Chapter 12: Signs of Home

The journey to Persephone was turning out to be very quiet. Everyone was behaving and Mal sometimes wondered if they were there at all. Mal enters the passenger quarters when it catches his eye. He leans forwards and frowns. It was a sign with 'River' painted on it in pink paint in familiar curly writing, surrounded by little pink spirals. He moved further down the corridor. Simon's room has one too written in blue with a white border. There's a small heart dotting the 'i'. That only left one culprit.

"Kaylee!" Mal yells entering the crew corridor. Then he saw the signs outside every door. Zoë and Wash's had little hearts all round their names. She's added a tiny one underneath with a baby bottle on it and 'Baby Mal'. Jayne's is black with scarlet writing. Mal swallows and moved to his door. She has. It's got brown writing and a small yellow flower in each corner.

"KAYLEE!"

"Yes Cap'n?" She says, climbing out of her room.

"What is this?" he points at the sign.

"Aren't they shiny? I made 'Nara one too." She holds it up, all gold and swirly on black. "Ain't it pretty?"

"Kaylee remember what I said…"

"Pffft. Can't stop me Captain. Just making it home again."

She kisses him on the cheek and skips away down the corridor happily, clutching the sign. Mal sighs. He's a mean old man. What in the 'verse possessed her to paint him flowers?

Mal made Monty do his dirty work. A dead man could hardly send a wave to a Companion. How can he face her? He's been 'dead' eight months already. Monty sends a wave to the Companions Guild asking for Lady Sera. They find out she's on Persephone and for five horrible seconds Mal thinks she might have taken up with that gorram Atherton Wing again. Mal feels his palms get sweaty as he hovers out of sight while Monty makes the call.

"Hello?"

Her voice is soft and Mal let's out a soft sigh at the sound of it.

"Monty." She says warmly. "What can I do for you?"

"Thank you for speaking to me Lady Sera," Monty turns on all the charm he has. "I know you must be busy. But I was looking for Malcolm. He's gone rather off the radar recently and I've got wind of a job he may be interested in."

Mal moves so he can see her face. Her composure crumbles for just a minute, her eyes flicker in pain, then she covers it. Her face however remains grim.

"I'm afraid Mal passed away eight months ago."

Mal thinks Monty's faked reaction is just a tad melodramatic. "What of the others? Zoë? Kaylee?" His worry for them is real. Monty had a soft spot for Kaylee like everyone who ever met her.

"No, they're alive."

Mal balls his fists. They're alive. He feels uninvited tears in his eyes.

But Inara continues sadly. "But we lost Jayne, and three passengers we were carrying."

Mal feels his breath catch. The other shuttle. All of them. They never found them or did they? Are they dead?

Mal can't drag his eyes away from Inara's. The old sparkle seems faded. But she's still beautiful. Its all Mal can do to stop himself stepping into camera view. He's give her a heart attack. It isn't fair. She's never believe it anyway.

But Zoë and Wash, and his little Kaylee are alive!

Monty gives Inara his sympathy and says goodbye graciously. He looks at Mal and decides it was worth it. Mal's face has the biggest goofiest grin he's ever seen.

Inara's room is just that, her room, despite being a passenger dorm. It already smelt of incense and expensive perfume, and a patchwork travelling quilt made of bright silk squares lay on the bunk. Inara sat on this, cross-legged and barefoot, dressed in a loose simple pair of aqua silk trousers and a matching top. It felt like home, coming back to Serenity. Like finding family. Albeit broken. And finding Mal was…Inara was confused. Mal wasn't the same. He tried to be. But she'd seen the truth in his eyes. The old Mal would have let Simon walk away. This Mal was so desperate to hold on that he'd kidnap a man to make it happen. Mal had been so alone, so afraid. Inara couldn't imagine what had happened to him, injured, running. Oh Mal.

Her contemplation was interrupted by a knock on her door.

"Come in," she called softly.

Mal's head appeared round the door first then he stepped into the room. He slid the door shut behind him.

"Hello Mal. What can I do for you?" she stood up gracefully.

"I don't know."

Inara frowned at him momentarily.

"It's the doc's fault…"

"Simon?"

"Yeah, making him face reality got me thinkin'. When I told you I didn't want to be alone again…" he steps forward. "Well, I really meant you."

She blinked and tried not to let it show on her face. What is Mal getting at?

Mal steps forwards again, so now he is mere inches from her. He could see every scrap of carefully applied make up. The perfectly blushed cheeks, the smudge free red lips, the flawless eye shadow, the curled black lashes and kohl lined eyes. And he sees that all of it is fake. A front, a show. Armour. Against what he wasn't sure. But when he looked her in the eye that was real. No armour there. He didn't do it often; it made him sweaty and uncomfortable. He looked her in the eye now.

"Tell me you didn't mourn me. Tell me you didn't miss me." His voice is steady. "Tell me you don't feel anything for me…"

"Mal please…" Her heart is racing.

He won't break eye contact until he is rewarded by seeing her falter, look away, cheeks flushing ever so slightly beneath the blush. He awkwardly puts a hand on her waist and pulls her the last few inches to him.

"Don't Mal…we shouldn't…because…"

He cuts her off. "Because what? Because I'm dead? Because it's been six years? Because of the crew? Think of a new excuse Inara, I've thought of all of these. Give me a real reason, for you, and then, well, I'll walk away and never breathe a word of this."

Please don't have a reason Inara. Just don't.

Her heart is pounding so hard against her ribs that Inara is sure Mal must be able to hear it.

"Mal…" her voice is like a plea.

His lips are as soft as his stubble is rough. He closed his eyes when he kissed her, Inara noted to herself.

Mal's hand tightened against her waist and his other went to the back of her neck. Inara shut her eyes and let him kiss her, mind in turmoil. This is Mal. The man she's told herself she would never…sworn to herself…lied to herself. Pretty lies about Companion etiquette and business.

Without a word, Mal pushes her back onto the bunk. He fumbles urgently with her clothing. Getting his hands caught and threatening to rip the delicate silk.

He smells of leather, and the faintest traces of gunpowder and engine oil. His clothing is rough against her skin. She catches sight of the black tattoo on his hip and trails her fingertips across it. She feels him shudder under her hands. She knows what to do.

Mal wonders if her ability to turn him to jelly is just part of her act. The finger nails dragging at the skin of his back, her teeth catching at her lip, the moans at the perfect moment. It wasn't an act. Inara wasn't that good an actress, he swore to himself. He mashes his lips to hers roughly, all pretence at romantic formality gone.

Inara knew Mal wasn't skilled in the act of love but something in his untamed taking of her, excited her more than she could explain. She'd had better lovers before. But this time the sex wasn't about money, or power or fulfilling someone else's fantasy. It was about need. A deep down desire burning in both of them.

But Mal is the one who makes sure they have eye contact when they came, trying to keep quiet so the rest of the crew don't hear through the thin walls.

Afterwards they lie tangled in the silk quilt and each other's limbs. Mal notes with some satisfaction that her red lipstick is smudged, and thinks she's never looked more beautiful. Inara's face is unreadable to him as ever. Mal never knew what was going on behind her eyes. He felt cheated and a little hurt, after what they'd just done.

Inara knows Mal is staring at her, this goofy sleepy smile on his face, and she doesn't know what to do. She feels comfortable lying in the warmth of his arms. But this is Mal. How could she have been so stupid? She can't do that with Mal however much she wanted to. She has no idea what to do or say? Why not? It is her job to know what to do in this situation.

A moment later she gets up and reaches for a robe. Mal suddenly feels awkward. Maybe this was a horrible horrible mistake. He sits up and wraps the quilt over his nakedness.

"Well," he says finally, after watching Inara rearrange her hair in the mirror for two minutes of silence. "I got work to get done. Ain't got time to be sittin' around like a Companion." He grabs his clothes from the floor, feeling angry at himself for succumbing to her feminine wiles.

He pulls his clothes on roughly, buttoning his shirt up wrong. He snaps his suspenders on to his shoulder, winces, pretends he hasn't just hurt himself with his own clothing and snatches open the door.

Inara watches him not sure what to say.

"I got captainy things to get done."

"Mal…"

He jerks the door shut behind him without waiting for her to finish.

"…don't go…Mal…I…"

He hesitates behind the door for a moment breathing heavily and hears Inara's stifled sobbing, and hates himself.