Title: A Smuggler & A Gentleman Timeline: post-Firefly (with some alternations) Rating: G (so far) Disclaimer: I Own Nothing Pairing: Mal and Inara Author's Notes: This is my first serial fanfiction. Be gentle with me.

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“Let me get this straight. Inara. You asking me to be your date?” “Yes, Mal. I am.” “You want me to be your date to your Companion Ball?” Inara sighed deeply. “Yes.” What she thought would have been easy was turning into a complete disaster. They were on their way to Beaumont, a planet considered part of The Core, and the man she had made plans with to attend Sherborne Ball had to cancel at the last minute. As a member of the Guild, she was obligated to attend this year and by an escort of her choosing. It was an event dedicated to Companions, so asking Mal had been a last case scenario. “Why in the *insert Chinese curse words* would you even think of asking me?” “You were my last choice,” she answered reluctantly. Mal on the other hand didn’t look the least bit offended by her explanation. “I’m finding it a little hard to believe that you’d have a hard time asking someone to go with you.” “This isn’t like the Ball in Persephone, Mal.” “Let me see: Dancing. Formal wear. Curtseying. Bad conversation.” He checked off each word simultaneously with his fingers. “Possibly a duel or two. Tell me again how this isn’t a Ball?” “The Sherborne Ball is extremely exclusive to Companions. One half of every couple you see and meet is a Companion. It is not the sort of place to bring a client, and seeing that you’re not a client, and that previous experience tells me that you are no stranger to these kinds of—” she paused, thinking of the right word to use, “events, I was hoping you would do me the favor of coming with me.” Mal crossed his arms. “Now there’s something.” “I’m serious, Mal.” “That still doesn’t explain to me anything. You’re smart and you’re beautiful. You can ask any man on any planet and they’ll say yes without a second thought.” Inara nearly blushed at the unintended compliment but then realized how undesirable the irony was. He believed that any man would do her this favor, but the man she is asking didn’t have the compulsion to say yes at all. “True, but I don’t trust any of them.” “Oh, I see,” he nodded knowingly. “What?” “You don’t have many friends outside of the Guild, do you?” For a man as reckless and impulsive as Mal is most of the time, it always left Inara amazed that he can be incredibly perceptive, even if she didn’t want him to know how accurate his statement really was. “Will you do it?” she asked again, and this time a little more frankly. “We barely get along, ‘Nara,” he replied with equal frankness. “What makes you think you and I could play this off as just another shindig? We’d end up arguin’ before the first set of dances end.” “That is probably true, but I would still prefer that we at least try.” The look in his eye told her he wasn’t going to do it.

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“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” “Who knows, sir – maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself,” Zoe said as she climbed down to his bunk carrying a black Wally-bag that contained his formal clothes. She hung it on the ladder while watching the Captain pace a hole on the floor. “Besides, she’s right, you know. This isn’t your first shindig and it won’t be your last.” “Don’t remind me.” “You told me once you enjoyed these kinds of parties.” “That was another lifetime, Zoe.” “Don’t matter,” she said, ignoring the glare he sent her way. “It’ll be a nice change for you. You get to be wined and dined, and assuming you don’t get into any duels, it’s safe to say that tonight could be fun.” “Don’t make something out of nothing.” “Just sayin is all.” Mal eyed the Wally-bag with uncertainty. “Everything all there?” “Dropped it off at the cleaners as soon as we landed and picked it up just now.” He took a deep breath. “Thanks, Zoe.” Zoe looked at him faithfully. “It was my pleasure, sir.” Once she left him alone, Mal slowly unzipped the bag that revealed the tux he hadn’t worn in many years. The richness of the fabric led his mind to a past he didn’t want to remember but couldn’t stop from resurfacing. This was a mistake, and one he couldn’t back out on. He gave his word, and now he couldn’t break it. “I ain’t liking tonight at all.”

To be continued...