A/N: Thank you everyone for the feedback. It is much appreciated, and I will definitely be taking all of your ideas and opinions into consideration while writing this.

One more disclaimer; the story is slightly an AU, meaning the characters may be different, as well as the history, but many concepts will remain the same.

Anything But Love

II. Beauty's Beholder

"You are so beautiful...," he told her, admiring her under the dim candle light.

The pads of his fingertips drew circles on the soft, golden skin of her bare arm, leaving behind a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

She giggled girlishly in response, and tried to fight off the burn in her cheeks at both the compliment, and his intimate touches.

He smirked then. "I know, you must hear that from all of your clients, and by now have grown sick of it," he comprehended.

She shook her head, still smiling. "It doesn't mean I don't like hearing you say it," she assured him.

He leaned in and kissed her then, deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed, and the sheets that covered her naked body shifted. He hovered over her again, spreading her legs open with the force of his knees...

Invasion.

That's what it felt like to her. Sure, they could sugar coat it with kinder words, but what Inara became the moment she'd stepped off of the luxury cruiser, was an unwanted foreigner. Her sweetly smiling husband would have her believe otherwise, though. However, he had always been the fool, and her even more foolish for ever having believed in him. Not anymore though; she knew better now. She knew him too well to fall for his treachery and misconception of ideals.

"We're going to fix this planet, qīn'ài. Put it back together, right the wrongs. Together, we'll make it flourish again," Atherton told her, truly believing in the good nature of his mission, despite its other obvious implications.

Shadow had one settlement, thanks to the Alliance. During the bitter war, they'd ensured the planet was nearly inhospitable, poisoning the earth with what was now often referred to as 'The Cleansing', and destroying almost all the life that occupied it, while severely damaging the rest. Then, as if to rub salt in the wound, they'd sentenced what was left of the resistance to move there, on a permanent basis. No one was allowed to leave without express permission. A planetary prison; that was what had become of what was once a beautiful, fertile world. It would forever be an example the Alliance would use in efforts to quell any further questions to their power and judgement.

The people of Shadow did what they could with the hand they were dealt, foraging the land that had managed to somehow survive, and creating a livelihood by up taking whatever meager jobs the Alliance offered them, with an even less impressive pay. They would persevere, no matter that the battle had been lost. They'd been shamed, insulted, banished, and yet they stood strong together. A tight knit family, bonding over the great loss and grief they shared. The Alliance had taken many things from them, but perhaps their freedom had been the worst toll yet.

And now, years later, the Alliance would infiltrate them again, reaping the rewards of their labour with a greedy hand and masking it under the guise of forgiveness. Suddenly, Shadow was a point of interest again, and who better than Atherton Wing to join in on the project and use it to finally make a name for himself? He would prove himself worthy, and become a separate entity from his father at long last.

Inara, as his wife, would have little choice but to tag along, leaving behind all she'd come to know in exchange for a few miserable years in isolation, where her husband would be off working and having frivolous affairs, whilst she dawdled on at home on her lonesome. It was in her to have fought it, of course, but the last time she had gone head to head with the prominent Alliance family she'd married into, the results had been far from pretty. Her disobedience would not be tolerated; the Wing family had ensured she was aware of that.

Still, they weren't entirely morons about the whole ordeal; the core folk lived separately from the settlers. Their homes would be guarded by walls and Alliance military, in case any rim dwellers got too curious or were out on a blood hunt. Tension was still thick between the two sides, and that wasn't like to change any time soon. No one would forget the damage done, the lives lost. Wounds were still fresh, some literally and others figuratively, despite the time that had elapsed since the brutal war. It would come as no surprise if some of the soldiers turned mercenaries would want to seek out a bit of vengeance for all of their Alliance ridden woes.

"What will I do?" She'd finally managed to ask her husband, already knowing she would hate his answer.

Having left behind her job, and her previous life as well, Inara was very much aware of the predicament she would be in should her husband not follow through on his promises. There wasn't any way she could use her array of talents and skills on a planet such as Shadow, and would therefore be secluded into the role of dutiful housewife; a lifestyle that may have been in favour of others, but was certainly not for her.

"Maybe I can help with the project? Public relations, perhaps?" she'd offered, feeling eager at the prospect of working her charm as she always did, and socializing with the people of unique ilk.

Atherton had frowned deeply, the lines on his face changing his handsome, youthful features into something darker. "You know how father feels about your meddling. Not to mention, how many people will take a whore seriously? If anything, you'd only be a negative example if we allowed you to run amok as a face of this project."

She bristled at the harshness of his words, and concealed her temper as best she could, but her knuckles had paled where she clutched the arms of her seat, fingernails digging into the fine leather. Atherton was so nonchalant about it that he barely took notice of how he had offended her, not even looking in her direction when he spoke, choosing to pore over the many screens before him instead. Even after proposing to her, even after years of marriage, he still saw her as nothing more than a whore. In his mind, he had tried to make an honest woman out of her, but over the years, seemed to start believing in his father's words that a whore would always be a whore, no matter how you dressed her up. Or, perhaps, it was just his way of getting back at her for refusing him her body. He had always been a spiteful man.

Inara smiled, forced and tight lipped. "Well, I can't just sit at home all the time, now can I?" She sniped, agitated.

Atherton still wouldn't look at her, and ignored her clear dissatisfaction when he asked, "What's wrong with that? It's what most women would do. You have all the money you could ask for, go buy yourself something to keep you entertained."

There it was again; money.

Why couldn't she just be happy with the money?

Try as she might, she just could not get it into Atherton's head that money was not what she had taken vows with, and it was certainly not what she'd wanted to grow old and die with. Then again, neither was the man sitting across from her, she noted.

There went any notion of them fixing their marriage, then. Her days and nights would be spent cooped inside, reading books or watching videos on the cortex until she grew bored and fell asleep. From the moment they'd moved into their spacious, air conditioned house on Shadow, Atherton was a ghost. He was always off on business expeditions around the planet, socializing with important people and what not. Meanwhile, Inara watched the time tick on by, trapped inside her little dollhouse, and wondered on the possibilities of her life had she not chosen Atherton. She found that she often wandered around, getting used to her new gilded cage, and learning of all its nooks and crannies. She cooked, she cleaned, and she would organize things over and over again until satisfied. Sometimes, on the nights Atherton spent away from their bed, she played dress up. She would doll up, put on some of her finest outfits, high heels, and best makeup, straighten her unruly curls, and admire her handy work.

She would assess her appearance in the mirrors around the house, and learn to appreciate her youth and beauty when no one else would. She was almost ashamed to admit it, but it was the only way she could ensure that she was still desirable, that all her schooling hadn't been for not. Having a husband who found himself in the arms of other women was not exactly a confidence booster in any regard, and she found herself pining over what she'd lost.

She'd also put on the racy stuff; the tight, short, smaller clothes that left little to the imagination. It could have been nothing but a lace teddy, or a sheer night gown, the slits on each side of the fabric high enough to hit her waist, and expose the gentle curves of her hips. She'd leave her hair natural; tousled, jet black curls falling past her shoulders to the small of her back. Makeup would be at a minimum. Her long, cinnamon coloured legs would be exposed, as well as the tantalizing flesh of her soft, supple breasts. She'd forgo a bra, and wear her laciest thong underneath the flimsy dress. Sometimes, while she'd be walking around her house in such attire, she'd notice an Alliance officer walking past, catching a glimpse of her from the window. The reaction was always the same; the double take, the slack-jawed expression, and the shameless staring until they'd realize whose home it was they were spying into. Reluctantly, they'd turn away, as if they'd seen nothing at all. She knew they talked about her; the beautiful and lonely housewife of Atherton Wing, neglected and in need of a serious romping session. She ignored the gossip, though; she was never one to care what others had to say of her. If she did, she wouldn't have been half as successful at her previous career.

It was pathetic, how she longed for any kind of reminder of who she once had been. But, it was the only way she could cling to the life she had been so used to. No amount of expensive clothes or makeup would ever redeem her, she knew that. But she hadn't earned any of the finer things she owned anymore, like she usually did back in her prime; instead, they'd been given to her by a man who couldn't spare her more than a thought and only because he wanted to flaunt her as one of his many collectibles.

You can't have her...He was so proud of owning her, while she detested every moment she'd be reminded that her wings had been forever clipped.

Eventually, she'd get sick and tired of sitting around and waiting for Atherton to come home, if he even did, that was. When he did show up, it was always very late, and he'd already have satisfied his appetite. Sometimes, it wasn't just his hunger that was appeased. He would slip into bed, the smell of sex and sweat and cheap perfume still clinging to him like a second skin.

One morning, Inara finally made the decision to sneak out and explore the town, despite knowing that it had been frowned upon by many. It was dangerous out there, beyond the walls, full of brigands and murderers who wouldn't hesitate to do unspeakable things to a woman of such status. What they didn't realize was that Inara was a woman frightened by little, and spent enough time on her own to know how to take care of herself. She'd taken some credits with her, dressed in the most casual clothes she owned, and headed outside. The heat on Shadow was so intense, she could feel a sweat coming on just moments after leaving the cool house. An Alliance soldier saw her then, and seemed taken aback by her presence as well as her shoddy appearance. She was dressed in a pair of tight, black cargo pants, plain brown boats, and a hooded army green vest that zipped in the front. It was nowhere near as glamorous as she was typically perceived.

Unfazed, she gave the soldier a smile and greeted him, "Good afternoon."

"Afternoon, ma'am!" He replied, clearly flustered. He must have been a new recruit, she guessed. His uniform beret was askew, and he looked young enough to be fresh out of the academy.

For once, the lady fortune had smiled upon her, Inara learned, grateful. For all the man knew, she would be meeting and socializing with the other core wives that had been dragged to this miserable planet, gabbing about husbands, fashion, and what atrocities so and so had been caught wearing the other day. But Inara had more important things on her mind, like the idea of fresh produce.

Usually, their groceries were ordered in, but that meant less fresh food, and more packaged goods. While Inara was on the core planets, she'd attend the markets for the merchants that would offer up freshly grown fruits and vegetables. Their prices were often exuberant, but she didn't mind paying their fees if it meant a healthier, heartier meal. Shadow had once been well known for its farming, and many of the people relied heavily on the land to sustain them instead of the protein supply the Alliance would provide.

She figured it wouldn't harm anyone if she went about the shopping district in search of some tastier foodstuffs. She would charm the guards at the entrance into letting her slip out; that part would always be quite simple. She had always been good at making people compliant, unbeknownst to them.

"Atherton's given me permission to go about and inspect the town, meet some of the people and pick their brains about the land," she'd lied sweetly.

It wasn't very hard to fool the men when they were too busy staring into her bottomless, dark eyes, admiring her exotic beauty. All they needed to hear was Atherton's name, and she was in the clear, leaving the safety of the great walls that guarded the settlement behind her. It wasn't like Atherton ever checked up on her whereabouts either; he never truly cared enough, and it was therefore unlikely that he would ever get wind of her little adventure.

Once outside of the safe and tall stone walls, she began to feel rather exposed, self-conscious and nervous. Inara raised the hood of her vest over her head in an effort to shade herself from the scalding sun, as well as shield most of her face from the public eye. She was just a wandering soul in search of goods, much like everyone else in the marketplace, blending in as best as she possibly could.

She wandered the lonely dirt paths into town, taking in her surroundings as best she could since the walk would be an awfully long one; Shadow was everything an agricultural rim world could be. Dust clouds, patches of grass where it could grow, homes, barns, and buildings that were falling apart, and endless wheat fields in the distance. It was poor and barren for the most part, and the faces she encountered were mean and dirty, but the sky was a breathtaking, endless clear blue. The few people she did come across along the way had eyes that said they'd seen too much in a single lifetime. They stared at her shamelessly despite her guise, immediately noticing how clean she looked compared to their own raggedy appearance. Nonetheless, she was sure to keep her head down and walk a little bit faster so as to avoid any confrontation. It was no surprise that, much like most rim worlds, many of the folk were carrying concealed; armed with illegal weapons that had been smuggled in right under the Alliance's nose.

They hadn't cared much, despite the illegal contraband that made its way onto the planet; they had rules and regulations of course, but the punishment was not so severe if caught. They simply confiscated the wares, gave out a fine, and sent the smuggler on their way. After all, crime was only to be expected on such a world, the law meaning little in a town rife with thieves, murderers, and rebels.

By the time Inara had spotted the bustling marketplace, she was sweating in ways and places a proper core lady shouldn't have sweated. She was almost overcome with relief at the prospect of shade where the vendors had set up shop. There were significantly more people about in this part of town when compared to where the Alliance had settled, thus making it easy for her to get lost and blend in. She pushed past bodies, and examined each table's goods, nearly salivating at the bright colours of the unique, rare fruits and vegetables littered about the tables. Some were still covered in the dirt they'd grown in as an attest to their fresh quality. It wasn't missed by her that some vendors had packages of protein for sale as well, offered at a significantly cheaper price point than that of anything grown. What little they did have of produce was extremely overpriced, marked up due to the sheer lack of quantity and the itch to make a profit. Some of the rarer fruits were even more expensive than on any core planet.

That didn't mean that people wouldn't try to haggle, and more often than not, they'd end up paying a fraction less than the asking price, with the salesman still making a marginal profit. Inara herself purchased a couple of inconspicuous items at face value, such as a loaf of bread, three different coloured peppers, and ripe red tomatoes. She hadn't wanted to spend too much of her credits so as not to draw any attention to herself, but at the same time felt it wrong to haggle for the goods when there were others who needed the money. She'd been satisfied with her purchases, and was ready to make a hasty exit with a fair amount of coin still left in her pockets, when she'd been drawn to the voice of a woman nearby, bargaining for a crate of strawberries.

"Hang on, I think I got enough for at least three," she said, biting her bottom lip as she scrounged for the change in her pouch.

The vendor grunted as he watched her from behind a pair of thick reading lenses, displeased and sour. "No, Miss, they come as a bushel. Ya either buy the whole lot or none at all," he informed her.

His stall had been one of the pricier ends of the market, but he also carried some of the finer delicacies such as blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, and strawberries. Despite his pricing, he was still very much popular in due to his imported and rare goods. Inara had initially avoided his stall altogether.

"How about just the one then? Surely ain't no one gonna notice one outta the bunch," the brunette pleaded.

The tall, thin, balding man stood up and barked at her; "Don't make me repeat myself, I got other payin' customers 'round here. Prices ain't negotiable; you ain't buyin' you best be leavin'."

The girl became defeated in her fight to procure what was considered to be a highly coveted berry in the 'verse. She gave up fiddling in her small coin pouch when he ignored her for another customer. By the time she was ready to offer up a different bargain, she'd been pushed away by others who did have the coin to afford the grouchy man's merchandise. She stood outside the crowd, pouting and staring helplessly into her very light, small purse. She tucked a few strands of her honey brown hair behind her ear, put away the pouch into a pocket of her green coveralls and made her way to a different vendor that had an abundance of protein in stock.

With a sad smile, she offered up what was left of her money in exchange for a couple of parcels of the bland but nutritious substance.

Inara didn't know why she'd noticed the girl at all, yet somehow, she'd stood out amongst the crowd. She was younger than most of the women about, and she was wearing a grease stained jumpsuit instead of a dress. Her eyes, unlike those surrounding her, seemed kind, and despite the vendor's negative attitude, she had been sweet up to the end.

It was simple, really. Inara didn't even need to really think it through; she simply shoved her way to the berry stand where the bushel of fruit remained untouched, the deep red skin glistening in the sunlight, and grabbed them before she lost sight of the girl.

"I'd like to buy the bunch, please," she told the salesman, meeting his stare head on and forking over a handful of credits.

The vendor gave her a mistrusting look, as if unsure of her credibility. In response, she shook her extended hand in encouragement and he grabbed at the cash greedily, counting the bills painstakingly slow and licking his finger as he flipped the paper. Once satisfied, he gave her a curt nod and allowed her to walk away with the coveted fruit basket. Inara looked about for the young girl in green as soon as she broke free of the throng of people around her.

She found her lonely figure walking out of town, carrying a small bag full of the protein she'd just purchased. Her head was down as she counted the remaining bits of coin she had left in the palm of her hand. Inara was able to catch up with her fairly easily at a walking pace since she'd been too distracted to get very far. As she came up behind her, the girl still didn't pay her any attention until Inara had spoke up.

"I think I overdid it; I bought way too many of these, and it's not like I can eat all of them before they spoil. But that liánjià man wouldn't take anything less," Inara stated aloud, causing the youth to turn around and acknowledge her, a bewildered expression on her face.

Her hazel green eyes then fell to the aforementioned berries in Inara's hands, and her jaw dropped.

Inara smiled softly in genuine amusement at the girl's registered shock, and then shrugged. "I couldn't help but notice that you'd been eyeing them earlier, too."

She looked around to see if maybe Inara had her confused with someone else. "You're talkin' at me, ma'am?" She pointed at herself in question.

Inara nodded, holding out the small crate towards her. "Would you care to share?"

As it dawned on her, the brunette's expression changed from intrigue to sheer giddiness, wearing a smile both wide and excited as she looked at Inara gratefully. It was the sweetest and most sincere thing Inara had seen in a very long while.

And that was how she'd come to share a basket of fruit with the strawberry woman, on a pure and unexpected whim. Anyone else from the town, and they would have reacted differently, but somehow, Inara knew that this girl would appreciate the gesture. And she did, sitting next to her and enjoying every single, juicy bite like an orgasm in her mouth.

It was only after there was nothing left that the young, mousy brunette finally introduced herself; "Kaywinnit Lee Frye, but you can just call me Kaylee. Pleasure to make your acquaintance!" She smiled shyly after realizing, quite bashfully, that she'd partaken in the devouring of the strawberries without doing so prior.

She grinned, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry, I can be a mite forgetful at times. Ma says it's the Frye genes, but she only says that 'cause my Pa has quite the selective memory," she confessed with a chuckle, wiggling her brows suggestively.

Inara laughed in between bites of strawberry. Truth be told, she'd been trying to avoid introductions, not entirely sure if she wanted to reveal her identity just yet in the event that Kaylee took it poorly. But once the laughter died down, she could feel the younger girl's eyes on her, waiting. She thought about lying, maybe making up a false persona for the time being so as to avoid any judgement that came with the reveal of her true name. But when she met the girl's gaze, she found it troubling to lie to her. Not only would it blow up in her face later, but it would also ruin a potential friendship. Inara also refused to let Atherton taint her in such a way; she wouldn't allow her fears to stray her away from her values.

"...My name, it's Inara." She confided to her at last, once she'd collected her thoughts and made her decision.

She waited for the backlash, looking away because she wasn't certain she could handle the recognition and the disappointment that would follow shortly. She ate the remainder of the berry with a churning stomach and a sour mouth, putting the stem back into the empty crate when she was done.

"That's a pretty name. Don't think it's awfully common. Sounds so exotic. Do you know what it means?" Kaylee's innocence took Inara by complete surprise.

She looked at her then, only to see her looking back at her, sincere and curious, the corners of her mouth lifted up in a contented smile. Either she truly didn't know who she was, or she just didn't care. Inara didn't know which she preferred. So, instead of dwelling on the matter, she focused on the question she'd been asked.

"Illuminating. My mother liked it the moment she'd heard it. Xiǎo guāng, I was her little light, or so she'd call me." The memory was a fond one, and Inara looked back on it dearly.

"Makes it even prettier. Sounds like somethin' from Earth-That-Was, like an ancient language long forgotten. I think it suits ya," Kaylee commented dreamily.

Somehow, this girl she'd just met had managed to get her talking about things she'd thought were buried away forever, things she'd never told anyone. Inara couldn't tell if she should have been alarmed or pleasantly surprised. Even when she'd been happy with Atherton, it was rare that he ever got her talking about her past, or her family. As she thought about it, she realized that he'd never really ask her those sorts of questions. This new insight both saddened her and darkened her mood.

How could I have been so blind? She thought, angry and disappointed in herself.

"Oh, gosh! Can't believe we polished 'em off so quickly! I'm hopin' your husband don't get too upset with ya!" Kaylee cried out suddenly, breaking Inara away from her emotional turmoil.

For a moment, she wondered how she'd come to know about Atherton, only to then feel the heaviness of the glittering stone on her marriage finger, marking her as his possession. She stared at it bitterly, and wondered why she wore the ball and chain at all. After all, its purpose was only to serve as a reminder of the very thing she longed to escape.

"He doesn't care for strawberries," she assured Kaylee flippantly, unable to mask the coldness in her tone.

The younger girl seemed flabbergasted by such a revelation. "Figures a purplebelly wouldn't appreciate the finer things in life," she concluded resentfully.

Inara snapped to attention at the term rim folk had taken to calling all those from the core.

So, she did know.

Kaylee gasped then, and looked embarrassed when she met Inara's curious gaze. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to...it's just, everyone 'round here says that a lot, I guess it's rubbed off on me. Not that that's any excuse, me and my gorram mouth. I really am sorry," she clarified, her cheeks reddening.

Inara didn't seem to care much for the insult. She'd called Atherton worse things, but she wasn't about to confess that to her new friend.

"So you know who I am, then," Inara said, but it ended up sounding more like a question as she gauged the girl's response vigilantly.

Kaylee smiled and scratched nervously at the back of her head. "It ain't exactly hard to tell core folk apart from townspeople here. Not many can afford Benny's prices, and the ones who can, they're usually people you gotta stay away from. That, and you're all...shiny. You stand out, even when you're not tryin'. Not that it's a bad thing, it's just...you're awful pretty, and ain't anyone in town prettier than Nandi...," admitted Kaylee, her cheeks aflame.

An age old compliment, Inara knew that. The amount of times she'd heard men and women tell her how beautiful she was, she could have been rich if she'd been paid based on that fact alone. Ever since she'd been a little girl, she'd been the envy of many, and later in her teenage years, lusted after by more. So she sat there, hearing the words all over again, and yet this time, they felt different. It never mattered that they all sounded the same, or used the same adjectives; it was the person who spoke them that changed the meaning and the impact that was delivered.

From her previous clients, they were empty compliments. From her colleagues, it was masked jealousy. From her husband, it had meant everything before she'd learned that it was just another way he kept her. From Kaylee, it was enough to elicit a coy blush that Inara would seldom give to anyone. Something about the way she said it had been heartfelt and distinctive. For the first time in years, the words left her speechless.

"Anyhow, I can already tell you ain't like 'em other core folk. They don't normally wander into town, buyin' strangers expensive fruit, that's for sure," Kaylee pressed on when the silence between them had gone on for a second too long.

Inara stared off in the direction of the Alliance settlement, where her perfect, gilded cage awaited her. "I imagine they don't like to leave the safety of those walls very often at all," she said softly, the slight breeze picking up strands of her hair.

"I got an idea!" Kaylee exclaimed just then. "I can show ya 'round town if you like! Introduce you to all the right folk, tell you what's what and who's the who in this l'il place."

Freedom's Chain. It was what the people had come to call the main town on Shadow, Inara had learned. The only town now. It was the rebels' way of playing on words; they'd fought for freedom and lost, chained forever to a planet that had once been full of promise.

Kaylee had taken Inara to one of the only wheat field farms close to town, where they'd sat on a short, stone fence, watching the sun, Murphy, begin to set in a clear blue sky. The land was small, but there'd been enough undamaged soil for the farmer to grow his stock. The thick sea of faded yellow plants swayed in the wind, leaves rustling softly, as if to dance to her train of thought.

"I'm not sure...I doubt many of the people here would want to meet and converse with the wife of a man who is partly responsible for...well, for all of it," Inara confessed, uncertain.

Kaylee shook her head, waving away Inara's concerns with her hand. "Not the folk I know. They ain't so tainted that they can't see past somethin' like that. If I can, surely they will, too," Kaylee grinned, reassuring.

Inara gave the girl a sympathetic smile in return, but remained skeptical. "That's very kind of you to say, Kaylee, but not everyone is as open-minded as you..."

Kaylee hopped off of the fence, cleaning off the palms of her hands from the dirt that had settled on the stone. "Ain't takin' no for an answer. Matter o' fact, my Ma's invited a few close friends over for dinner tonight, so the timin's ripe. You should come, she ain't like to mind another guest. The more, the merrier!"

Before Inara could come up with another protest, Kaylee piped up, "'Sides, them strawberries were delicious, but I don't think they're quite like dinner food. It won't be much, but Ma does have a mean biscuit recipe. Combined with the dairy I got from Mal's ranch, they'll be the best tastin' ones you'll get planet side."

Inara was left floundering, unsure of how to deny the offer with grace. She looked down at her attire and desperately hung on to one last objection; "But, I'm not even dressed!"

Kaylee gave her a once-over, and then shrugged. "Looks like you got clothes on to me. Now come on before Ma has my hide for bein' late," she chided.

Her fate had been sealed at the insistence of one kind hearted girl, and Inara somehow felt weak having succumbed to her terms so easily.

They had only just met, the two of them, but it had already felt like they were old friends. Inara had spent most of the time listening to Kaylee and her stories while munching on berries, intrigued by the girl's colorful history. Then again, she had always been good at listening and getting people to open up to her, garnering their trust almost immediately. Honest eyes. They'd tell her she had honest eyes, rich and beautiful, swirls of dark browns where the light hit, and pure obsidian where it missed.

One could lose themselves in them, falling freely, and wouldn't feel anything short of bliss...Once upon a time, the Atherton she'd fallen in love with had described her eyes in such a way.

Not wanting to dwell on her husband any longer, Inara hopped off of the old stone wall, resolving to join Kaylee, if only so that she wouldn't have to head back to an empty, cold, and lonely house. Kaylee grabbed the bag of protein she'd purchased, while Inara collected the crate of strawberry stems and her other goods.

"I suppose you leave me with no choice then," Inara admitted defeat, but smiled warmly at the brunette, feeling a little less apprehensive about attending the small dinner party now.

Kaylee dug her hands into the deep pockets of her green coveralls and grinned. "Atta girl!" She cheered in response to the older woman's consensus.

"They're gonna warm up to ya, just you watch!"

"Planet's crawlin' with feds," Jayne grumbled aloud.

He picked up the stack of dinner plates from the Frye's kitchen counter, and headed into the dining room, matching them to the individual chairs at the dinner table.

"Maybe their presence will put crime to a slow crawl," Mrs. Frye spoke, trying to look on the bright side of the otherwise dark situation.

Mal harrumphed. "That ain't like to happen. 'S far as Alliance is concerned, sooner we pick one another off, the better," he said bitterly, passing out the cutlery.

"What happens when they succeed? Can't imagine they want us runnin' round free on a profitable planet they made rich," chimed in Mr. Frye.

"If they succeed. Don't think those purplebellies understand the extent of the damage they've caused," corrected Zoe from the small kitchen, drying her hands in a cloth from the soapy tussle she'd had with some dirty dishes.

Mrs. Frye slapped Jayne's curious fingers away from a platter of steaming food, before she carried it out to the dining room. He looked offended, but didn't push the matter with the older woman, licking the soupy contents off his finger instead.

"Isn't it funny how the Alliance has had this technology to fix the problem all along, and only suddenly seemed to have remembered to use it? Or is that just me?" Wash asked, taking his place at the old oak table, tucking his chair in and folding a napkin over his lap.

Zoe came up behind him, her hand gently caressing his shoulder, and smiled before taking her place to the right of him. "No, honey. Think we're all askin' that question."

"I'm thinkin' y'all are forgettin' that these are the same folk who wiped out entire towns of all human life just for the goods, usin' the war as a front to cover their greedy pìgu," Mal added, helping Mrs. Frye with all the platters of piping hot food, and dispersing them amongst the table fairly.

"Alright, let's not taint this delicious meal that Myrna has worked so hard to make with the talk of war and the Alliance, please," Wash stated, eyeing the mouth watering plate of golden biscuits set directly in front of him.

Jayne sat across from the blonde pilot, and looked around at the food laid out before him, unsure of what to dig into first. His appetite was almost as big as he was. "I agree. Now, let's get to eatin'."

Just as he made to grab at a steaming biscuit, Mal snagged it away before he could, giving him a glare that said his rudeness would not be tolerated. "We're waitin' on Kaylee," he warned him in an icy tone of voice.

"Where is my daughter, anyhow? Ain't she supposed to have been back by now?" Mr. Frye questioned from the head of the table, a look of worry crossing his features.

Mal looked over at him, tight lipped as the thought was forefront in his mind again. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a light knock on the front door that had suddenly gotten everyone's attention, making them all stop in their places. Everyone looked about the room, eyeing each other, perplexed and accusing, beckoning the question, who would be the one to answer it? However, Mal didn't need to be asked; he would always carry the burden and face the danger first, no matter what it was. He was already moving towards the door before anyone else could even have the chance to speak up.

"Must be her. Guessin' she forgot her keys again," he concluded, trying to come up with a reason as to the girl's tardiness, and appease her family's anxiety.

Nonetheless, he was sure to tuck his pistol into the back of his pants as a precaution, before he made to unlock the door. There was another rapping of knuckles, this time a bit louder and longer. He peered through the eyehole cautiously, only to be greeted by Kaylee's bright face, slightly distorted due to the glass, but she was smiling widely and waving at him.

He undid the locks, swung the door open, and saw the female mechanic standing before him, unharmed, and carrying a bag of goods from the market. Yet he could not return her good cheer just yet; instead, he stared at the hooded figure wallowing behind her, inspecting the woman with a scrutinizing and fierce look, the muscles in his jaw twitching. His gun hand itched at his side.

"Hiya Mal! Looks like the gang's all here! Sorry 'bout bein' late. Somethin' came up, but I'll tell ya all about it over dinner," Kaylee explained, trying to squeeze past the tall, intimidating man blocking the doorway.

She saw the way that the older man had been staring past her, and looked back to see that Inara had lifted her hood up again, most of her face now obscured.

In an effort to calm the situation, she shouted out loud, "I brought a guest. Ma won't mind; she's got a habit of makin' too much anyhow. Come on in, and I'll introduce ya!" She beckoned Inara inside.

Mal let the woman slip inside after Kaylee, but not before giving her a calculating stare that seemed to pierce right through her. He remained a daunting presence, opting not to say anything to her despite Kaylee's short clarification. He stood up straight,shoulders back, using his full height to his advantage, and folded his arms over his broad chest, eyes never leaving Inara. Feeling him looking at her, she opted to keep her hood over her head until Kaylee gave her the cue to make her appearance. Already, she was regretting her decision to come, her confidence slipping away the more she felt the heat of the stare she was receiving; it was obvious she was not welcome, despite Kaylee's persistence.

The rest of the people she met in the quiet dining room only further confirmed her distress. All eyes were on her, and although attention was not something Inara wasn't accustomed to, hostility certainly was. As Inara continued to feel very much out of place, Kaylee bounced about the dining room greeting everyone as cheerily as ever, oblivious to the tension. She gave both her Ma and Pa kisses on the cheek, and then made her rounds to the people already seated.

Inara was very aware of Mal standing behind her, as he leaned against the door frame, watching her the whole time. It grated on her nerves, the way the man seemed to be so keen on her, and not in any good way. She was almost tempted to turn on him, remove her hood, and ask him exactly what he thought he was staring at. Her hands were turning into fists at her sides and her ears burned.

However, before she could act on anything, Kaylee had come up to her then, smiling toothily and taking her hand, leading her further forward into the room like an ecstatic child with a new toy.

"Why don't ya take off that hood, already? Ain't like it's pourin' in here," Kaylee instructed playfully, moving to pull the material off her head before she had even the chance to consider it herself.

Once it had been removed, Inara felt every pair of eyes boring into her, examining and judging like hands all over her, touching and prodding. She tried her hardest to remain collected and calm.

"I'd like y'all to meet 'Nara. We got on at the market, and she was kind enough to share some o' Benny's strawberries with me. Now, she's new in town, so be nice!" instructed Kaylee.

She then started introducing Inara to the many mistrusting faces around the table. She started with her own parents, who looked a touch more comfortable than the rest did, or were at least more discreet about their suspicions. "That's my Ma and Pa over at the head of the table." She pointed them out, and the older couple managed a smile in her direction.

"It's a pleasure to meet ya, dear. Any friend of Kaylee's a friend o' ours," Mrs. Frye told her.

Mr. Frye was also a man of good spirits, despite the pressure in the room, giving Inara a welcoming smile. It was obvious then where Kaylee had gotten her good nature from. "Folk always say the best way to get to know a person is to sup with 'em. I'm glad you've joined us this evenin', darlin', and that you were so generous with our girl here. Benny don't charge a fair price for his goods."

Inara smiled back. "Thank you for having me on such short notice," she said, humbled by their words, and bowing in their direction.

Kaylee continued around the table. "That's Jayne Cobb. He's uh...well, he's a family friend and a co-worker, I suppose. Very helpful when you're in a pinch," Kaylee described the burly, muscular man staring at Inara from across the room, wearing what could only be described as a feral look. His mouth was slightly agape, and she recognized lust in a man's eyes the moment she saw it.

With a taut smile, she nodded in his direction and looked to the fair haired man seated across from him quickly after. "Then there's Wash, finest pilot you'll meet planet side."

He waved at her, and she noted that Wash had a much more relaxed, trusting expression when he addressed her, his aura not so different from the mechanic she'd just met. "Kaylee only says that because I pay her to. Well, I pay her to mostly fix up my ship proper, but compliments are part of the tab. Or, at least they should be with what she charges me," he joked, and it elicited a genuine laugh from both Inara and Kaylee's lips.

"Well, if you weren't off flyin' like a fēngkuáng de hóuzi and breakin' everything on your girl, I wouldn't have to keep replacin' her parts so often!" Kaylee rebutted playfully.

"Movin' on, sittin' next to him is the lovely Mrs. Washburne. Zoe's the law round these parts, so if any townsfolk give you trouble, don't hesitate reportin' to her," Kaylee described the beautiful, tall, darker skinned woman seated beside the golden haired pilot. She stared at Inara with an expression void of emotion, but there was distrust in her dark eyes. Cold and deadly, the woman was obviously a powerhouse, watching the scenario play out in the background, but ready to act if the moment called for it.

"And last but certainly not least, is Malcolm Reynolds. He's basically my boss sometimes, and he can be a real grouch, but if you'll be wantin' dairy, he's your guy. Ain't no one on Shadow can match his produce, or his cattle," Kaylee beamed, finally motioning to the man who'd been watching Inara carefully from even before she'd stepped through the door.

Inara turned to meet the deep set, indigo blue gaze of Malcolm Reynolds for the first time that night. He maintained his position against the doorframe, unmoving, and was looking at her like she was something to be picked apart and studied. It unsettled her, the way he monitored her in such an intense way, even now. Inara swallowed her pride, and spoke up after what felt like an eternity of silence, choosing to be the bigger person. "It's nice to finally meet you. Kaylee's had nothing but praises to sing about you, Mr. Reynolds."

He moved then, like a flawless statue coming to life, and took a step towards her, eyes never leaving her own. Inara backed up instinctively, unsure of what he was capable of as he towered over her, looking as mean as any cold-blooded killer would. He searched the planes of her face, close enough that she could feel his warm breath against her skin. She was pressed up against a free chair, holding it for balance, as she tried to stand her ground.

He knew who she was. It hadn't mattered what Kaylee had said; this man knew who she was, and hated her for it with every fibre of his being. It was there in the fiery blue coal of his eyes, in the creases of his brow, and in the way his mouth became a fixed line on his face.

"What's your last name?" He finally asked her, breaking the heavy silence that had shrouded them both.

Inara stared him down just as fiercely as he did, growing more and more defiant and angry at his intrusion and unwarranted rudeness. Chin high, she answered him with a sense of pride she hadn't felt for a name in a long time, if only to watch him squirm in response; "Wing. Inara Serra-Wing."

A/N: Long chapter is long, but expect them to be this way. That being said, this took me a long time to write. I don't know if I'm entirely happy with it, but I've spent so much time on it, I can't fathom rewriting it all when I've still got Sky Song to polish off. Translations, as per usual, are below. Feedback is also most welcome.

Translations

qīn'ài: darling, dear

liánjià: cheap

Xiǎo guāng: Little light

Pìgu: ass

fēngkuáng de hóuzi: Crazy monkey