Another Way of Being by belasera

A vague disclaimer is nobody’s friend: All recognizable characters, etc. belong not to me, but to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox, and no money is being made here. The story, however, is mine.

Mal’s hand is on his gun, though I pretend not to notice as I peer past him into the cargo bay of his precious piece of luh-so. “I hope you don’t have it hidden inside this thing.” His eyes narrow as he looks at me and I think we understand each other pretty clearly. Mal likes to play a bit, though. Keep it slow and steady and not fly off the handle too quick. Yeah, I’ve seen him in action. He’ll dance around until I step on his foot. But I can play nice. So I let him ask me a question he knows the answer to. “Now what is your crazy little self talkin’ about?” I smile. Oh, predictable as dust, this one. “I know you haven’t sold it. I may have been stuck in a hell-hole, but I know how to get information. Besides, who on earth would have bought it from you? You don’t exactly run in high society do you, Mal. And for all her talk, I really doubt Inara would be willing to help you on that score.” Mal’s jaw tightens in a way I didn’t predict as he snaps back at me, “I doubt you know the first thing about Inara.” The feeling is interesting in that it’s new. Like someone cut out various parts of my body, knees and heart and stomach. I didn’t count on this. Why didn’t I think of this? Oh, god, he’s in love with her. And for a second I think I may not be able to speak, but there are parts of my mind that remember how it was to survive when there was none of this love and fear to hinder me. “Oh, Mal. You poor thing. We companions can be so merciless with our wiles, I know. I can’t bear to think of what she’s done to you. But I hardly came here to talk about your sex life.” And there! I see the flicker in his eyes and I know they aren’t sleeping together, I know it’s a thorn in his side and that is so much better than I could have dreamed of that I want to run into the ship and kiss Inara for it. This I can work with. Oh, don’t be horrified at me, I said I was in love, I never said anything about reformation. Anyway, “I’m here in the spirit of mutual benefit. You have an artifact you can’t unload, don’t try to deny it. I have middlemen just dying to get their hands on said artifact. Men that won’t even touch it without word from me. Not everyone is as distrusting as you, husband.” “Yes, well as hard as I find it to believe, it would seem that not everyone has had the pleasure of your hand in marriage.” The deal is sealed. Once he’s joking about our marriage, I’m in. Oh, he does love to joke about it. I think that in some twisted little way, our despicable union is the closest thing he’s had in a long while that even resembles a real life. God, I love this man.