What if Mal had stopped Inara from walking away after she told him she was leaving? Hmmm . . . . . . let’s see.

“Inara, I ain’t looking for anything from you I’m just feeling kind of truthsome right now. Life is too damn short for ifs and maybes.”

“I learned something from Nandi. Not just from what happened, but from her. The family she made, the strength of her love for them. That’s what kept them together. When you live with that kind of strength, you get tied to it, you can’t break away. And you never want to.”

Eyes lock, expressions carefully blank.

“There’s something that I... that I should have done a long while ago. And I’m sorry -- for both of us -- that it took me this long.” Her eyes dart away then back, his body tenses and mind races.

“I’m leaving.”

The cold steel in her voice orders him to say nothing, do nothing. Turning quickly she gathers the shreds of her self -control about her and attempts a dignified retreat.

He never was good at following orders.

~ “Wait. Inara,” his voice rose threateningly, thick with emotion as she only increased her pace. “I said,” he strode after her, catching up quickly at the top of the stairs. “Wait.”

He grabbed her right forearm and swung her around against him pinning her, his hands gripping her forearms almost hard enough to bruise. Remorse hit him like a bullet to the heart as he saw her tear streaked face and he unconsciously loosened his grip, his expression softening.

“Inara,” he said quietly trying unsuccessfully to catch her eyes with his, “what is this really about?” She was standing very still, pinned against him. “This ain’t really about what happened between me ‘n Nandi, is it?”

His face hardened as she said nothing. “After all,” he smiled brittely, “You’re not my lover. Neither are you my mother, my House Mistress or anyone who has the slightest say in how I conduct my affairs.’” he quoted, using her own words against her. ”And besides, we both know what you do durin’ your work hours.”

The flash of anger across her face was his only warning.

~

Her eyes snapped up to his face. He looked so sure of himself, so very damn self-assured. “You pompous, self-righteous, huh choo-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo.” she hissed between clenched teeth a moment before she jerked her arms out of his grasp and her fist snaked out to catch him in the chin.

Mal had gotten much worse before, she knew, but unbalanced already from her pulling away suddenly the punch sent him tipping precariously backwards. “Tzao gao!” he cried out as his hands scrambled frantically for something to stop his fall.

She froze. Time seemed to slow as she watched, horrified. He rolled unchecked, his head hitting the last step with a sickening thud.

“Mal!” she practically screamed, as he lay unmoving at the bottom of the steps. Time came roaring back as she nearly flew down the steps to his still form. Too still. Skidding to a stop she fell to her knees and carefully rolled him over. ”Mal? Bao bay?”

~

Something was tickling his face and it was soft and smelled like lilacs. He wanted to grab a couple fistfuls and bury his face in that curtain of scented silk and just inhale. So he did.

The loud yelp surprised him enough to let go and he fought groggily to become fully consciousness. “Mal, oh bao bay. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to I swear.” Both of Inara’s faces swam blurrily looming large in his field of vision and she made a funny sound in her throat.

“Huh? Wha happened?” he screwed his eyes shut tightly, “How much did I drink last night? An’ why’re you apologizin’?” he cracked an eye open as his mind registered what she had called him, “An’ did you call me sweetheart?” She looked flustered suddenly. He opened both eyes and scrutinized her more intently.

“Have you been cryin’?” he asked genuinely concerned.

She turned her face away but didn’t move from kneeling over him. “You pulled my hair hard.” she replied, somewhat defensively it seemed to him. Then it dawned on him that the scented silk he had fantasized about had actually been her hair. “Oh, sorry.” he said, somewhat lamely. The moment stretched out awkwardly. “Um, so how did we get like this?”

Pain filled her expression and she glanced away, when she looked back a defiant light shown in her eyes.

“I pushed you down the steps.”

“Oh.” The whole episode suddenly flashed before his eyes and he cringed and gritted his teeth at the words he’d said and the hurt they’d caused. A man could happily sell his soul for a chance to chase those shadows from her eyes.

“Mal? Mal, are you alright? Should I get Simon? I’ll go get him.” She moved her hands off his shoulders to stand and leave him.

“Inara, wait.” he grasped her wrist gently but firmly and she paused and waited.

Eyes lock, expressions carefully blank.

Screw pride.

He sat up slowly, carefully, then pulling gently on her wrist, coaxed her into his arms, and kissed her, coaxingly, passionately. Into that kiss he poured all his longing and worry for her and it took her breath away.

“Wow.” Inara breathed when they finally separated.

“Yeah.” Mal replied hoarsely with a chuckle, “That sure was somethin’.” He grinned at her and leaned in to kiss her again.

They both turned quickly at the sound of footsteps as Shepherd Book entered the cargo bay reading his Bible. He stopped abruptly as he spotted them, Inara seated firmly in Mal’s lap. Chuckling to himself he re-opened his Bible and moved on.

“It’s about time.” He murmured to no one in particular as he went up the steps.

As soon as they could no long hear his footsteps the pair burst out laughing. “Well, it serves us right for smootchin’ in such a public area.” Mal muttered good-naturedly.

“Well maybe we should go somewhere a little more private.” Inara responded coyly.

“Ladies first.” With no further encouragement necessary the two headed hand-in-hand for Inara’s shuttle.