A New Beginning - Part 1 B
Characters: Mal, Inara & Abel Mention of crew
Pairing: M/I
Rating: G
Summary: Mal decides it might be best if Inara stays in Paraiso for a while. (Apparently I lied about not writing the ranch fic.)
A/N Special thanks to both my betas who shall be named after I've scanned for new errors. All mistakes are mine.
~*~
Abel could still remember riding out to Serenity the next day with the contact information. As Abel had mentioned, he’d grown incredibly fond of Serenity’s crew. Like Malcolm, Abel had lost his family in the war, first his four sons, and then his wife a few years after. Once Malcolm’s initial distrust had passed, and he and Abel had spent more time together, he had been touched to notice that the captain had begun to include him more in the crew activities. Abel suspected that after their talks, and Malcolm’s finding out about his loss, he had come to perceive him as something Serenity’s captain couldn’t resist - someone a little broken and lost.
Time spent on Serenity was usually lively and fun, as they were always glad to have him, but this day had been different. Tension surrounded the ship and all the crew. Mal and Inara were standing off to one side of the ramp when he pulled his mount up, and Abel had the impression that he’d interrupted a disagreement - and that Malcolm was walking away from it and Inara was chasing him. Though he had gotten used to their squabbles that could blow up out of nowhere, Abel had never seen her look so solemn and displeased. He had wondered if it was because Malcolm wanted her to stay in Paraiso, or if it was a problem with the work. He had dismounted, tipped his hat to Inara, shook hands heartily with the captain, and handed him the slip of paper.
“Well, Malcolm, here’s the wave address. Just mention my name and I’m sure they’ll talk to you. If you need references, or if you need…” He’d stopped at the flare of warning in Mal’s gaze. Abel had found out the hard way that Malcolm Reynolds hated to be offered anything he felt he hadn’t earned. Abel had made the mistake once of offering him a small loan. He could still recall how quickly the steel appeared in Mal’s eyes and hear his grinding tones as he told him firmly that Serenity didn’t take charity. “Well, if you need anything, you just let me know.”
Inara had not been pleased. She had watched the whole proceedings in a cloak of icy silence. Mal had taken the slip with a nod of thanks. Abel knew it was difficult for the younger man, and understood he was torn with indecision over his plan.
“Much obliged, Abel,” Mal said as he pocketed the information. “I’ll contact them as soon as I conjure we have an accord with the crew.”
“You may as well not bother, Mal, I’m not leaving you or Serenity.” Inara moved to her husband’s side, a vision, as always, even though she was a little wan from the morning sickness. Apparently Inara was the crew with whom Mal needed to strike the accord.
Mal beamed a fake smile to Abel with a quiet, “Might need a minute here, Abel,” before guiding Inara gently away from their visitor.
Abel could hear their fierce whispers, but kept his expression bland. His first wife, Samantha, had been a passionate, stubborn woman like Inara. He’d been in Mal’s position many times. Abel used the moment to admire Serenity, walking around to the right of the ramp and gazing down the length of the freighter.
The couple’s voices carried as he waited patiently.
“Ain’t exactly the place to be airin’ our dirty laundry, Inara. Thought we hashed this out already,” He’d contended, exasperation evident in his terse tone and tightened jaw.
“By we, I’m assuming you mean you, because I distinctly remember not agreeing to this asinine plan. I want to be with you when our child is born, Mal.”
“Asinine? Keepin’ you and our baby out of harm’s way is asinine? Well now, maybe you, with your fancy schoolin’, could explain how that works to me, cause I’m just not seein’ it,” he’d ground out, his eyes an angry, stormy blue.
“Don’t you dare pull that dumb hick routine with me, Mal.” She had moved close to him and cupped his face in her palm. “I don’t want to fight over this - or this latest job - but it’s too dangerous! You heard what River said.”
Abel had been quite surprised at the result. Mal had stopped his blustering and had stood looking down at his wife with such a look of tenderness mixed with hurting that Abel had had to turn away from the sheer intensity of it.
Mal’s anger had left him in a rush, replaced by what looked to be a weariness of his very soul. “Inara, I’m askin’ you to wait for me here. I don’t like this either, bao bei, but it’s the best thing. Just ‘til the baby’s born. If somethin’ was to happen to either of you…” Mal’s voice had trailed off, but not before Abel had heard the ghostly whispers of a thousand nightmares that he was sure still haunted Malcolm in excruciating detail every night. “We’re looking for safer work, but we take the work we can get. Way it’s always been out here and that won’t change overnight.”
Before Inara could answer, Zoë stepped lightly down the ramp of the ship.
“Got a wave, sir. It’s Torman.” The couple’s eyes met, another message flashing between them that Abel couldn’t decipher, but he didn’t think it was a glad one. If he’d had to guess, Abel would say Torman was one of the unsavory sorts that Malcolm tended to work with during hard times, and that this was yet another reason he’d wanted his wife and unborn child off the vessel, and possibly the cause of the earlier disagreement Abel had happened upon.
“Abel, if you’ll excuse me,” Mal had offered over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Inara’s face. “We ain’t done with this,“ he’d promised as he pulled jerkily away from her, clearly frustrated, and followed Zoë up the ramp.
Abel had wandered over to where Inara watched as her husband walked away, his knees aching with rheumatism as he settled down to sit on the ramp near her side.
He’d never have sat down in a woman’s presence without permission in earlier days, he reflected but he was getting to the age where he could get away with a lot because all younger people seemed to see was the white hair and the long beard. Abel let them see that because it suited him. He was also getting to the age where he could offer unwanted advice and not get his head snapped off in the process. Well, with everyone except Abigail. That old girl still liked to keep him on his toes, he thought fondly.
So Abel had settled down, and waited for Inara to notice him again. Her eyes and thoughts were on the spot where Mal had disappeared with Zoë. She had finally looked down at her hands, unconsciously smoothing one elegant palm over her stomach, as if comforting the child that grew there. She looked quite embarrassed when she finally focused her eyes on the patiently waiting form of Abel Stoddard. As he’d anticipated, her training came to the fore instantaneously, and it had told him how upset she was to have ignored a guest for even a few minutes.
“Oh, Abel, I’m so sorry. Please, let me get you something to drink,” she’d offered. “Perhaps we should move inside, it’s cooler and I’ll brew us some tea.” Inara’s troubled eyes had swept towards Serenity’s hatch once more before settling with a calming smile on their guest.
“Inara, you’re very gracious, but I’m fine. Here, have a seat beside an old man.”
Inara had looked nonplussed, which made Abel smile.
“Well, alright.”
She did as he asked, folding her hands in her lap and looking at him curiously.
He’d given her a reassuring smile and taken one of her small, smooth hands into his own wrinkled and sun spotted one.
“Life with Malcolm Reynolds must be exhausting. It’s always something, isn’t it?” Inara had looked at him in amazement for a moment, and then had burst out with a small laugh.
“I suppose you could say that. With Malcolm Reynolds, yes, it’s always something. Usually something that makes me want to scream and throw things, and there is the occasional instance where I want to shoot him myself.” They shared a smile, but hers slowly faded and her hand unconsciously tightened on his.
“It’s this life - the constant worry about him and the others.” The words seemed to have popped out, surprising her. Abel kept quiet, slowly swinging his legs off the side of the ramp and holding her hand tightly. “I have this dreadful fear that if I’m not here, something appalling will happen to him. I need to be here.”
A tear made its slow way down her left cheek, but she never bothered to break the clasp of their hands to wipe it away.
The words had hung heavily between them on the air, full of anxiety.
Abel had withdrawn his handkerchief and gently wiped the tear away before replacing the square of white cloth back in his pocket. Inara had smiled a watery thank you, but dropped her eyes.
“If it makes you feel better, dear, Malcolm feels exactly the same way.” Abel stole a glance at her troubled face. “Did I ever tell you about the time I cut the top of my pinky finger off with a butcher’s knife?” As he’d hoped, Inara had been surprised by the abrupt change of subject.
“Well…no, I don’t believe I’ve heard that story.” She’d looked at him with dark eyes and a knowing smile. “Shouldn’t this be the part where you try to convince me to do what will keep me safe and make Mal happy?”
Abel shrugged. “It would appear to me that your mind is made up. I’m a very wise man, Inara; I know when a woman has made a decision. Once that line has been crossed, only she can amend it. Anyway, do you want to hear about my finger or not?” he’d coaxed.
Inara, looking slightly confused, had nodded. “Of course, if you want to tell me about it.”
She looked down to see that he was holding out the little finger on his left hand. The end was missing from the middle knuckle. She’d never noticed that before.
“What happened?”
“A silly accident. You know how young men are. I was exuberant back then. Loud, my first wife Samantha would have said. And I believe the term “dramatic” might have come from her sweet mouth.” He chucked along with Inara, pleased that he’d made her laugh.
“I hadn’t been working with the apples for very long. I was cutting them up and coring them with the biggest knife you ever saw. Whack! Whack!” Abel gently removed his hands from hers and made swift chopping movements with an imaginary knife.
“I didn’t know you worked with the apples. I assumed you’d always run the mercantile.” Inara mused.
“Oh, I did, during the day, but after Samantha found out she was expecting our first born, I panicked, I suppose. Suddenly, instead of just feeding two, meeting our small needs, and not very well I might add, I had this child coming. Now, looking back, of course I realize that while expensive, you make it somehow. But back then, everything seemed more intense, more dramatic.
Sam, of course, tried to convince me that everything would work out. She was always the calm one. But then, I couldn’t hear her wisdom for my own alarm. I had a baby coming! This little person was going to need things! Food! Clothes! So much I imagined. So I rushed out of the store after closing hours and got a second job over at the apple barn. I lasted two days before I cut the end of my finger off. Boy, was Sam irked when she saw.
“Oh, I can imagine. Now she had the baby and you to care for. And pregnancy makes you so tired. Simon says this exhaustion will go away, but I’m just so weary. Samantha may have been a little put out, but mostly concerned and drained, I’m sure.”
“She was, and I can still remember her saying the same thing about the tiredness,” Abel had agreed and squeezed her hand. “It will get better. Soon you’ll feel very fine and have lots of energy for planning. It’s nature’s way of getting everything the way it’s supposed to be. Right now, you’re in the resting stage.”
“And the morning sickness stage,” she had added, with a rueful smile. “So, did you go back to the apple barn and work?”
“I did. Sam sent me back. She was a very practical woman and she knew we could use the money, but she only agreed after a long talk. We used to be not so good at talking things through. So we discussed it and decided that I’d go back and work a little, to make me feel better about the finances. Once we had that talk, I wasn’t so distracted.”
“Sometimes, I think Sam never realized how worried I was. She seemed surprised to find out that I was scared out of my wits about that first baby coming. Of course, I was a very manly man, raised to keep my emotions to myself.” Abel had smiled at her to let her know he was teasing, but he’d seen the dawning recognition in her eyes that this was more of a parable than just an old man reminiscing.
“It’s something to think about, Inara. When a man gets things on his mind, starts fretting about his wife and about his unborn child on top of all the other things he’s probably worrying about during his waking hours, he can get a bit preoccupied. That anxiety, it can get your mind off what it needs to be thinking on, and next thing you know, you’re missing part of a finger.”
“I presume this story has a moral, Abel?” she’d asked him, only slightly vexed at herself for falling into his gentle trap.
“If it does, my dearest child, it’s that in this life, people have to have the courage to make hard decisions to protect the ones they love - and that too often it is the woman who has to show that bravery.”
“You’re a wily old man, Abel Stoddard, and you’re only the second person that I’ve ever met who’s recognized that Mal gets scared. I can never see that in him, even now.” Inara had freed her hand from his, and stood. “I don’t know if I have that much courage,“ she’d confessed.
“I do.” Abel had said, softly. “And, we will keep this story between us, just me and you? I don’t think Malcolm likes me pushing my big nose into his personal business, if you know what I mean.”
“He’s just a very private man, Abel, but I won’t mention our discussion.”
“I have complete faith in you, Inara. Whatever decision you make will be the right one for all three of you - and if you’re losing sleep, it wouldn’t hurt to say a prayer for guidance. God is probably going to be up all night anyway - let him stay awake worrying for you.”
The sound of Mal and Zoë’s boots coming down the ramp had mixed with her laughter as she’d stepped closer and kissed Abel on the cheek.
“Thank you. I will consider it.”
“Abel, I would take it as a kindness if you wouldn’t be kissin’ on my wife every time I take my leave. Get your own woman. Hear Abigail is free, but a woman that can cook like that won’t be for long. Best get a move on in that direction.”
Abel had winked at Inara and rose slowly, his stiff joints popping as he’d turned around to walk to Mal and his first mate.
Inara had made the hard decision to stay in Paraiso. When Mal had to be gone, he and Abigail had checked on her, though no one had been surprised when Mal found more and more reasons to take shorter runs that kept him close to his wife as her due date drew closer. When he did have to go on longer hauls Mal had left Simon in Paraiso in case Inara would need him.
The Reynolds home, though modest in material possessions, had come to be filled with the important things in life: family and friends, love and laughter. It wasn’t uncommon to find all the crew there at various times when Serenity wasn’t flying.
That memory, though nearly three years old, still made Abel smile. Today, he stood before the charming yellow cottage with another offer for Serenity’s captain and his wife, though getting Mal to accept this one would be a bit trickier. With a quickly breathed prayer, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.
Pairing: M/I
Rating: G
Summary: Mal decides it might be best if Inara stays in Paraiso for a while. (Apparently I lied about not writing the ranch fic.)
A/N Special thanks to both my betas who shall be named after I've scanned for new errors. All mistakes are mine.
~*~
Abel could still remember riding out to Serenity the next day with the contact information. As Abel had mentioned, he’d grown incredibly fond of Serenity’s crew. Like Malcolm, Abel had lost his family in the war, first his four sons, and then his wife a few years after. Once Malcolm’s initial distrust had passed, and he and Abel had spent more time together, he had been touched to notice that the captain had begun to include him more in the crew activities. Abel suspected that after their talks, and Malcolm’s finding out about his loss, he had come to perceive him as something Serenity’s captain couldn’t resist - someone a little broken and lost.
Time spent on Serenity was usually lively and fun, as they were always glad to have him, but this day had been different. Tension surrounded the ship and all the crew. Mal and Inara were standing off to one side of the ramp when he pulled his mount up, and Abel had the impression that he’d interrupted a disagreement - and that Malcolm was walking away from it and Inara was chasing him. Though he had gotten used to their squabbles that could blow up out of nowhere, Abel had never seen her look so solemn and displeased. He had wondered if it was because Malcolm wanted her to stay in Paraiso, or if it was a problem with the work. He had dismounted, tipped his hat to Inara, shook hands heartily with the captain, and handed him the slip of paper.
“Well, Malcolm, here’s the wave address. Just mention my name and I’m sure they’ll talk to you. If you need references, or if you need…” He’d stopped at the flare of warning in Mal’s gaze. Abel had found out the hard way that Malcolm Reynolds hated to be offered anything he felt he hadn’t earned. Abel had made the mistake once of offering him a small loan. He could still recall how quickly the steel appeared in Mal’s eyes and hear his grinding tones as he told him firmly that Serenity didn’t take charity. “Well, if you need anything, you just let me know.”
Inara had not been pleased. She had watched the whole proceedings in a cloak of icy silence. Mal had taken the slip with a nod of thanks. Abel knew it was difficult for the younger man, and understood he was torn with indecision over his plan.
“Much obliged, Abel,” Mal said as he pocketed the information. “I’ll contact them as soon as I conjure we have an accord with the crew.”
“You may as well not bother, Mal, I’m not leaving you or Serenity.” Inara moved to her husband’s side, a vision, as always, even though she was a little wan from the morning sickness. Apparently Inara was the crew with whom Mal needed to strike the accord.
Mal beamed a fake smile to Abel with a quiet, “Might need a minute here, Abel,” before guiding Inara gently away from their visitor.
Abel could hear their fierce whispers, but kept his expression bland. His first wife, Samantha, had been a passionate, stubborn woman like Inara. He’d been in Mal’s position many times. Abel used the moment to admire Serenity, walking around to the right of the ramp and gazing down the length of the freighter.
The couple’s voices carried as he waited patiently.
“Ain’t exactly the place to be airin’ our dirty laundry, Inara. Thought we hashed this out already,” He’d contended, exasperation evident in his terse tone and tightened jaw.
“By we, I’m assuming you mean you, because I distinctly remember not agreeing to this asinine plan. I want to be with you when our child is born, Mal.”
“Asinine? Keepin’ you and our baby out of harm’s way is asinine? Well now, maybe you, with your fancy schoolin’, could explain how that works to me, cause I’m just not seein’ it,” he’d ground out, his eyes an angry, stormy blue.
“Don’t you dare pull that dumb hick routine with me, Mal.” She had moved close to him and cupped his face in her palm. “I don’t want to fight over this - or this latest job - but it’s too dangerous! You heard what River said.”
Abel had been quite surprised at the result. Mal had stopped his blustering and had stood looking down at his wife with such a look of tenderness mixed with hurting that Abel had had to turn away from the sheer intensity of it.
Mal’s anger had left him in a rush, replaced by what looked to be a weariness of his very soul. “Inara, I’m askin’ you to wait for me here. I don’t like this either, bao bei, but it’s the best thing. Just ‘til the baby’s born. If somethin’ was to happen to either of you…” Mal’s voice had trailed off, but not before Abel had heard the ghostly whispers of a thousand nightmares that he was sure still haunted Malcolm in excruciating detail every night. “We’re looking for safer work, but we take the work we can get. Way it’s always been out here and that won’t change overnight.”
Before Inara could answer, Zoë stepped lightly down the ramp of the ship.
“Got a wave, sir. It’s Torman.” The couple’s eyes met, another message flashing between them that Abel couldn’t decipher, but he didn’t think it was a glad one. If he’d had to guess, Abel would say Torman was one of the unsavory sorts that Malcolm tended to work with during hard times, and that this was yet another reason he’d wanted his wife and unborn child off the vessel, and possibly the cause of the earlier disagreement Abel had happened upon.
“Abel, if you’ll excuse me,” Mal had offered over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Inara’s face. “We ain’t done with this,“ he’d promised as he pulled jerkily away from her, clearly frustrated, and followed Zoë up the ramp.
Abel had wandered over to where Inara watched as her husband walked away, his knees aching with rheumatism as he settled down to sit on the ramp near her side.
He’d never have sat down in a woman’s presence without permission in earlier days, he reflected but he was getting to the age where he could get away with a lot because all younger people seemed to see was the white hair and the long beard. Abel let them see that because it suited him. He was also getting to the age where he could offer unwanted advice and not get his head snapped off in the process. Well, with everyone except Abigail. That old girl still liked to keep him on his toes, he thought fondly.
So Abel had settled down, and waited for Inara to notice him again. Her eyes and thoughts were on the spot where Mal had disappeared with Zoë. She had finally looked down at her hands, unconsciously smoothing one elegant palm over her stomach, as if comforting the child that grew there. She looked quite embarrassed when she finally focused her eyes on the patiently waiting form of Abel Stoddard. As he’d anticipated, her training came to the fore instantaneously, and it had told him how upset she was to have ignored a guest for even a few minutes.
“Oh, Abel, I’m so sorry. Please, let me get you something to drink,” she’d offered. “Perhaps we should move inside, it’s cooler and I’ll brew us some tea.” Inara’s troubled eyes had swept towards Serenity’s hatch once more before settling with a calming smile on their guest.
“Inara, you’re very gracious, but I’m fine. Here, have a seat beside an old man.”
Inara had looked nonplussed, which made Abel smile.
“Well, alright.”
She did as he asked, folding her hands in her lap and looking at him curiously.
He’d given her a reassuring smile and taken one of her small, smooth hands into his own wrinkled and sun spotted one.
“Life with Malcolm Reynolds must be exhausting. It’s always something, isn’t it?” Inara had looked at him in amazement for a moment, and then had burst out with a small laugh.
“I suppose you could say that. With Malcolm Reynolds, yes, it’s always something. Usually something that makes me want to scream and throw things, and there is the occasional instance where I want to shoot him myself.” They shared a smile, but hers slowly faded and her hand unconsciously tightened on his.
“It’s this life - the constant worry about him and the others.” The words seemed to have popped out, surprising her. Abel kept quiet, slowly swinging his legs off the side of the ramp and holding her hand tightly. “I have this dreadful fear that if I’m not here, something appalling will happen to him. I need to be here.”
A tear made its slow way down her left cheek, but she never bothered to break the clasp of their hands to wipe it away.
The words had hung heavily between them on the air, full of anxiety.
Abel had withdrawn his handkerchief and gently wiped the tear away before replacing the square of white cloth back in his pocket. Inara had smiled a watery thank you, but dropped her eyes.
“If it makes you feel better, dear, Malcolm feels exactly the same way.” Abel stole a glance at her troubled face. “Did I ever tell you about the time I cut the top of my pinky finger off with a butcher’s knife?” As he’d hoped, Inara had been surprised by the abrupt change of subject.
“Well…no, I don’t believe I’ve heard that story.” She’d looked at him with dark eyes and a knowing smile. “Shouldn’t this be the part where you try to convince me to do what will keep me safe and make Mal happy?”
Abel shrugged. “It would appear to me that your mind is made up. I’m a very wise man, Inara; I know when a woman has made a decision. Once that line has been crossed, only she can amend it. Anyway, do you want to hear about my finger or not?” he’d coaxed.
Inara, looking slightly confused, had nodded. “Of course, if you want to tell me about it.”
She looked down to see that he was holding out the little finger on his left hand. The end was missing from the middle knuckle. She’d never noticed that before.
“What happened?”
“A silly accident. You know how young men are. I was exuberant back then. Loud, my first wife Samantha would have said. And I believe the term “dramatic” might have come from her sweet mouth.” He chucked along with Inara, pleased that he’d made her laugh.
“I hadn’t been working with the apples for very long. I was cutting them up and coring them with the biggest knife you ever saw. Whack! Whack!” Abel gently removed his hands from hers and made swift chopping movements with an imaginary knife.
“I didn’t know you worked with the apples. I assumed you’d always run the mercantile.” Inara mused.
“Oh, I did, during the day, but after Samantha found out she was expecting our first born, I panicked, I suppose. Suddenly, instead of just feeding two, meeting our small needs, and not very well I might add, I had this child coming. Now, looking back, of course I realize that while expensive, you make it somehow. But back then, everything seemed more intense, more dramatic.
Sam, of course, tried to convince me that everything would work out. She was always the calm one. But then, I couldn’t hear her wisdom for my own alarm. I had a baby coming! This little person was going to need things! Food! Clothes! So much I imagined. So I rushed out of the store after closing hours and got a second job over at the apple barn. I lasted two days before I cut the end of my finger off. Boy, was Sam irked when she saw.
“Oh, I can imagine. Now she had the baby and you to care for. And pregnancy makes you so tired. Simon says this exhaustion will go away, but I’m just so weary. Samantha may have been a little put out, but mostly concerned and drained, I’m sure.”
“She was, and I can still remember her saying the same thing about the tiredness,” Abel had agreed and squeezed her hand. “It will get better. Soon you’ll feel very fine and have lots of energy for planning. It’s nature’s way of getting everything the way it’s supposed to be. Right now, you’re in the resting stage.”
“And the morning sickness stage,” she had added, with a rueful smile. “So, did you go back to the apple barn and work?”
“I did. Sam sent me back. She was a very practical woman and she knew we could use the money, but she only agreed after a long talk. We used to be not so good at talking things through. So we discussed it and decided that I’d go back and work a little, to make me feel better about the finances. Once we had that talk, I wasn’t so distracted.”
“Sometimes, I think Sam never realized how worried I was. She seemed surprised to find out that I was scared out of my wits about that first baby coming. Of course, I was a very manly man, raised to keep my emotions to myself.” Abel had smiled at her to let her know he was teasing, but he’d seen the dawning recognition in her eyes that this was more of a parable than just an old man reminiscing.
“It’s something to think about, Inara. When a man gets things on his mind, starts fretting about his wife and about his unborn child on top of all the other things he’s probably worrying about during his waking hours, he can get a bit preoccupied. That anxiety, it can get your mind off what it needs to be thinking on, and next thing you know, you’re missing part of a finger.”
“I presume this story has a moral, Abel?” she’d asked him, only slightly vexed at herself for falling into his gentle trap.
“If it does, my dearest child, it’s that in this life, people have to have the courage to make hard decisions to protect the ones they love - and that too often it is the woman who has to show that bravery.”
“You’re a wily old man, Abel Stoddard, and you’re only the second person that I’ve ever met who’s recognized that Mal gets scared. I can never see that in him, even now.” Inara had freed her hand from his, and stood. “I don’t know if I have that much courage,“ she’d confessed.
“I do.” Abel had said, softly. “And, we will keep this story between us, just me and you? I don’t think Malcolm likes me pushing my big nose into his personal business, if you know what I mean.”
“He’s just a very private man, Abel, but I won’t mention our discussion.”
“I have complete faith in you, Inara. Whatever decision you make will be the right one for all three of you - and if you’re losing sleep, it wouldn’t hurt to say a prayer for guidance. God is probably going to be up all night anyway - let him stay awake worrying for you.”
The sound of Mal and Zoë’s boots coming down the ramp had mixed with her laughter as she’d stepped closer and kissed Abel on the cheek.
“Thank you. I will consider it.”
“Abel, I would take it as a kindness if you wouldn’t be kissin’ on my wife every time I take my leave. Get your own woman. Hear Abigail is free, but a woman that can cook like that won’t be for long. Best get a move on in that direction.”
Abel had winked at Inara and rose slowly, his stiff joints popping as he’d turned around to walk to Mal and his first mate.
Inara had made the hard decision to stay in Paraiso. When Mal had to be gone, he and Abigail had checked on her, though no one had been surprised when Mal found more and more reasons to take shorter runs that kept him close to his wife as her due date drew closer. When he did have to go on longer hauls Mal had left Simon in Paraiso in case Inara would need him.
The Reynolds home, though modest in material possessions, had come to be filled with the important things in life: family and friends, love and laughter. It wasn’t uncommon to find all the crew there at various times when Serenity wasn’t flying.
That memory, though nearly three years old, still made Abel smile. Today, he stood before the charming yellow cottage with another offer for Serenity’s captain and his wife, though getting Mal to accept this one would be a bit trickier. With a quickly breathed prayer, he raised his hand and knocked on the door.