Two by Two by Two, Part 5b
A horrible fight, and its aftermath.
Rating: Please read the rating note on Chapter 1.
This section rated T.
He wanted to get to the bridge, where he could stare into the Black and think on this strange situation without interruption. He was utterly perplexed, but as he walked down the passage, a couple of LED's lit up dimly in his brain. What did Inara mean, go ask her? As if there could be any other her for him, 'sides Inara herownself. Now if that weren't a perplexion of pronouns, he didn't know what was. And what was that she called him? 'A two-timing son of a—' son of a bitch! Was that it? Was it possible that Inara thought he was carrying on with another woman? Could it be that Inara Serra, the great rise-above-all-pettiness Inara Serra, first-class Companion, was jealous of his affections? Inara Serra worried that Malcolm Reynolds wouldn't be true to her. Huh. The irony of such an unlikely situation struck him like a hammer hits an anvil. Inara fretting over his fidelity. Nah, he thought, dismissing the notion. It was just too improbable. He was too confounded in his own head to sort it out. Needed an outside opinion. He'd have to ask Zoe about it later.
. . .
Most of the crew were in the dining area, stunned into silence by the incredible row coming from the open door of Inara's shuttle. They were used to fireworks. Captain and Inara's love affair, with its fits and starts, break-ups and reconciliations, was better entertainment than the finest theatre in the Core. Jayne had amassed a small fortune taking bets on when and how their next fight would come about, how long the Captain would be in the doghouse, whether the Captain or Inara would be the first to crack and make up. But this row beat all the others hands down. For one thing, it was Inara screeching like a fishwife, cussing like a soldier, and throwing things. Jayne even learned a few new cuss words. No one could make out the Captain's words because he didn't even hardly raise his voice.
Inara's voice reached a crescendo. "Get out! Get out, Malcolm Reynolds, you two-timing 妓女的儿子 jìnǚ de érzi!" they heard clear as a bell, if a bell could shriek, that is. A hail of objects landed on the gratings with metallic pings and clangs. The shuttle door hissed shut, and the Captain's heavy step was heard in the corridor. A few moments later, he entered the dining area, looking stunned. Everyone stared blatantly at him while pretending to be deeply engaged with the variety of essential busy-work projects that they'd found it necessary to do within earshot of the shuttle. It was telling that the Captain seemed too stunned even to notice the unwanted attention. He focused in on Zoe, locked eyes for a moment, and stumped off to the bridge.
River looked up from the dining table, where she sat cocooned in a blanket, a steaming bowl of miso soup before her. She held out her hand toward Jayne. "Pay up, big man."
. . .
As he worked out with his free weights in the cargo bay, Jayne felt the want of the Shepherd's presence again. In more 'n one way, actually. Missed him as his workout partner. Missed his cooking. Missed how he would have eased the upset on the boat.
Book was always good for spotting with the weights. Workout and a homily. Jayne knew well enough that it was the Shepherd's way of preachin' at him without preachin' at him, if ya could say such a thing. Book'd just drop in some good advice casually, slip in some morality without you hardly bein' aware you was bein' sermonized. Workin' out was good for a man, not just for the muscles, but also for the spirit. Jayne had always known that. Workin' out settled a man's spirit like nothin' else—except maybe gettin' some trim. But the Shepherd had added an extra measure to it. The workout, not the trim.
Jayne also missed the Shepherd's cooking. That fancy meal the Captain had made a while back just highlighted the problem. Sure, they ate packaged protein most of the time, but Shepherd with his herbs and whatnot always made it taste like good food. Jayne had asked him once, what his secret was, and Book had just smiled one of them Shepherd smiles of his, like he knew a secret he weren't ever gonna spill. But then he added, "All it takes is a little flour, a little oil, a little bit of spice—and a lot of prayer." Jayne thought he shoulda asked the Shepherd what some of them food prayers were, 'cause right now they were limited to Jayne prayin' it weren't the Doc's cook day. Sure, he'd eat it, no matter what it was—Radiant Cobb hadn't brought up her son to turn up his nose at any food—but that didn't mean he didn't have no sense of taste.
As he pumped his muscles up and down with the free weights, Jayne's attention was caught by a commotion up above on the catwalk. It was Mal, tryin' to talk to Inara again, tryin' to kiss and make up. He heard the shuttle door slam and the Cap's heavy exhalation, then his step slumping away down the corridor. Shepherd woulda talked some sense into them two by now, Jayne thought, as he worked through his reps.
Jayne knew what Mal should oughtta do: take charge, tell that woman to shut the 地狱 dìyù up and listen to reason. Oughtta just grab her, drag her to bed and then 操逼 càobī themselves silly 'til they didn't have no fight left in 'em no more. Best course of action for everyone on the boat. Sure, watchin' the two of them bicker was good entertainment, but Jayne understood that if they broke up for real it would just make trouble for the entire crew. Would put Mal in a black funk, and instead of blowin' off his aggravations at a good whorehouse or takin' matters into his own hands like Jayne would, he'd take it out on the crew. Like as not he'd make a mistake on the job that would result in somebody gettin' stabbed or shot. Since Jayne was high on the list of folk what stood to get stabbed or shot on a job gone bad, he was eager for that not to happen. Mal in a black mood weren't no fun to deal with nohow.
Jayne stood up and began a set of curls with the free weights. Man had got a lot easier to live with since he'd took to gettin' laid regular. Jayne remembered what it was like before Inara had turned up. Seemed like he'd been tellin' him that for years, but would Mal ever take his advice and come along to the cathouse with him? Nooooo. Was too far up on his high horse, disparaging Jayne's perfectly sensible attendance to his perfectly natural urges. If ever was a man needed to attend regularly to them natural urges to keep hisself from goin' plumb crazy, it was the Captain. Someone needed to impress upon Inara that the whole gorram crew depended on her to keep the Cap'n from turnin' into a right raving 神经病 shén jīng bìng.
Jayne woulda told her, but she wouldn't listen to him. Zoe wouldn't break ranks with Mal, Kaylee was too nice to confront Inara, Doc was too much of a wuss to confront her, Crazy was too crazy to do it, and Doc 'Noyman didn't have a clue. If anybody coulda told her, told her in a way that she'd listen and accept, it was Book. 哦 天啊 Ò tiān ā, he missed the Shepherd.
. . .
This time, he caught her by surprise. Her door was open, and he'd actually crossed the threshold before she was aware.
"Inara." His voice was pleading.
"Go away, Mal." It was the same answer she'd made every time. She wouldn't look at him. The 花心 huāxīn, 背信棄義的 bèixìnqìyìde…. If she looked into those eyes, she'd be lost again, lost like she was before. Lost in the woods and the deep blue…and she couldn't, now that the spell was broken and the fairy tale ended, and reality was descending with a thud of finality.
"Please, Inara—" He took a step forward.
"I said, go away!" Can't look, can't look.
"Look at me," he implored. She wouldn't.
"Go away." He didn't.
"Can we at least talk about it?"
"Go away," she commanded, still refusing to look. Still he made no move.
"Inara—" he insisted.
Picking up the nearest object, she flung it at him. Companion education included archery, marksmanship, and a variety of field sports—skills that few people considered when they thought about Companion training. She actually had remarkably good aim, and the object struck his forehead.
"Ow. Inara—" He flung up his arms to protect his head.
"I. Said. Go. Away." She punctuated each word with another object, still not meeting his eyes. He retreated, as each object struck its target. "Go away!" She hit the button to shut the door, and not content with its unhurried rate of closure, she gave it a powerful assist. The finality of its clang gave her some satisfaction, as did the click when she engaged the lock.
Then she curled up on the edge of her bed and wept silently, her heart pulling painfully in her chest.
. . .
.
.
.
glossary
妓女的儿子 jìnǚ de érzi [son of a whore]
地狱 dìyù [hell]
操逼 càobī [screw]
神经病 shén jīng bìng [lunatic, mental case]
哦 天啊 Ò tiān ā [God]
花心 huāxīn [unfaithful]
背信棄義的 bèixìnqìyìde [betraying]
A/N: Oh Inara. Oh Mal. It's painful to watch, isn't it?