mal froze, hand reaching automatically for a gun that wasn't there while searching for the source of the mechanical voice. Inara rolled her eyes.
"Inara Serra and Malcolm Reynolds."
"How come your name gets to go first?" Mal demanded as the voice registrar analyzed Inara's response. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose with her free hand.
"Shut up, Mal."
"Welcome, Malcolm Reynolds and Inara Serra."
Mal smirked at her triumphantly as the double doors swung inwards.
Kraynar's home was, at best, garish. Ornaments of all shapes and sizes dripped from gilded walls, and a huge mantle adorned each fireplace (there were four that Mal could see). Aresian rugs covered the floor with holographic, moving depictions of an old-fashioned hunt, complete with bugles and gory swordfights.
Mal had to close his eyes to keep from getting sick. Inara swayed on his arm.
"Well," she said faintly, "this should be fun."
The muffled thump of boots on carpet made Mal force his eyes open again. "Why, hello!" Kraynar greeted enthusiastically, grabbing Mal's hand in an energetic handshake and nodding his head towards Inara. "Can I get you folks some breakfast?"
Mal turned green at the thought. "NO."
"We've already eaten, thank you." Thank god for Inara, superwoman, able to overcome tactlessness in a single bound Mal considered, as an afterthought, that the incense might be making him giddy. "You've a lovely home, Mr. Kraynar." She feigned a gasp of delight. "Oh, is that a Clionian statue? However did you get your hands on one?"
"My, the lady does have a sharp eye." Kraynar winked at Mal, who was too queasy to return the favor. "That Clionian? Came off a family after the war. Seems they'd come down on the side of the browncoats, bit 'em in the pigu something fierce." He laughed unpleasantly. "By the time I came along, they'd sell it for any price I could pay." Mal's smile was tight, but Inara's was as infallible as always.
"You have impeccable taste, Mr. Kraynar."
He frowned petulantly. "I thought I told you to call me Bill, Miss Inara." The reproach in his voice was laughable, but Inara didn't show it on her face. She laid a soothing hand on his arm.
"Of course, Bill. Please, excuse me." He beamed at the small show of favor, and Mal was forcibly reminded of a dog that had just been given a treat. The comparison did not flatter "Bill" in Mal's esteem.
"Where are my manners?" Bill demanded rhetorically. Mal opened his mouth to tell him exactly where his manners were and invite him to join them, but Inara's abrupt elbow in his side stopped him. "Let me give you the grand tour!" He set off at a rapid pace in front of them, babbling about his tiger skin rug and collection of matryoshka dolls. Mal leaned down so his mouth was next to Inara's ear.
"Was that entirely necessary?"
"Remember the stabbing? Let's avoid that."
"Oddly enough, the only one poking anyone around here is you. I'm pretty sure Atherton's sword was less sharp than your elbows anyway, so – ow!"
"Mal, be quiet." She whispered fiercely, then spoke up in a louder voice. "Are those really Hasturian tapestries, Bill? The workmanship is remarkable."
-
"Hey, Wash?"
"Yeah?"
"How long are they gonna be there for?"
"'Nara said social calls last somewhere around two hours, give or take. Probably try and cut it short by begging a headache, but who knows?"
"Two hours? Of talking?"
"Rich people are strange. Not that's we'd know what that's like, of course."
-
Inara gasped in surprise as they entered the next room, a large, spacious chamber with vaulted ceilings and bay windows for better lighting.
"Oh, my."
Mal could only stare, any and all words frozen by the room's startling appearance.
"Huh."
It was full of animals, but not animals like Mal had ever seen. He'd hunted deer once or twice, back on Shadow, but there were things in here that were twice as big, with antlers as long as Mal's arm. A feline of some sort, spotted, stared at him with fangs bared in a frozen snarl. Something that resembled one of Wash's dinosaurs was stretched out on its belly, seemingly taking a nap.
"Ain't they something?" Bill asked, surveying the room with apparent satisfaction. "My own personal collection. Couldn't find a bigger one in the whole 'verse, I reckon."
"My goodness, Bill, what are these things? They look so familiar, and yet I can't imagine ever having seen them before."
"Well now, you might've seen pictures in a textbook, a learned lady like yourself. They're all from Earth-That-Was, every last one. Go on," he added, noticing her hand stretching hesitantly towards one of the animals, "you can touch 'em. They won't bite." He laughed at his own joke.
Mal realized the slight problem with their plan. He wandered casually to Inara's side and laid a casual hand on the animal she was touching – the tag said "mink" – and whispered in her ear.
"Now, I don't suppose a 'learned lady' like yourself," he paused and glanced at Bill, who was watching their reactions with a self-gratified delight, "would know which of these is a caribou?"
Inara bit her lip thoughtfully and walked to a different animal, something large and shaggy with antlers. "Bill," she called, "what is this creature?"
"That, I believe, would be a reindeer." Bill answered, stroking his moustache pensively. Mal and Inara exchanged exasperated looks as she began to drift towards the next deer-shaped creature in the room. "Funny things, reindeer. Y'ever hear that queer story 'bout Santa Claus?"
For all that Mal had mostly stuck to Inara's request for silence, he considered mentioning that, for the majority of his childhood, his Chrismases were entirely centered around that "queer story." He nodded instead. "I'm familiar with it."
"Well, these darn things were the ones supposed to carry that fat guy around." He chuckled, belly jiggling like the man in the old poem. Inara's considering look told Mal that she, too, was imagining him in a red suit. "Can you imagine? Reckon not even a toddler could believe these things can fly around the 'verse with presents for all the good girls and boys. Had another name, too," he added pensively. "Kerry… carving? Can-something?"
"Caribou?" Mal offered.
"That was it!" Kraynar snapped his fingers. "Caribou! My, Mr. Reynolds, d'you know much about this sort of thing?"
Mal shook his head and strolled over to the caribou, surreptitiously removing the tracker from his pocket as he did so. "Not really, just heard 'em mentioned once or twice." He stroked the thing once from head to tail, tracker leaving his hand and sticking to one furry haunch. "Sure would like to know more though."
"Well, I don't see why not!" Kraynar looked overjoyed to have a willing audience. "If you'll just follow me, I've some excellent specimen awaiting us in the parlor –"
He motioned for them to follow and bustled off across the vast room. Mal grinned at Inara, the happy expression that indicated a job going right.
"Alright, tracker's in place, we'd best be going." He muttered. Inara's eyes widened as he called to their host. "Hey, Bill!"
"Mal!" Inara's scandalized whisper and desperate look made him pause.
"We, um," he hesitated, then let out a resigned sigh and pointed to an animal at random. "…were wondering what that was?"
Kraynar raised one bushy eyebrow skeptically. "That's a bear."
Mal looked at where his finger was pointing, then stuffed it guiltily into his pockets. "Well, how about that. So it is." He offered Kraynar a sheepish smile, long enough for him to turn around and continue walking.
They trailed behind Kraynar, out of the still-life room and into another that seemed to be holiday-themed. Inara was studying a porcelain cherub with a diaper and a bow when Mal appeared behind her and set a hand on her shoulder.
"Inara," he said in a low voice, guiding her nonchalantly towards a window. "You wanna explain to me what we're still doing here?"
"We can't leave yet," she answered, reaching out to touch a dream catcher that was pinned to the wall. "We have a good ten minutes of tour left, followed by an hour of polite conversation about society and the weather."
"The weather? Listen, Inara, I know that it's generally not healthy for me to try and understand your world, but this is kuang zhe de. Now, try and faint or something, because I do not want to put up with this guy for another hour."
"Mal, I cannot faint on command. Besides, if we leave, it will make him suspicious. Is the phrase 'rich and paranoid' ringing any bells? We stay."
"Okay, so no fainting. How about I try and get us thrown out?"
Inara shot him a look that said clear as words, Don't You Dare. She wandered away, joining Bill by a fireplace as tall as she was and striking up a conversation about the marble work.
Mal busied himself with looking out the window long enough to get his irritation under control, then followed Bill and Inara out of the room and into a different chamber that he could only assume was the parlor.
Right, one hour. I can handle that. Besides, she never actually said not to get us thrown out, and how hard can it be to act civil for a little while? Mal passed a particularly brazen painting that involved some sort of primate and what looked like a coconut.
"Ai ya. Wo men wan le." He muttered to himself. He shot a glare at the maid who was regarding him suspiciously and followed the two glitterati down the hall.
-
"Hey Wash?"
"Yes, Kaylee, I'm right here."
"They're gonna kill each other, aren't they."
"Oh, absolutely."
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