A/N: Wow, it's been a while! Sorry, basically once I was done with midterms, I headed straight into finals. But a lot has happened in the Castle-verse since I last left off. Guess what! Castle is fluent in Chinese. You know what this means, don't you? My story is canon! lol Just kidding, but I do love all the various nods to Firefly that the show likes to sprinkle in every so often. Also, you know how I named Zoe and Wash's son Kai? Well, I didn't realize this when I came up with the name, but Joss Whedon's wife is named Kai (it's gender neutral). Small world, ain't it? Anyway, I'm sure you've already skipped over this part and gotten right to the story...

Chapter 15:

"You don't have to give up your bed for me," Inara said to Mal later on that night. "I really don't mind the sofa."

"No guest of mine is sleeping on that thing," said Mal, exchanging the sheets on his bed for clean ones. "And since you say you won't leave until you convince me to come with you, you'll probably be here for a pretty long time."

"At least I've made progress," she said.

"Huh?"

"You said probably just now," said Inara.

"Slip of the tongue," said Mal

"Oh," said Inara, a trace of a smile on her lips. "Of course, my mistake."

Mal smoothed down the comforter, giving it a final pat for good measure. "Well," he said. "You're all set. There's a spare towel in the master bathroom. And seeings how you didn't bring any luggage, Martha graciously is letting you borrow some of her clothes- they should fit you somewhat."

"Thank you," she said.

"Are you sure you'll be alright here?" he asked her.

"I've gotten used to sleeping in strange beds," said Inara.

"Sleeping?" smiled Mal. "Didn't imagine there was ever much of that going on."

"So what did you imagine then?" asked Inara.

Mal blushed, and began to stammer, saying, "I didn't... you... I mean... Boy, I've forgotten what it's like talking to you sometimes."

"And...?" asked Inara.

"Can't say I didn't entirely miss it," he confessed. "What about you?"

"I'll admit," said Inara. "That there have been times that I did heavily notice the loss of your company."

"I thought whores were supposed to be used to men leaving them."

"You know," said Inara. "I've almost missed you calling me that... almost.

"And what about you," she continued. "A novelist. I never realized you were so well spoken."

"I'm more educated then I let on," he said.

"Could have fooled me," she said.

"Not that difficult of a task," Mal said.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment before breaking out into a small fit of laughter. "God, I missed this," said Inara, still smiling.

Somehow the gap between them had decreased, and Mal was standing over her. He quickly noticed and retreated back towards the door. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he said. "It's getting kind of late."

"Yeah," she agreed.

Mal turned to leave when, all of a sudden, Inara jumped to attention, saying, "Oh god, I've completely forgotten! Mal, hold on a second."

Mal faced her again and watched as she rummaged through a deep pocket, brandishing a folded piece of paper. "During all of today's excitement, I forgot to give you this."

"What is it?" he asked, taking the paper from her outstretched hand.

"Right before I left," said Inara. "River handed me a note; I didn't understand her message, but perhaps you will."

Mal read the words aloud, saying, "'It was winter, so the bird slept. Now it's spring, and the bird must again become what it once was. But before it can soar, it must remember the first rule of flying.'"

He refolded the note and looked up again at Inara. "I see little River hasn't changed."

"Do you know what it means, though?" asked Inara.

Mal frowned. "Can't say I do."

"Too bad," said Inara. "It sounded nice, though."

"Yeah," said Mal, heavy in thought. "Well, good night."

"Good night," said Inara.

Mal tossed on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. The quiet of the darkness provided no substitute for his mind to meditate over instead of all that had happened to him over the last few days.

His crew had been quite persistent in trying to bring him back home. But as they say, you can't always go home again. Just as the ranch where he grew up was long demolished to the ground, and the valleys of Shadow where he used to play cowboys with the hired help's children were now cratered by ammunition, and his mother's voice- his real mother's- could no longer sing him sweet lullabies as he drifted off to sleep at night, just as all those things were already half-forgotten memories, he knew that Serenity and its crew would follow the same route. Malcolm Reynolds was another life; he was Richard Castle now, and he could not just erase all that because he was feeling a bit nostalgic.

Mal sighed and reached over to turn on the lamp on the nearby table. He sat up, rubbing his face. He stared at the folded square of River's note, which he had dropped onto the coffee table before he tried in vain to go to sleep.

He hesitated for a moment before picking up the note. He unfolded it and scanned the message again. He had, of course, lied to Inara about not knowing what the words meant. If anything, he always felt like he understood River a lot more than some of the others, even Simon sometimes.

He recalled what he once told River so long ago about the first rule of flying, of what kept a boat in the air. You can learn all the math in the 'verse, but you take a boat in the air you don't love, she'll shake you off just as sure as the turning of the worlds. He believed in that once, and, if he was truly honest with himself for once in his life, then he still believed it now. Others could keep their God- he traded in his faith long ago. But, in exchange for the collapse of Heaven in the wake of a hellish war, he sought answers in the blackness of the void; because no matter how dark things got, there was always a new star to shine through the gloom, there was something new to hope in just ahead.

Even now, in building a new life, a new family, a new career, he was never able to escape his memories of the war. He supposed that was the real reason he continued to help Beckett. All the senseless death he witnessed... he could never understand how people could let it happen, could just leave them there, sick and injured and dying, all under the banner of peace and prosperity. Now, with Kate, he could at least discover on a micro-level why people could do the horrible things they did.

But was he any better than them? That question always seemed to haunt him throughout the years. Was he worthy of being so self-righteous, to stand up and fight against Goliath? It was true, he had done some shady business over the years, had even killed to protect himself and others... He had also lied to those he cared about, and that was something he could not just flee from like he did the Alliance, but had to face every single day.

"Dad?" he heard a soft voice ask suddenly.

Mal jumped in his seat, turning to face his daughter, clad in pajamas and fuzzy slippers over in the kitchen.

"What are you doing up?" he asked Alexis.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, as she poured herself a glass of water. "Want some?" she offered.

"Sure," he said. Alexis poured a second glass and joined her father in the living room.

"You okay, Dad?" she asked, seeing the solemn expression on his face.

"Yeah," he said. "I've just been thinking about some things." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Alexis, you know I love you a lot, right?"

"You're not dying, are you?" she asked, giving him a strange look.

"No," he laughed. "But there's something I want... need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago."

"You can tell me anything," Alexis said, searching into his eyes and grasping his hand in hers.

Mal looked at Alexis, saw the concern on her face. He knew how much she loved him, and just hoped it was enough to forgive him. He was not looking for absolution for his sins, but was afraid that by confessing that, as a consequence, he would lose the one good thing he had left in his life. After so much loss, he could not bear to lose her as well. But he finally had to be honest to her, or else, he realized, he did not deserve her in the first place.