Title: Fading Into the Real Me
Author: SerenityMeiMei (or Faith5x5 depending on which site)
Rating: PG/K
Pairing: Mal/Inara
Summary: Inara looks back on her non-relationship with Mal. Fluff at the end. Be gentle, it's my first Firefly fic...
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a fantabulous memory-full weekend of hanging out with one of our BDH's!
It's been more than two years.
Twenty-eight insanely long months of pining and unshared feelings, distant wanton looks, and nit-picky, totally uncalled-for fights.
It was denial in its finest form.
But everything changed after Miranda.
"You ready to get off this heap and back to a civilized life?"
"I, uh... I don't know."
"Good answer."
It had taken less than twenty seconds. A simple exchange of words. A shy smile and a cocky grin. Maybe even the smallest hint of a blush on her skin as her stomach fluttered and flopped in giddy twitches.
Serenity is, and always would be, home to her.
She had tried to deny it for so long. Kept her defenses up just as years of training had taught her to do. But, the bonds that she'd formed, and the family she'd fallen into had made that next to impossible to maintain.
Especially when it came to Mal.
She'd broken almost every code and rule that she knew of when it came to that man. She'd allowed lust to guide her emotions; anger and jealousy viciously cracking through her usually cool and calm demeanor.
Without realizing it, she had let him gradually ebb his way into every aspect of her life.
Meetings with clients had somehow become a demeaning chore, forced upon her by the rules of a society that she was rapidly falling out of. Month after month she found herself conducting business less professionally, not noticing or caring that she was slowly spinning out of control.
It had taken Nandi's death for her to realize that everything she'd worked for, everything that she'd ever known as a Companion, was slipping away from her. And she'd run scared. Told Mal that she was leaving. It had pained her to see the look on his face; hope turned to shock and despair. The only thing worse than knowing that she'd hurt him, was the overwhelming feeling of complete misery when she realized that he wasn't going to come after her; plead for her to stay.
A broken heart and four weeks later, she'd found herself staring at Serenity as it flew away from the Training House, away from her, and out of atmo. It should have been easier; letting them go. But, it wasn't. A part of her had died the moment she'd stepped off that ship. Which was something she'd never felt before, and hoped that she's never have to again.
Before she knew it though, tear-filled days and sleepless nights slowly passed, turning into weeks, and then months. But, no matter how hard she'd tried, she couldn't just forget them. She couldn't turn her back on the people that she loved.
She'd reached her breaking point.
Two nights before the Operative had come to visit her she'd slipped away just after dinner, collapsing helplessly onto the bathroom floor in her suite, sobs shuddering through her body as she realized what she'd done.
She'd left them… Him.
Sheydra had found her a few hours later curled up in the same spot, clutching one of Mal's shirts that she'd accidentally mixed in with one of her loads of laundry months before, her face flushed and pressed against the cool tile beneath her. Her long lashes had fluttered open when she'd heard the gentle click of heels come to a stop in the doorway, mascara sat smudged and dried on her cheeks as she wearily looked up to her. The exhaustion and desperation in her eyes had said it all.
The rest of that night they'd sat huddled together, and she whispered things that she'd never told another living soul. Finally confronting her love for the crew, and her feelings toward Mal. She had prayed that Sheydra could be trusted, that her secrets would be safe with her. And they had been.
It didn't matter much now, though. The Guild had found out anyway. Word had inevitably spread that she and the crew had been the ones to send out the Miranda Signal, single handedly starting the chain reaction that took down half of the Alliance Fleets and made people start questioning the governments authority.
For her, the news had come in the form of a wave. Her House Mother, a woman that she loved dearly, had regrettably been forced to her change her status with The Guild from active, to retirement. She could tell that it had pained her Mother to do so, but they both knew that it had been inevitable since the moment she had chosen to leave Sihnon.
She was officially no longer a Companion.
As saddened as that made her, honestly she'd been somewhat relieved. The responsibilities that came with being someone with such stature in society had quickly fallen away, and she'd found out what not having to answer to anyone else truly meant. It had been a long time since she wasn't under anyone's watchful eye, and that was much more liberating than she could have ever imagined.
But, somewhere, in the back of her mind, she missed it. There were times when she was alone, in the hours past midnight when everyone on Serenity was already asleep, that she found herself remembering what she was; what she could have been. It was almost impossible not to after you've lost everything, even if it had been what she'd wanted.
Which is one of the reasons she found herself in the dining room once again, sipping on some hot tea, trying to savor not only the taste but what it represented. For the past two weeks she'd been steadily emptying her supply, somehow convinced that with the last cup, and consequently the last of her richest luxuries, she could finally move on. Become the new Inara.
She grinned to herself as she heard the muffled click of Mal's bunk being unlocked. It was almost like clockwork. He always knew when she was awake, no matter what time it was, and without a word he would climb his ladder and make his way down to her.
What had started out as a coincidence the first few sleep cycles quickly became much more each night he continued to come. He had never asked her if she minded his company, just sat down comfortably next to her, taking the copper tea pot from in front of her to pour himself a cup of the lukewarm liquid.
As the days passed she found him subconsciously sliding his chair closer to hers, sometimes draping an arm casually across the back of her chair, until finally out of the need for comfort, and she suspected her own desire to be closer to him, she had moved them over to the lounge. He never said a thing. Just followed her with an amused grin, waiting for her get settled before he went through all of the motions that he'd seen her to so many times before, the end result being two hot cups of their usual drink. Even though the tea had been a bit strong, it had been the best cup she'd ever tasted, simply because he had made it for her.
Inara looked up as Mal stumbled sleepily into the kitchen, running a tired hand through his bed-mussed hair, his half open shirt revealing a few scars across his well sculpted chest as it hung over the sleep pants he always wore. She tried to hide a small smirk as he flopped down onto the loveseat next to her, so close that the warmth from his body seeped into her skin like it had finally found it's second home.
"Couldn't sleep?"
She chuckled. It was the same question every night, and not once had he received a different answer. "Something like that."
Mal grinned and glanced back at her, a little twinkle shimmering in his eye as he let his gaze linger on hers just a bit longer than he normally would.
The edges of her mouth curved shyly as she felt her body buzz with the hope that she'd always denied herself when it came to him. Would it be different this time? Would he trust her enough to let her in?
Mal tentatively rested a hand on her knee as he shifted the cushions, and moved closer to her. "You sure you wanna be helping' us with the thieving' on this next job?" He paused, and looked at his lap. "I just… I don't want you gettin' hurt, or nothin'."
She covered his fingers with her own and squeezed them reassuringly, pleased that he cared so much.
"I have no doubt in my mind…"
He nodded and turned to pour his tea, silently accepting her choice to be involved. Inara watched him closely and waited a few seconds before picking up the cup that she'd been nursing earlier, using it to hide the teasing grin that had found its way to her lips.
"Someone has to rescue you when everything goes horribly wrong."
He chuckled and shook his head, looking at her again. "'Spose you're right about that part. But, you didn't hear me say it."
Inara smiled and scooted closer to Mal as he leaned back against the small couch, sighing happily as he threw an arm around her like he'd done it a thousand times before and pulled her flush against his side.
It had taken years, but she was finally where she was supposed to be.
Home.
-End.