December 17
She found Mal looking down over the empty cargo bay, his arms folded across the railing.
"Inara." He nodded civilly at her. "Somethin' you needed?"
"Well, yes, actually. It's about what you spoke of the other night, at dinner." Why did everything have to feel so awkward between them? She cleared her throat. He was wearing his red shirt – her favorite. Of course he was.
His grin was playful and made her heart twinge. "You come to ask me what I want for Christmas?"
"Not exactly. I have a favour to ask."
"Hmm… well, I suppose it would depend on what sort of favour it was then."
"I was hoping we could make a brief stop on Allegra. It's on the path to Noveria, and it would cost us less than eight hours including the flight path change and the stop over."
"And why would you want to do that exactly?" She could hear the frost creeping into his voice with each word he spoke, and he stood taller, leaning away from her and crossing his arms over his chest. "It ain't a Core world, but it might as well be. Puts us all in danger."
"I have a client there – "
"A client?" He cut her off sharply, flinching as though she'd just shot him. "I thought… never mind what I thought." What she thought was hurt flickered in his eyes. "No, we can't stop there."
"It's not what you think. Why do you always have to – "
"You don't need to finish sayin' it, okay? I already promised the crew a few days of respite, and I sure as hell ain't going to risk going any where near the Alliance with all the gŏu shĭ we just stirred up, in case you'd forgotten. Your precious client will just have to keep it in his gorram pants a while longer."
The bitterness in his tone made her take a step back, looking at him in barely disguised shock. She'd thought they had both had some time to think during their time apart, but now she was afraid that she'd been horribly mistaken. Had she been wrong to come back, thinking that things might be different this time? Should she be looking to leave now, to cut her losses and run before the hurt became even more unbearable? She was torn between anger and tears and her own helplessness made her want to lash out, to hurt him back. Why didn't he ever try to understand?
"Look, I'm not the petty crook here. I have a respectable business that operates fully within the confines of the law. If it weren't for you, I could operate on any world I chose." Her words were heated, intended to hurt, even though there was no satisfaction to be felt when they did.
"So why don't you then? Leave. Go ahead. I ain't stoppin' you."
"You can be so…" She bit back the words she really wanted to say. "So… stupid sometimes, you know that?"
"Yeah, I guess I can."
She blinked back the hot tears that were prickling in her eyes, making them burn.
"Look, what do you want from me, Inara? Every time I think I got you figured out, I just…" His words trailed off and he took in a deep shuddering breath. "You know what? Forget it."
She could feel the anger coursing through her, and it took all her will to remain standing there, her fingers trembling as she clutched the railing so hard that her knuckles went white.
Her voice was tight as she pushed the words out past the lump in her throat. "The reason I want to stop on Allegra – "
"Don't much care to hear you say it again," he interrupted. He was quiet, defeated. "I don't want to hear it."
" – is for chocolate".
He looked up in surprise. "Chocolate? But you just – "
"I asked you to let me finish," she said, meeting his eyes with a furious look, daring him to interrupt her again. "I have a client there who is part of a trade group for exotic goods. He's a negotiator with one of the major farming conglomerates. We always had hot chocolate during the winter festival on Sihnon, and I thought it would nice to have some this year, for everyone to get a chance to try it."
His face looked stricken, but she was beyond caring – just angry and hurt by his assumptions, by her own foolishness.
"And, before you ask, I was planning to purchase it with money, not sex. Despite what you're so fond of telling me, I'm not a whore."
"Inara…"
She felt tired and shaky. The last place she wanted to be right now was here, in his presence. "Just forget it, Mal. I don't want to… just, forget I said anything."
She walked purposefully away from him, trying to keep herself from breaking into a run, wanting nothing more than to be able to close the shuttle doors behind her.
With a steady hand, Simon used a pipette to deposit a minute amount of the new formulation into each of the semi-circular wells in the plastic plate. When he'd finished, he transferred the plate to the incubator chamber and then removed his first layer of gloves, tossing them into the trash.
"Hey, Doc." The captain was leaning against the doorframe of the infirmary. "How are things going? Makin' any progress?"
"I think so." Simon walked over to the sink and began scrubbing his still-gloved hands with disinfectant. "Her system keeps adapting to the medications. Makes it hard to find something that seems to work for more than a week or two."
"I'm sure you'll get it all figured out."
Mal stood there, not speaking, as Simon dried his hands and began to gather up the glassware he'd used and placed it in the sink for washing. "Was there… something I can help you with?
Mal glanced around and stepped into the infirmary. "It's Zoe." He kept his voice low. "Somethin' ain't right. She's hidin' it well, but I know something's up."
"Well, she lost her husband. It's hardly surprising that she – "
"No, it ain't that. She and I… we went through a lot, during the war. I've seen her grievin' more times than I can say. Now I know it weren't of the magnitude of somethin' like this, but I got a feelin' in my gut that that's not all it is this time."
Simon turned the water on and added a splash of soap to the sink. "I can check her over, if you like."
"Please." Mal nodded and turned to leave. "I'd appreciate it. Thanks."
"Oh, before you go…" Simon dried his hands on a towel and peeled off his second layer of gloves. He walked over to the counter nearest the door and picked up a small bag filled with tiny slips of folded paper. "You need to pick one of these."
"What are they?" Mal looked puzzled.
"Secret Santa."
"Secret… what now?"
"Secret Santa. It was Kaylee's idea." It hadn't been, actually, but he thought it would be easier to convince Mal than if he'd told him the truth. "We all draw a name from the bag. Whoever you get, you make or buy a present for that person. That way no one has to spend too much money buying something for everyone."
Mal reached in and drew out a piece of paper without looking at it. "What if you pick your own name?"
"Then you put it back and pick another one. Wouldn't be much fun if you were giving something to yourself." He tried to act casual, leaning back against the counter, but worried that Mal would think he was behaving oddly and stood up straight again. "You don't tell anyone whose name you have until we open the gifts. That's the secret part." It was hard to keep himself from cringing at his own words.
Mal just stared at him. "I'd gathered." He unfolded his slip, looked at it a moment, then folded it back up and stuck it into the pocket of his pants. "So, when has Kaylee decided we'll be exchangin' presents?"
"Uh, Christmas Eve. I think. I can find out."
"All right, you let me know."
"Right. Sure. I'll do that."
He let out a sigh of relief after Mal had gone. He turned off the water in the sink that was nearly overflowing, and then grabbed the little bag full of papers and dumped them into the garbage can, hiding them from view with a few damp paper towels that he squished in on top. Opening a drawer, he pulled out another handful of folded slips of paper and stuffed them into the bag. One down, one to go.
December 18
As she often did, River had appeared in her shuttle that morning unannounced, and now she was curled up in Inara's bed, reading a book. Inara felt at a loss with what to do with her own time. She'd been so busy before – always appointments to make and schedules to keep. Now she felt cast off, adrift, and had ended up spending the morning braiding her hair up into an elaborate style for no reason at all except to keep her hands and mind occupied.
She'd relived the quarrel with Mal over in her mind more times than was healthy – or productive – and it wasn't getting her anywhere. Sometimes she slapped him, raged at him, kissed him, wept… none of it helped.
River spoke without looking up from her book. "Your thoughts are very loud today."
"Yes, I suppose they are." She stared at her reflection in the mirror as she slid the last comb of carved jade into place. Finished. Not that it mattered. None of it mattered.
River set the book down beside her and rolled over to look at the Chinese characters that Inara had painted using Kaylee's paint and brushes. "These are new." Inara watched her through the mirror as River touched each symbol, as Kaylee had done earlier. "Kaylee. River. Simon. Jayne. Book. Wash. Zoe. Mal." She tapped the blank spot below the final character. "No Inara. You're missing."
"How did you…?" She shouldn't have been surprised, after everything they'd been through and everything she'd seen, but it was still more than a little unsettling.
"Why?" River asked, her long hair falling into her eyes.
"Because…" She hesitated. Because she didn't know if she was truly intending to stay? Because she didn't know what to choose, feeling like her own sense of who she was had somehow come undone? River was watching, waiting expectantly for her answer. "I don't know," she said at last. "I don't know who I am any more."
"You do." River approached her on silent feet, stroked the neat braids that were pinned and curled around her head, and then kissed Inara's forehead softly, like a mother would kiss a child. "Don't fret. You should wave Lord Evans now. We're almost there."
"Lord Evans? I don't understand…"
River tilted her head to the right and then to the left, watching herself in the mirror. "Docking at Allegra in an hour. Captain changed course last night."
She was speechless. Unfortunately, she didn't have the time to think about the implications right now. Hugh's schedule was always packed. Hopefully, it wasn't too late to arrange a meeting and he'd have what she needed – chocolate, sugar, maybe cardamom pods? She had more than enough saved away to afford it… She needed to change into something more suitable – at least her hair was already done.
"Wear the gold dress. It's his favourite."
"Let me send the wave first." Inara hugged the girl close. It wasn't exactly an apology from Mal, but it was likely the best she was going to get. "Want to help me get ready, mèi mèi?"
He was pacing the catwalk, having finally given up all pretence that he was doing anything but waiting for Inara's shuttle to return. Thankfully, everyone else seemed to be occupied so he hadn't needed to come up with a reason for what he was doing there. She wasn't in any danger, or much less than the rest of them were at least. She had status, proper papers… nothing to worry about.
He made another pass – back and forth – looking out over the cargo bay. She should be back by now, shouldn't she? It was just a business deal. None of that… other stuff. He scowled and shoved his hands in his pockets.
The sound of the shuttle jolted him out of his thoughts. She was back – safe – and now they could get off this rock and back out in the black and on their way again. He leaned his back against the railing, trying to affect an air of nonchalance as the mechanical grinding sound of the shuttle being docked and drawn in against Serenity's hull slowed and then halted.
He folded his arms across his chest.
He uncrossed his arms and put them behind him, leaning against his lower back.
Turning around with his back to the shuttle, he rested his elbows on the top of the railing.
There was a hiss of released pressure as the shuttle doors opened, and he turned around, folding his arms back across his chest, as Inara came down the steps. "Oh! Guess you're back then. Good." He unfolded his arms and stuck his hands in his pockets. Her approach was graceful, sure. "Did you, uh, were you able to get what you were lookin' for?"
She smiled and it seemed genuine. "More than I'd hoped for, actually. Here." She handed him the small burlap bag he hadn't noticed she was carrying. It had a bit of heft to it – several pounds at least.
"What's this? It ain't full of snakes or somethin', is it?"
"No, tempting though that might be. It's coffee beans. We've been out since, well, for some time now." Because they hadn't been able to afford it, but she didn't say that out loud. "I was planning to save the hot chocolate for Christmas Eve, but I thought that this would be something nice to have now, rather than waiting."
"I'm sure this'll be right welcome. Zoe can be awful mean without her morning cup. Thank you." He gave her a nod and a small smile, accepting what he recognized was her apology. "You didn't run into any trouble?"
"No, but I took precautions just in case. Lord Evans won't mention my visit to anyone and I trust him to keep his word."
"Good. That's good."
She was standing close enough to be distracting, and it didn't help matters that she was wearing that dress, his favourite – the one of muted gold flecked with black, like the night sky in reverse. It draped loosely over her body, not tight, but with just enough material that every movement drew his eye to the sinuous shift of her form beneath it. The fabric gleamed like satin – maybe it was – making him want to touch it, to feel how it would slide over her skin.
It also didn't help that he could smell the incense that clung to her hair. The shuttle had held on to that scent for weeks after she'd left, tormenting him with a continual reminder of her absence. It was like a ghost, coming out of nowhere when he least expected it – alone on the bridge, half expecting to find her standing behind him when he turned his chair around; in the galley, or worse, in his bunk, late at night when he couldn't sleep.
"Was there something else you needed?"
He blinked, startled out of his reverie. "Uh, no. I'll just take this to the kitchen, maybe put on a pot. If you felt like lettin' folks know that it's there… you could, uh… do that. If you wanted."
"Of course." She smiled again, her eyes dark and warm, and he was pretty sure that his insides might've just melted into a puddle. "See you later then."
"Yeah. Okay. Good."
Wŏ de mā hé tā de fēng kuáng de wài sheng.
He was so screwed.
Translations
gŏu shĭ – crap; dog shit
mèi mèi – little sister
Wŏ de mā hé tā de fēng kuáng de wài sheng – Holy mother of God and all Her wacky nephews
A huge thank you to Josie Lange, for taking time out of a terrible week to beta this chapter for me. All the hugs, Josie!