I'm sorry this took me so long! I went back to school two weeks ago and I've barely had a moment to breathe since, but I wanted to get this chapter up before any more time went by. To anyone still reading this: I appreciate your patience, and I especially appreciate those who have left reviews! Hope you enjoy.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

HEAD OVER HEART

08 - 29 - 2506

Inara laid her hand over his, rubbing a thumb back and forth across his knuckles. The rigid lines of his posture began to soften.

"Sorry." He shook his head. "I'm under a lot of pressure. My boss…"

Inara tilted her head, waiting.

"She thinks her style of leadership is the only one. And I'm just not like that with my team." A flutter of nerves crossed his mouth.

Inara set aside the cushion that lay in between them, and shifted closer. "You feel pressured to be a different person than who you are," she prompted.

"Yes, sometimes." Her 'client,' a male Companion in the role of a young, stressed professional contracting for the first time, let out a shaky breath. "All the time."

"You don't have to be that person here." Inara brought her mouth closer to his. "There's only the two of us, and there are absolutely no requirements for this evening."

His muscles slackened, as if to melt into the chaise longue. Inara smiled. Her fingers traced along the line of his jaw.

"Let go with me," she whispered. "The rest will take care of itself."

He hesitated, in-character, before his mouth fell onto Inara's. He let out a moan of relief. Inara slid her thighs over his lap, lifting herself up to straddle him. She ran her hands over his shoulders, up the back of his neck. His hair was a bit long, on the edge of scruffy, trailing down to fuzz on his nape.

That was all it took.

When she breathed in again, it was different air, in a different place, with a different person underneath her. Inara's pulse spiked. She pressed herself flush against his hips, savoring the softness of his hair, and behind her closed eyes it became a dusty brown, with strands of light like trapped sunbeams. His hands rested loosely on her waist. Inara moaned into his mouth, pleading. Tighter, Mal…

The bell trilled, to signal the end of the exam. Inara pulled back, gasping for air. She blinked at the stranger staring up at her. Dark brown eyes. Black hair.

Inara recovered, with as much grace as she could. She adjusted her dress, to hide the tremble in her hands, and stood up. The 'client' followed suit, with a pleasant, business-like smile.

She turned to face her exam proctors, and received their praise and critique without absorbing a single word. She heard nothing but her heartbeat in her ears.

"Inara Serra, prospective Companion of the House Madrassa, your performance in this examination has earned a grade of 'exemplary.'" The voice of Priestess Song broke through. "You have successfully completed all examinations administered by this House."

The Priestess lowered her slate board. "Your final evaluation will take place before the Companion's Guild on the day of your 21st birthday, October 3rd, in approximately one month's time."

Inara released a breath. She bowed, a bit out of rhythm, to her 'client,' to the instructor, and finally to Priestess Song. She left the room, moving as if in a dream. In the corridor outside, Min's voice pinched her neck, bringing her to a halt.

"Inara."

She stopped. A vague guilt curdled in her stomach.

For the past three months Inara had tried, and failed, to forget what her father had said about the Priestess. That she had conspired to keep Solomon from his daughter, to keep Inara 'all to herself.' It didn't make any sense. A misinterpretation of events, Inara had decided, skewed by dislike.

She took in a breath, and turned around. The Priestess gave her a beatific smile. Inara returned it, though it felt false, stiff around the edges.

"Allow me to offer my congratulations."

"Xiè xiè nǐ," said Inara, with a small bow.

"We should meet soon, to discuss preparations for your appearance before the Guild."

Inara nodded. "I would appreciate that very much."

"You must stay focused, now more than ever." Min held Inara's eyes, intent. "Your hardest test is yet to come."

/*/*\*\

The moment Inara opened the door of her room, a pair of hands shot out from within, dragging her inside.

"Congratulations," Riz sang, as she pulled Inara down onto the bed. "You survived the big, scary Seduction eval. I say we celebrate." Her lips pressed into a smirk. "Where's your secret chocolate stash?"

"If I tell you, then it won't be a secret."

"No, then it'll be our secret."

Inara rolled her eyes, and turned to the wall above her bed. She pressed the hidden switch which made a shallow drawer pop out, barely more than a crack in the paisley-patterned wallpaper.

The moment Riz clapped eyes on the bar of chocolate, she dove for it. Inara threw a shoulder out to block her. They jostled on the bed, giggling. Riz managed to stretch her arm around Inara's shoulder, and grabbed the gleam of golden foil with a triumphant "Ha!"

A strand of mahogany beads, wrapped around a small book bound in blue, strayed into Riz's grip. When she flopped back on the bed, prize in hand, the beads and book came with it. They landed in her lap.

Inara snatched up the book, but not before Riz saw the title. She laughed.

"Why do you have a copy of the Covenant in your valuables drawer? And why did you wrap your mala beads around it?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Have you been praying for your father's political success?"

"He doesn't need me to." Inara repositioned the beads and tucked the book away in the back of the drawer, pressing it shut again. "He's doing quite well on his own."

Riz peeled back the foil, and broke off a piece of chocolate to hand to Inara. "So where did it come from?"

"I don't remember." Inara shrugged a shoulder. "My father must have given it to me."

"No, he didn't," said Riz with her mouth full. "He would've bought you a real paper copy. That looks like it came off a sidewalk peddler's cart."

Inara said nothing, chewing her chocolate slowly. It might as well have been wax on her tongue for all she could taste of it.

"Inara." Riz stopped eating, eyes fixed in hers. "Out with it, already. Whatever it is you're not telling me. Is it to do with your father? Or the Priestess?" Riz dipped her chin, to murmur, "Do you have a forbidden qíngrén?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Inara huffed. "It's not like that-" she stopped short, too late.

Riz's eyes flew wide. "Aiya," she breathed."You do."

"No, we are not- involved. Romantically or sexually. We're just friends."

Riz dropped the chocolate, and sprang forward, to grab Inara's hands in hers. "Who are they? An outsider? How old? How did you meet?

"Lower your voice," Inara hissed. She breathed in sharp through her nose, and let it go. "He's our age. And about as much of an outsider as he could possibly be." She finished, almost too soft to be heard, "He's my father's stable hand."

Riz clapped her hands over mouth, muffling a shriek. She stared at Inara, unblinking, before she lowered her fingers just enough to murmur, "Sweet Buddha…"

"I know."

"You could be expelled."

Inara shut her eyes. "I know."

"So that's why you come back every Sunday smelling like you've been rolling around in the stables."

"I…" Inara knit her brow. "Now wait a minute, that is not-"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I-" Inara tore her gaze aside. "I'm sorry. I wanted to, but..."

Riz caught Inara's hands in her own. "You know I won't tell a soul. I promise."

"I know." Inara managed a smile, squeezing her friend's hands.

"Does he know you're a Companion-in-training?" Riz asked.

Inara shook her head. "I said I attend a 'diplomacy academy.' It was just-" She sighed. "I suppose I wanted one person I could talk to who wouldn't bring up the subject of my exams. But now it's been almost six months-"

"Six months?" Riz shot upright, to her knees. "You've been talking to this boy in secret for six months?"

"Riz." Inara grabbed her arms, pulling her back onto the bed. "Keep your voice down. Remember the part about this being punishable by expulsion?"

Riz bit her lip, giving Inara a long, hard look. At last she said, quiet, "I think you should tell him."

Inara frowned. "Weren't you the one who wanted to go 'undercover' around boys?"

"That was just a silly fantasy, Inara." Riz leaned forward. "Look, I know why you haven't told him. You want to keep him separate from our world. The real world."

Inara blinked. Is it, though? She let go of a tight breath, and looked away. "Yes," she whispered.

"I understand. Honest, I do. But imagine if it were the other way around. If he was keeping some big secret about who he really was."

Inara drew her lips into a line. "Yes, but... what if I tell him, and he doesn't forgive me?"

"If he's a good person, he will."

"He is a good person." Inara caught herself, and sanded the edge off her voice. "But he's also a very honest one. Brutally honest, sometimes." She smiled. "And so stubborn, I mean, arguing with him is like trying to convince a rock to change colors. But he's easy to talk to, somehow. He's unaffected, and sweet, when he wants to be-" She cut short, cheeks hot.

Riz nodded at her, grinning . "You're sure you don't have just a little bit of flush for him? Just a tiny, miniscule- hey!" She dodged the pillow in Inara's hands, laughing.

One brief yet intense battle later, they flopped down to form yin and yang together on the bed, pillows scattered around them in all directions.

"What does he feel toward you?" Riz asked, barely above a whisper.

Inara chewed her lower lip.

"Come on." Riz sat up, leaning back on her hands. "Don't pretend you haven't read him. It's impossible not to."

Inara pulled herself upright. "Yes," she released through her teeth. "But he is impossible to read. He shows everything."

Riz's brow crinkled. "Then how could it be hard to-"

"No. I mean, he shows everything. Attraction, disgust, warmth, fear, admiration, mischief. And that's just in the span of five minutes." Inara hugged a pillow to her chest. "There's no way of knowing what he really feels."

Riz smirked. "Sounds like the Universe is testing you, jiě jiě."

Inara shook her head, huffing out a breath. "You have no idea."

/*/*\*\

Heavy air enveloped Inara the instant she stepped inside the stables. Tendrils of cold, harbingers of winter fast approaching, followed her in from outside. Inara shut the door behind her.

Darkness cast a grainy film over the interior of the barn. A row of skylight windows let in the only illumination, a monotone grey glow of cloud cover. The stalls lay silent and empty, the horses no doubt turned out in their paddock for the afternoon.

"Mal?" Inara tugged down the hood of her woolen travel cloak, and took a few steps forward. "Are you in here?"

She almost walked past him, not expecting he would be lying on the bench which stretched along the wall outside the tack room. Knees bent, both feet flat on the ground to either side, one hand flung down, the other curled on his chest. His head half-dangled off the end of the bench, in what seemed a rather uncomfortable position. He'd tented a handkerchief over his face.

"Mal…" Inara smiled. She bent over him, and laid a hand on his chest, to prod him awake.

His breath hitched, muscles tensing. Inara pulled her hand back. He groaned.

"Shouldn't've come…" he muttered. "Why d'you always come?"

"What?" Inara's brow knit. "I can't understand you with that silly thing on your face." She lifted the handkerchief away. "Now, what were you-" The words tumbled back down her throat.

Mottled bruises bloomed along Mal's jaw, splotches of dark violet and green. They bore a yellow tint around the edges, which told Inara they were about a week old, but likely still aching. Her heart seized in her chest.

"Mal," she breathed. "What happened to you?"

He grimaced, blinking, as he struggled to sit up. Propped on one elbow, he squinted at Inara. In the hollow of his left eye pooled a deep, wine-colored bruise.

"Uh… Colossus kicked me." A reddened split had barely healed over in his lower lip. "Several times," he added.

Inara unfastened her cloak, fixing him with a look. "This may come as a surprise, but I've had some self-defense and medical training. Enough to know that black eye is thanks to someone's fist, and not the result of any accident you might think up."

Mal heaved a sigh. He swung his right leg over the bench to join the other, and sat up.

"Fine. I was in a fight. And before you start scoldin' me, I heard it all and more from Davis already. Accordin' to him I brought shame on the Councilor and all his ancestors, so I'm on reduced rations for two weeks." He rested his elbows on his knees, one hand cradling his brow. He lifted a finger. "Also, point of interest, I didn't start it. I was a bystander."

Inara pursed her lips. "You must've been standing pretty close." She laid her cloak across the bench, before sitting down next to him.

"I was tryin' to-" He scoffed, and shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I only made things worse."

"I would say violence is generally not the answer."

"'Course you would." He hung his head between his knees.

Inara watched him a moment. "Alright," she said at last, decisive. "First of all, sit up straight." At the look he gave her, she added, "It'll help, trust me. You can lean back against the wall."

He tried, then winced, and lifted up. "Can't. It hurts." He gestured in the air behind his head. "Got hit real bad, back 'a my head. I'm concussed."

"I might've guessed." Inara folded her cloak, and held it against the wall. She pressed her other hand to Mal's shoulder, prompting him to lean back into the improvised pillow. He obeyed, eyeing her. He was fever-warm to the touch, pulse thudding beneath the surface of his skin. Inara took her hand away, a beat too late.

She cleared her throat. "You should keep your head above your heart, as much as possible," she explained. "To prevent blood from pooling in your skull, and swelling your cerebral tissue more than it already has."

"Head over heart. Got it." He closed his eyes.

Inara perked at a thought. "Where's that ointment I gave you?"

He let out a low hum, a sound Inara felt all the way down her spine. "My bunk," he mumbled.

She stood up, and moved toward the small room across the main aisle of the stables.

Mal's eyes snapped open. "Wait, what're you-"

Inara held out her hands, to stay him. "I can get it. This is your bunk, yes?"

The door had been left ajar. Inara caught a slivered view of the room within: humble, but tidier than she'd expected. A notebook lay open on the desk, papers strewn around it. A few well-worn books rested on a shelf above the neatly-made bed.

Before Inara could make out the titles, Mal materialized in front of her, filling the doorway. He braced an elbow against the frame. His breath fell heavy, brushing over Inara's cheeks.

"Not lettin' you just waltz into my bunk."

"I was merely trying to save you the trouble of getting up. It's not as though you have anything to hide from me." She curled her words, half in challenge, half in a question.

"Didn't your fancy school ever teach you about privacy?" Mal laid a finger to his cheek, in mock realization. "Oh, my apologies, I forgot. Privacy don't exist here in the Core. Maybe you'll recognize the Chinese, uh... yǐn sī, right?"

Inara opened her mouth, then clapped it shut. A pesky little voice pointed out that her own room at Madrassa was inspected for contraband or evidence of illicit activity once a week. Even her valuables drawer. But her belongings were respected, always, and the honor of the House was at stake. Surely that was worth more than 'privacy?'

Mal shook his head. "I'll get the stupid ointment, if you're so bent on it. Just- hold on."

He ducked into the room, and spent a moment rummaging, muttering under his breath, before he emerged again, to toss the little clay pot into Inara's hands. She beckoned him back over to the bench, and they resumed their original positions.

Inara opened the lid, and her brow shot up. "It's almost gone." She looked at Mal. "You've been using it."

"Yeah, uh…" He cleared his throat. "Once in a while. Helps me sleep."

"So." Inara dipped her fingers into the pot, with a smirk. "At least Core-produced pharmaceuticals might be worth something."

"Huh." He curled his upper lip, simpering.

Inara paused, fingers lifted halfway to his face. "Do you mind if I…?"

"Go ahead," he murmured.

She dabbed ointment on his bruises, and the cut on his lip. Her fingers moved lightly, mapping the planes of his face. She took this chance to absorb the fine details of him, how his mouth curled up at the very edges, always, even when he wasn't smiling. His eyes rested on her and didn't waver. Inara found herself syncing her own breath with his.

"You know," she started, careful, "I don't think it would hurt you to concede that there are some admirable, even beautiful aspects of the Core."

He grunted, without looking away from her.

"Like… Companions, for example," said Inara lightly. She held her breath.

Mal scoffed. "Thought you were listing admirable qualities."

Inara's heart lurched to one side. She lowered her hand, leaning away from him. "What's wrong with Companions?"

He shrugged. "They act like their slippers don't touch the ground, but they're just trained whores with the seal of Alliance approval. Wrappin' sex in money and fine silk don't make it shénshèng."

Inara had to look away. She forced air, in and out, through her nose. She pressed her voice down, to keep from spitting outright.

"I wonder, Wesley," she hissed, "how you can bear to work on Sihnon in spite of your disdain for every aspect of our culture."

His nostrils flared. "It's just a job." He glared at the ground. "I don't hafta like this place."

"Well, maybe if you were less antagonistic, you wouldn't get beaten up." Inara shut the jar of ointment, with a bit more force than necessary, and set it aside. "Just an idea."

"You sayin' I deserved it?" He barked a laugh. "Gee, maybe you're right. After all, this is exactly what you and your kind expect of me. Dirty, violent, stupid Border-planet scum. Showin' my true colors at last."

"You certainly could work a little harder to prove otherwise." Inara's voice boiled over. The words were out before she could stop them.

Mal's face cooled, closing up. He didn't move and yet, somehow, he held himself at a distance.

"I'm sorry," Inara said helplessly. "That's not what I meant." Her throat was tight and aching. "I just want to help you-"

"How many times do I gotta say it?" Mal shot to his feet, whirling toward her. "I don't need any gorram help. 'Specially not from you." His arms dropped, stiff at his sides, as he turned away. "Just go. And don't come back here no more."

Inara stood up. "Mal, please…"

"Miss Serra." He pressed it down, firm and cold. "Ain't gonna ask again."

Inara didn't move. She counted out the beats of silence and tried, with everything she had, to catch his eyes. He wouldn't yield. Finally, with aching slowness, Inara gathered her cloak from the bench and left the barn, without another word.

She walked up the slope toward the house, every step dragging as if through sand, pulling at her ankles. She didn't bother to turn her hood up against the chill. It pressed into her on all sides, making her small and heavy.

Priestess Song had warned her. "Some lines cannot be crossed."

Inara looked over her shoulder, to see if Mal had followed her. He hadn't. She took several gulps of raw air, letting the wind cool her cheeks.

Then she turned back around, and kept walking.

translations:

qíngrén - lover, sweetheart

jiě jiě - big sister

shénshèng - holy, divine

So, I have an announcement to make: I'm not sure I'll be able to finish this story. Heading into my senior year of college, I'm realizing that my free time for writing will grow slimmer and slimmer as the year goes on, and I want to be honest and upfront about my ability to keep posting. I absolutely hate to abandon any fanfic, not only out of a sense of duty to any readers but also to the story itself. So this is not an abandonment notice! Merely a warning that it may be left unfinished. But I'm not giving up hope yet. (Hey, the first fanfic I wrote was a 110k that took me 4 years to finish, so Solace is already better off, heh.)

Also, I go where my inspiration takes me and, to be honest, I'm not feeling this story as much as I was a couple months ago. Right now I happen to be working on a light and fun Firefly College AU in my spare moments (yep, that's right, a College AU) and enjoying the heck out of it. I don't know if I'll post it here, because I've never really seen modern/college Firefly AUs... which suggests people wouldn't be interested in them. But who knows what the future holds?

As always, reviews are loved and appreciated! Any and all opinions you have to share, on this chapter, on this announcement-of-sorts... it's all fair game. Hope to see you all around!