Firefly Fic: And Suddenly
Title: And Suddenly
Pairing: Mal/Inara
Summary: Set during Serenity (BDM). What did Mal and Inara talk about after they escaped from the Training House? And spent all that very secluded, very alone time in the shuttle?
Words: 1, 109
Prompt: I'm cheating on this one, just a tad. nousia requested argumentative Mal/Inara, and agent_rouka wondered about what, exactly, happened in that very secluded, very alone shuttle during the BDM. So... this is for both of them.
Movie spoilers ahead.
Things in Mal’s life seemed to be happening too damn fast. It had been one simple job. Get in, get out, avoid being eaten by Reavers. All in an honest day’s work.
Only.
The Alliance swooped in and mucked things up, activating the brain of a seventeen-year-old girl who had no wish to harm any living thing.
And Inara. She was gone. She was to stay gone. Far away. Languishing at the Training House. Probably fanning herself and feeding grapes to her clients.
But now.
Here she was. Sitting in her shuttle, and steering them out of (another) situation of impending death like it happened all the time.
Here she was.
Smelling like some kind of fruit, he couldn’t say what kind, exactly, only that it was pleasant. It also made him feel a mite weak in the knees-but that could’ve been more due to the beating the Operative had dished out than any of her feminine wiles.
He leaned forward. Just a tad. Pleasant fruity thing seemed to be coming from her hair.
“Mal, stop bleeding all over my cockpit.”
Mal pulled back, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Inara steadfastly ignored him, choosing instead to concentrate on flying her shuttle.
His shuttle.
“It’s not your shuttle.”
She sighed. She sounded exasperated. Well, that wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Just… go find yourself a tissue. Or a band-aid.”
“A band-aid?” he said, aiming for righteous indignation.
Inara remained unaffected. “I don’t want your blood to gum up the works,” she said. As if they were having a perfectly reasonable conversation.
“You know,” he said, and he sounded testy. That was fair. If she was going to be testy, so was he. “A bit of gratitude could be in order.”
“Gratitude?” Inara said, voice rising.
Mal allowed himself a smug grin. Yup. He could still get under her skin-make her lose some of that perfect control.
“For saving your life,” he explained. Obviously.
She snapped the shuttle onto autopilot, turned the chair around, and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Coming to your rescue,” he continued. “Saving you from the Operative. If it wasn’t for me-”
“He never would have gone after me in the first place,” Inara said. “What is your point, Mal?”
Semantics.
“Knew enough to suss our your faulty wave, didn’t I? Saved you from a horrible sword-like death, didn’t I?”
Inara’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Yes,” she said. “It was very manly, you getting yourself beat up like that. I’m so glad you showed up, I almost panicked.”
Mal knew sarcasm when he heard it. “Just saying… gratitude, is all.”
As he finished, another dollop of blood dripped from his nose and landed at her feet. Inara did not look particularly impressed.
She turned back to the console, bending over the controls to check coordinates.
Her next words were quiet, “This isn’t a game, Mal.”
It sucked the playful energy right out of the shuttle.
Mal glanced around the shuttle, giving himself time to think. “I know that,” he finally said, voice just as quiet. “We’re being hunted.”
She visibly tensed, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Why?”
“Best I can figure, they’re after a thing in River Tam’s brain. Don’t really understand what… or why…” Mal trailed off and pressed a hand to his jaw, suddenly in quite a bit of pain. “Man can pack a punch, that’s for damn sure.”
This time, Inara’s gaze was sympathetic.
“Sit,” she said, vacating the pilot chair. “Unless you want to pass out on the floor of my shuttle.”
“It’s not your gorram shuttle,” he mumbled. But he sat.
She disappeared, coming back a few moments later with a first-aid kit. “Tilt your head backwards.”
Mal obeyed. Her hands were gentle as they worked on the bruises on his face. He stayed perfectly still and studied her. She avoided direct eye contact, doing her best to keep her movements quick and efficient.
“Inara-”
She jumped at her name, dropping a fistful of bloodied cotton balls. “Yes?”
“Did he… hurt you?”
“He… what?” Inara said, flustered.
“Taking on the Operative like you did… it was brave of you,” Mal said. “The Guild teach you how to fight like that?”
“It’s important for a Companion to know how to defend herself,” she replied. Her voice was even again. Simple. Keeping back the emotion.
It made him want to push her. See how far he could get.
He sighed. There were bigger things to deal with.
“Hwoohn dahn’ll go through anyone,” Mal mused. “Don’t matter who they are. Ain’t interested in subtlety. Got no problem with a pile of bodies. No mercy. That don’t bode particular well for us. Ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, what the Alliance has got in store. You left Serenity a long while ago, and it’s not fair to expect you to-”
“Why me?” she interrupted.
Mal blinked. “Huh? Did you even listen to any of that?”
She finally met his eyes, the cotton balls long forgotten. “Why did the Operative choose to go after me?”
“Cause…” Mal swallowed, buying for time. “I reckon… he figured I’d come for you.”
She gave a tight smile. “What if he figured wrong?”
“He didn’t.”
She searched his face. “How can we… an Alliance Operative, Mal… we can’t-”
“Take one thing at a time,” Mal said. “We do… whatever it is that needs to be done. They don’t got us beat. Not yet, leastaways.”
She gave a small nod. “I always knew I’d be back here, you know. On Serenity.”
Mal held her gaze. “Me too.”
“If it hadn’t been the Operative…” Inara hesitated. “Well, it would have been something else. I just wish it was a more festive occasion.”
She finally stooped to pick up the discarded cotton. When she straightened, her posture was closed-off. He knew he’d lost whatever bit of honesty he’d managed to glean from her.
It was a start, at least. Time like this, they’d have more opportunities for honesty. Most likely, when they were both least expecting it.
“I want to help,” she said, her voice firm. “I care about River.”
Mal inclined his head, having already expected as much. “Glad to hear it.”
She closed the first-aid kit. “You should let Simon give you the once-over when we get back to the ship.”
He waved a hand at her. “Got plenty of faith in your healing skills, Inara.”
She rewarded him with a genuine smile. “I… thank you.”
“So…” Mal said. “What sorts of stuff do you teach at a Companion Training House, anyhows?”
Inara rolled her eyes. “The alphabet.”
“Huh. That’s what I’d’ve guessed, you know.”
Pairing: Mal/Inara
Summary: Set during Serenity (BDM). What did Mal and Inara talk about after they escaped from the Training House? And spent all that very secluded, very alone time in the shuttle?
Words: 1, 109
Prompt: I'm cheating on this one, just a tad. nousia requested argumentative Mal/Inara, and agent_rouka wondered about what, exactly, happened in that very secluded, very alone shuttle during the BDM. So... this is for both of them.
Movie spoilers ahead.
Things in Mal’s life seemed to be happening too damn fast. It had been one simple job. Get in, get out, avoid being eaten by Reavers. All in an honest day’s work.
Only.
The Alliance swooped in and mucked things up, activating the brain of a seventeen-year-old girl who had no wish to harm any living thing.
And Inara. She was gone. She was to stay gone. Far away. Languishing at the Training House. Probably fanning herself and feeding grapes to her clients.
But now.
Here she was. Sitting in her shuttle, and steering them out of (another) situation of impending death like it happened all the time.
Here she was.
Smelling like some kind of fruit, he couldn’t say what kind, exactly, only that it was pleasant. It also made him feel a mite weak in the knees-but that could’ve been more due to the beating the Operative had dished out than any of her feminine wiles.
He leaned forward. Just a tad. Pleasant fruity thing seemed to be coming from her hair.
“Mal, stop bleeding all over my cockpit.”
Mal pulled back, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Inara steadfastly ignored him, choosing instead to concentrate on flying her shuttle.
His shuttle.
“It’s not your shuttle.”
She sighed. She sounded exasperated. Well, that wasn’t exactly surprising.
“Just… go find yourself a tissue. Or a band-aid.”
“A band-aid?” he said, aiming for righteous indignation.
Inara remained unaffected. “I don’t want your blood to gum up the works,” she said. As if they were having a perfectly reasonable conversation.
“You know,” he said, and he sounded testy. That was fair. If she was going to be testy, so was he. “A bit of gratitude could be in order.”
“Gratitude?” Inara said, voice rising.
Mal allowed himself a smug grin. Yup. He could still get under her skin-make her lose some of that perfect control.
“For saving your life,” he explained. Obviously.
She snapped the shuttle onto autopilot, turned the chair around, and stared at him. “Excuse me?”
“Coming to your rescue,” he continued. “Saving you from the Operative. If it wasn’t for me-”
“He never would have gone after me in the first place,” Inara said. “What is your point, Mal?”
Semantics.
“Knew enough to suss our your faulty wave, didn’t I? Saved you from a horrible sword-like death, didn’t I?”
Inara’s eyebrows shot upwards. “Yes,” she said. “It was very manly, you getting yourself beat up like that. I’m so glad you showed up, I almost panicked.”
Mal knew sarcasm when he heard it. “Just saying… gratitude, is all.”
As he finished, another dollop of blood dripped from his nose and landed at her feet. Inara did not look particularly impressed.
She turned back to the console, bending over the controls to check coordinates.
Her next words were quiet, “This isn’t a game, Mal.”
It sucked the playful energy right out of the shuttle.
Mal glanced around the shuttle, giving himself time to think. “I know that,” he finally said, voice just as quiet. “We’re being hunted.”
She visibly tensed, but she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Why?”
“Best I can figure, they’re after a thing in River Tam’s brain. Don’t really understand what… or why…” Mal trailed off and pressed a hand to his jaw, suddenly in quite a bit of pain. “Man can pack a punch, that’s for damn sure.”
This time, Inara’s gaze was sympathetic.
“Sit,” she said, vacating the pilot chair. “Unless you want to pass out on the floor of my shuttle.”
“It’s not your gorram shuttle,” he mumbled. But he sat.
She disappeared, coming back a few moments later with a first-aid kit. “Tilt your head backwards.”
Mal obeyed. Her hands were gentle as they worked on the bruises on his face. He stayed perfectly still and studied her. She avoided direct eye contact, doing her best to keep her movements quick and efficient.
“Inara-”
She jumped at her name, dropping a fistful of bloodied cotton balls. “Yes?”
“Did he… hurt you?”
“He… what?” Inara said, flustered.
“Taking on the Operative like you did… it was brave of you,” Mal said. “The Guild teach you how to fight like that?”
“It’s important for a Companion to know how to defend herself,” she replied. Her voice was even again. Simple. Keeping back the emotion.
It made him want to push her. See how far he could get.
He sighed. There were bigger things to deal with.
“Hwoohn dahn’ll go through anyone,” Mal mused. “Don’t matter who they are. Ain’t interested in subtlety. Got no problem with a pile of bodies. No mercy. That don’t bode particular well for us. Ain’t gonna be a cakewalk, what the Alliance has got in store. You left Serenity a long while ago, and it’s not fair to expect you to-”
“Why me?” she interrupted.
Mal blinked. “Huh? Did you even listen to any of that?”
She finally met his eyes, the cotton balls long forgotten. “Why did the Operative choose to go after me?”
“Cause…” Mal swallowed, buying for time. “I reckon… he figured I’d come for you.”
She gave a tight smile. “What if he figured wrong?”
“He didn’t.”
She searched his face. “How can we… an Alliance Operative, Mal… we can’t-”
“Take one thing at a time,” Mal said. “We do… whatever it is that needs to be done. They don’t got us beat. Not yet, leastaways.”
She gave a small nod. “I always knew I’d be back here, you know. On Serenity.”
Mal held her gaze. “Me too.”
“If it hadn’t been the Operative…” Inara hesitated. “Well, it would have been something else. I just wish it was a more festive occasion.”
She finally stooped to pick up the discarded cotton. When she straightened, her posture was closed-off. He knew he’d lost whatever bit of honesty he’d managed to glean from her.
It was a start, at least. Time like this, they’d have more opportunities for honesty. Most likely, when they were both least expecting it.
“I want to help,” she said, her voice firm. “I care about River.”
Mal inclined his head, having already expected as much. “Glad to hear it.”
She closed the first-aid kit. “You should let Simon give you the once-over when we get back to the ship.”
He waved a hand at her. “Got plenty of faith in your healing skills, Inara.”
She rewarded him with a genuine smile. “I… thank you.”
“So…” Mal said. “What sorts of stuff do you teach at a Companion Training House, anyhows?”
Inara rolled her eyes. “The alphabet.”
“Huh. That’s what I’d’ve guessed, you know.”