A/N here's the rest of Part 3... Part 4 is in the works. As always, all belongs to Joss, I'm just borrowing them!

Go back and read the Other Parts: 1 2 3A

Choices – Part 3 B by 2x2

“Hey, easy,” said Mal, scooching his chair around the table to smooth his hand across Inara’s back. He gave her a couple of gentle pats as she fought to clear her airway.

“Lao tian ye,” she sputtered, wiping the tears from her eyes, very aware of Mal’s proximity. He leaned closer, rubbing her back, his fingers hot against the thin silk of her dress. She shuddered and closed her eyes.

“Ain’t much of a drinker are you?” he chided.

“I drink enough,” protested Inara, sitting up carefully and turning her head towards him. He let his hand trail down her back to rest on the chair behind her. “…Wine, and other cultured spirits. Not this, this le se you’re trying to poison me with!”

He chuckled, grinning. “Ah, come on. It’ll put hair on your chest!”

She glared at him in mock seriousness, secretly enjoying their banter. “I hardly think that’s something I want to encourage, considering my line of work--” she trailed off, regretting the words the moment they were out of her mouth. Oh, you sha gua! she cursed herself as she saw his smile falter.

He looked away, swallowing. “No. I guess not,” he said hollowly, leaning back in his chair, away from her.

She sighed inwardly and cursed, mourning the easy flow they’d for once managed to nurture. Desperate to get it back, she glanced at the table and, as much as her stomach protested, she picked up the bottle and poured half of the remaining liquid into the glass.

“Looks like we’ve reached the bottom of the bottle,” she said with false cheeriness, trying her best to draw him back to her. She held out the bottle, hopeful. “What should we drink to?”

He stared back at her a moment and then leaned forward and took the bottle, grasping it by the neck with two fingers. She lifted her glass and cocked her head, waiting. When he looked away and said nothing, she forced a fake smile and raised her glass. “To Serenity,” she started and he interrupted her with bitter laughter.

“To pain,” he said roughly, turning back to face her, daring her to contradict. “Misery. Sorrow. Emptiness…” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Hate.”

Her chest went tight and she felt herself tremble, blinking at the sudden moisture in her eyes. Resigned that this was the way it was always going to be between them, she nodded. “Sorrow and pain,” she echoed. “Fear… Love.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, everything held in their breaths, motionless and silent.

“Why are you leavin’?” he whispered at last, his voice roughened by anguish and pain, struggling with the wetness in his own eyes. She swallowed coarsely and squeezed her eyes shut, a tear escaping to run down her cheek as she fought the overwhelming ache in her heart.

“Mal, don’t--” she implored.

“Qu ni de!” Mal spat, slamming the bottle on the table and staggering to his feet with a glower. He shoved his chair away and stumbled toward the door angrily.

Inara jumped up to follow but had to steady herself with a hand on the table as her head swam, her stomach lurching violently with her quick movement. She put a hand to her mouth and groaned. The alcohol was affecting her faster than she’d expected and she knew it hadn’t hit her half as hard as it yet would.

“Go se, Mal, wait!” she called after him as he disappeared out the door. She strode forward but was forced to stop suddenly as two men stood and blocked her path, one large and the other short, neither of them pretty. Inara blinked at them in confusion.

“Well now,” said the first man, grinning unpleasantly. “Where are you runnin’ off to so soon? We ain’t got a chance to get to know each other yet!” He reached out and ran a hand over her bare arm suggestively. She tried to step away, only to be forced back against the table by the second man as he crowded her.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice slippery and distasteful. “You don’t need no bu zhong yong chan like him,” he motioned the way Mal had gone with his head. “Why don’t you let some real men take care of you, eh?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not a—I don’t work here,” explained Inara through the haze in her mind, growing extremely uncomfortable. She tried to pull away from the first man’s touch again but his fingers curled around her bicep tightly, keeping hold of her.

He grinned lecherously. “That don’t matter none. We don’t mind,” he laughed. The other man inched forward, rubbing his fingers together in anticipation of touching the silky material that clothed her.

“Let go of me,” demanded Inara, infusing her voice with as much authority and haughtiness she could manage to mask her growing fear.

“We just want a little fun,” said the second man, taking hold of her other arm. Beginning to panic, she tried to twist away but they used her motion to pull her closer to them. She was on the verge of a scream when she suddenly heard the high-pitched whine and serious click of a pistol being cocked and everyone froze.

“Conjure you’d best be doin’ as the Lady asked,” came Mal’s voice, cold and deadly as the barrel of his pistol came to rest against the back of the first man’s skull. The second man released Inara’s arm and went for a gun. “I wouldn’t,” warned Mal at the same time as Gabr’elle’s voice rang out.

“Do as he says, Whelt,” she said, stepping through the curtains, a large rifle pointed at the man. “You know I won’t stand for that sort of conduct in my place, and I undeniably will not tolerate you drawin’ that pistol, you hear me?”

Whelt hesitated, looking from Gabr’elle to Mal and back again.

“Ain’t no harm done,” said the first man, lifting his hands in the air. “Obviously our mistake. Ain’t that right Whelt?… Whelt! Ain’t that right?”

Whelt glared at him but finally relaxed, his hands lifting slowly in placation. “Yeah,” he said at last, cold rage in his voice. “Reckon that’s so.”

“Inara,” said Mal, motioning for her to get behind him. She squeezed past the two men, doing her best to avoid touching them, and stood behind Mal.

“Now,” said Mal, taking a step backwards to put more distance between them and the two men. “We gonna have a problem with this, or are we all done here? ‘Cause I can end it right now,” he told them, his eyes never leaving Whelt.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done,” said the first man hastily. “Right Whelt?” Whelt stared back at Mal with deadly gravity.

“Oh, we’re done awright,” he said, leaving Mal far from convinced.

“Then get your pei gou’s outside!” ordered Gabr’elle, marching toward them with her rifle still leveled at them. “Now. Take yourselves home and cool off.”

Whelt turned his dark stare on Gabr’elle, unmoving.

“C’mon Whelt,” the other man said at last, giving his friend a nudge. Whelt smiled a mirthless smile and then turned away, leaving the saloon without a backward glance, the other man on his tail.

Tension eased out of the room and Mal holstered his pistol. He turned to Inara, touching her arm gently to get her attention.

“You okay?”

She drew in a shaky breath and nodded, hugging her arms around herself. Mal held her gaze for a beat before turning to Gabr’elle.

“Reckon we’ve brought some trouble on you,” he said.

Gabr’elle waved it off. “Whelt and his lot have been gettin' up to no good round these parts for months. Nothin’ new in that, though I wouldn’t leave here on foot for anywhere tonight, if I was you. I can have my man drive you where you need to go if you aren’t for stayin’, though there’s risk enough in that too.”

Mal glanced at Inara, looking unsure. She knew he would prefer to be back on Serenity, but she could see that he could barely stand, and though he had put up a good front, things probably would’ve gotten nasty if Gabr’elle hadn’t decided to help them out. She didn’t know if he’d be able to defend them out there if the need arose. But at the same time, she wasn’t about to try and tell him what to do, considering he had far more experience with these sorts of situations than she did.

“It’s up to you,” she said. “Whatever you think is best.”

He nodded. “Then I’m for gettin' us back on Serenity. If you can have your man take us, we’d be mighty appreciative.”

Gabr’elle smiled dryly. “No trouble. I’ll just add it to the bill.”

* * * * *

Lao tian ye = jesus le se = garbage sha gua = idiot Qu ni de = go to hell chan = coward / weak bu zhong yong = unfit for anything/no good/useless/

Go to Part 4