DISCLAIMER: ALL belongs to the evil genius Joss Whedon whom I worship!

Notes: First, kudos to my brand new beta Miss Malfoy who has graciously volunteered to help me with the HTML so that y´all can have more fun reading this. (Guess it was pretty obvious that I suck with this HTML thing!) Thank you, thank you for taking the time and pity on little old me!

Second yeah here goes the fluff aahhhh scene! Grrrr am actually blushing here. I might have gotten carried away, so if it's too cheesy, the wine and crackers are on me, folks!

SAND AND TIDE

It seemed as though the words hung heavy in the silence between them. Neither River nor Mal moved. Serenity´s captain just stared at the girl. She returned his gaze, her eyes wide like a child´s. It struck Malcolm Reynolds as odd that lately he had started to analyze most of her words, looking for a hidden subtext or hint as though there were different layers to what she was saying. Right now the prevailing question was did she read his mind? Did she mean to tell him something specific? Mal had half a mind to tell her that it was none of her business, but looking at her he couldn´t make himself. When he looked at River Tam he saw the same thing he saw every time he looked at Kaylee: a sweet, pretty girl; some kind of innocence that needed to be protected from the cruelty of the world he had seen. They were his responsibility, his to protect. The fact that inside River´s mind dwelled a stone cold killer, an entity that didn´t even comprehend the concept of mercy didn´t factor into his perception of her most of the time. Neither did the fact that Kaylee was a clever, self-sufficient and able mechanic. They were young girls; they were part of his crew. They were his responsibility. He couldn´t find harsh words to say to River or Kaylee. They were not meant to being talked to in that way.

River tilted her head to the side in that peculiar way that made him wonder again if the girl was indeed picking up on his thoughts or emotions. She gave him a small smile. Finally Mal got up from his chair, stretching his arms over his head to relax the tense muscles in his back. "Not sure if I think it´s too funny... with the killing and all." Mal said at long last.

River shrugged, tugging dark strands of her long hair behind her ear. "I guess you're right, but it is true none the less."

"Not sure if I get what you mean, River."

"There is a lesson to be learned from this legend, don´t you think?"

Mal arched an eyebrow at her. He started to wish the preacher had never started with the whole thing to begin with. There was only one lesson Malcolm Reynolds could derive from that darn legend; if you let yourself get in too deep people got hurt, people let themselves be destroyed. Love would eventually end up getting you hurt.

But River didn´t seem to expect an answer from him anyway. "My brother taught me courage, even if he doesn´t know," she told him quietly. "He doesn´t think of himself as a valiant, and yet he took the risk rescuing me, becoming a fugitive. Ultimately of course he did it for love, for his only sister. But... the legend´s lesson; that you have to do everything in your power to protect the ones you love, no matter what the cost. That lesson... I learned from you."


She gave him another small smile. "Thank you. Good night Captain."


Mal ´s eyes followed her slow retreat into the corridor with furrowed brows. For an instant another question popped up in his mind; if those were the things lil´ River Tam had learned from him and her brother... Mal couldn´t help but wonder what the girl had learned from Jayne. All kinds of nasty habits came to mind !
Mal pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. Now that he thought about it, he was quite sure he didn´t really want to know...

It was a bad idea. Some part of Mal knew that. And he was starting to understand what had Jayne so aggravated about River sometimes.

"The gorram´ girl sees through you, Mal. No matter what you do can´t run from it or hide from her. Those ruttin´ dark eyes can see it all."

The mercenary had been right. There was also no stopping the girl once she was talking about things, and when she was gone those things did not leave with her. On the contrary... they hung on to one's mind like ticks, tugging and insisting until one couldn´t help but mull over them. Jayne might have found a way to deal with that, as well he should; River being his girlfriend and all. But why do I? Mal asked himself as his legs were still finding their way through the ship without any input whatsoever from his brain. He was the captain of this gorram ship! He did as he pleased! He did not need... Oh well ..there we are. Mal gnawed on his lower lip, staring at the door to Inara´s shuttle as though it was the gate of Tartarus.

Inara was sitting on her couch, reclining against its back. It never ceased to amaze Mal how the companion achieved the effect of looking as though she was posing for a portrait without seeming pretentious. Inara never just sat anywhere; in her very own effortless graceful way she managed to be the embodiment of composure and elegance, no matter what she did.

Even the way she lifted her head at his entrance was a beautiful gesture. Her appearance was as striking as ever, her beauty undimmed by the subsiding bruises on one side of her face. The discolouration had changed from a pale purple and green to a pallid yellow. In a few days even that would be gone. Looking at her now, Malcolm Reynolds more than just understood Jayne´s urge to beat someone for splitting River´s lip. It made him want to wring Niska´s neck too bad the bastard was already dead.


"You didn´t knock," the companion pointed out, her voice light and soft.


"Some things never change, I guess," Mal returned, shrugging as he looked around her luxuriant shuttle.


"I guess they don´t." she said with a sad smile, straightening out the fabric of her gown where it stretched over her legs. The movement had Mal mesmerized for a second. He tore his eyes away from her with an effort, inspecting three thick scented candles that were burning on a table to his right. He was here to do something, but he did not know how to go about it. Ever since that one night when they had kissed he had wanted to apologize to her. Still, even though the urge to talk to her had become a heavy weight that he carried around in his chest, Mal had to admit that he wasn´t really sure what he was to apologize for.

" You know.." he finally started, looking at where she sat on the couch, legs tucked under her. " .that new job of ours? Turns out to be pretty darn interesting. Did you know that our preacher knows quite a thing or two 'bout antiques?"

Inara looked at him searchingly, trying to discern his intent. No matter how long she waited or how long she tried, she would never really understand Malcolm Reynolds. It was one of the things that appealed to her. She´d never tell him that of course, but deep inside she knew that the challenge of understanding him would always be part of what called out to her.

Mal pursed his lips as she returned his look with glittering, bright eyes. "Could give us a whole lot more history on our target than I had a mind of hearing, I can tell you. Almost had lil´ Kaylee swooning over the legend thing with the sword and the concubine. I bet you Simon won´t have a good night´s sleep, now that according to that legend a dagger is a to be considered an appropriately romantic gift. The doctor´s gonna have nightmares of Jayne presenting his baby sister with a knife as long as her arm." He frowned. "Come to think about it, that´s an idea that´ll give me nightmares as well."

Inara blinked a few times, not sure if she had gotten all the information from Mal´s ramblings right. "A sword and a dagger?" she asked, watching the expression on his face change. "With an inscription in Japanese and a dragon etched into each hilt?"

Mal raised an eyebrow at Inara. "You know it?"

The companion gave him an amused smile, almost as though he had said something hilarious, then she nodded her head. "Yes, I know it... the legend of the two-dragon blade."

"River said it was funny..things people are willing to do for love."

Inara´s eyes narrowed at that, just a tiny fraction. She felt the urge to take a deep breath, to calm herself. Suddenly she was at a loss. "I always thought so myself." She answered softly after a while, looking at her hands. "The concubine who gave her life for the wife she didn´t even know. She must have loved him very much. Not just more than her life..more than her pride. Loyal unto death." Inara looked up with an insecure smile. "Every companion knows the story of the general and his mistress."

Mal chuckled. "Should have known legends like this would be the lore of your profession."

The words had left his mouth before he had even thought about it. The moment he realised what he had said, he cursed himself. The smile faltered on Inara´s lips, being replaced by the non-committal mask of control she wore whenever she tried to keep things from touching her.

"Why did you come here, Mal?" she asked him, her angry undertone barely controlled.

"I came to see how you are!"

"How did you think I am?" She threw the words back at him but she didn´t yell. She felt very much like beating on him right then. But as fast as the anger had came it dissolved, leaving her sad and resigned. "I have barely seen you in the past few days and now you just show up here in the middle of the night and ask me how I am? I am hurting. I hurt inside... how are you?"

He looked at her for the longest moment, trying to think of something clever or witty to say. But he knew that this time it wouldn´t suffice. This time it wouldn´t be enough. If it wouldn´t be the truth this time, they would probably never settle things. "I thought if we saw less of each other it would make things easier. We´d be okay."

Inara gave him a very unladylike snort.

"It didn´t.." Inara slowly unfolded her legs. " And we aren´t.."

"I can see that."

"Can you?"

"It ." He took a deep breath, crossing his arms in front of his chest but still holding her gaze. "It didn´t make me feel for you any less. It didn´t make me want you any less," Mal ground out, his voice so low that his words were barely audible.

Inara stared at him, eyes wide. She wasn´t sure if she had heard him right, but her heart raced so fast that she could feel it pounding against her ribs like a trapped little bird. Had he really said it just then had she understood? Inara swallowed hard, rising from her seat in one liquid, graceful motion. He just stood there, a few feet away from her, transfixing her with his intent stare, but the schooled companion could read in his eyes now just as she had learned to read in the eyes of so many other man. It was part fear, part need.and for once it was a need that he was owning up to. Inara could understand this much. But there was another side to that need forcing its way up to the surface of her own emotion now; the need Inara had tried to push away for a long, long time. The need to draw the part of him, where he had stowed away all his hidden grief and pain over the defeat of the browncoats, out of him and replace it with something bettersomething bright and warm.

"It´s not too late, Mal." Inara whispered, bridging the distance between them, "...if we can just forgive each other and... forget. If we can just let go of everything that has us bound to our places. We could be okay..."

Mal couldn´t help but scowl. That was just it... he could not lose control. What if things went wrong...? They had before! Carefully he lifted a hand to run it through Inara´s hair, cautiously cupping her bruised cheek. It was all the invitation Inara needed to step into him until they stood flush against one another.
It was the moment of truth, they both knew it. They both hated being vulnerable, yet here they were.

"You came for me." Inara whispered, looking up at him before his mouth closed over hers. It was a soft, tentative kiss at first that slowly turned into something much more taking and yearning. Mal´s arms closed around Inara´s slender form, pulling her closer, molding her body to his as she gave a little murmur of encouragement. Her scent enveloped him, the softness of her skin, the way she reciprocated all of his actions filled his senses and erased every attempt of conscious thought or doubt there might have been. They had both wanted this for so long that after a few moments all efforts of being soft or taking things slow were abandoned.

"Nobody can know.." Inara whispered as Mal started kissing her neck while her fingers were busy fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His fingers dancing up and down her spine in the attempt to find a way to get rid of her dress other than tearing it apart with his bare hands.

"Shiney... none of their business anyway."