Fic: Unexpected Evening

[mgsmurf.livejournal.com]

Title: Unexpected Evening
Author: smurf
Summary: Inara stumbles in on a soldierly grief ritual and comes away much closer to Mal than expected.
Rating: NC-17
Characters: Mal, Inara, Zoe
Pairing: Mal/Inara (het)
Spoilers/Timeline: Set after BDM, spoilers for BDM
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to test drive



In the still night of Serenity, cackling drew Inara to the mess. Coming closer she recognized Zoe's laugh, deep and brassy. Mal's chuckling joined it, which worried Inara even more, thinking they both may have cracked. A dark pall had fallen over Serenity, crept into the mended walls, ever since they'd set out after the incident of Miranda.

Inara stepped softly into the room, the lights on full and the laughter becoming a roar.

Zoe smiled and waved her over with a hand. "'Nara, join us."

Without a shared word Mal rose and went to the sink to fetch a glass. Inara cocked an eyebrow at his less than graceful movements.

"Drinkin' to the fallen," Zoe said.

Mal poured clear liquor into the cup, refilled his own, and handed the new one to Inara with a crocked smile.

"'Member Black Jones?" Zoe asked.

Mal nodded. "Good man." They both lifted their glasses and downed a drink. Inara hurried to join, taking as big a sip of the harsh liquor as possible. It burned down her throat and she blinked back tears.

With a smirk Zoe chuckled. "Always cheated at Red Card, badly."

"Went down fighting though." Mal took another drink.

"Never could do anything halfway, the fool."

Inara bit down another long draw on her drink. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen Zoe drunk before, buzzed, inebriated, tipsy even, but not outright drunk. It bothered Inara some, like the warmth and color in the other woman's cheeks just covered up the grit of grief beneath.

The conversation wore on like that, mention, glimpses, stories of dead comrades, mere strangers to Inara. She drank them equal, a little better than to catch up, but it wouldn't help her understand things better. Some place in the lethargity infusing through her, Inara wondered how a person could deal with such loss, if it filled you up or eventually washed over you. Did a being miss the hundredth person as much as the first?

"What 'bout you, 'Nara, your fallen?" Zoe asked.

Staring into her dark eyes Inara couldn't voice her reply, 'Wash is my only fallen.' She glanced at Mal though. He nodded and blinked, eyes hooded with drink.

"I miss Wash," Inara said. "Serenity seems emptier without him."

Zoe nodded, gaze drifting over the table. "It does."

"He always could say the lightest and wackiest thing at just the right moment." Inara smiled a little at the thought.

Mal chuckled. "That always right frustrated me."

Inara cocked an eyebrow. "Jealous?"

Mal gave his fake surprised look she always found too endearing. "Of Wash?"

"Like he haunts the place." Zoe's voice pulled their attention to her. She ran a hand over the smooth wood of the table. "Even this table. More'n a time, he took me--"

"Whoa!" Mal closed his eyes tight, as if it'd keep him from hearing. "Don't need to hear that."

Zoe softly chuckled, a flicker of a smile falling into a frown. "Feels like he's in the very walls."

Mal shook his head. "Nah. Made right sure to wash all that blood off."

Inara stared at him incrediously. Zoe laughed though. "Should thank you for getting a new pilot chair."

Mal nodded. "Well the other were ruined. Sanity of the crew reckoned it'd be a wise move."

Inara gawked between them. She'd heard the details from Jayne, in regard for why the casket was closed. It had been more than his crude telling that still chilled her, yet here sat the two people to have seen it, closest to the man, joking over it. Someplace in her liquor fuddled mind, Inara wondered if too much loss caused one to face death up front in all its bloody details.

"I miss him too," Zoe told Inara. There was a sadness to the other woman that make Inara wonder if she'd start crying. "Had a way 'bout him," Zoe continued, "centered me something mighty."

Inara glanced over to see a pained expression on Mal's face, a great care for Zoe in his eyes.

A thump brought Inara's attention back to Zoe, who'd passed out, head landing on the table.
"Were worried we wouldn't get to the proper Wash grieving 'fore she did that," Mal said.

A laugh slipped from Inara's lips. "She won't remember a thing come morning."

Mal shook his head. "Don't know my Zoe and her ways 'bout drinking. She remember the import of it all."

He finished his drink and moved around the table to lift Zoe to her feet, bulk of the large woman hanging from his side. Wasn't anything to do but help him. As they maneuvered Zoe back to her quarters, it surprised her how between the two of them Zoe seemed so light when in life she was such a solid force. Lowering Zoe into her quarters took a little more work, thought luckily she'd roused a bit by then and given fumbling aid.

Once they'd laid her on her bed, Mal'd walked her around to the far side, he took off her shoes and belt and vest, then proceeded to take off her pants. Maybe it was the vision of Mal's hands between the fabric of Zoe's pants and the dark, smooth skin of her legs, combined with the concern he'd showed earlier, but it seemed rather intimate, even if Inara was well aware there wasn't romantic inclinations. Knowing how private they both were, Inara took her leave. She could have headed to her shuttle then, no extra voicing of her leave-taking needed, but she remained and waited in the quiet for Mal to reappear.

"Would you care to continue in my shuttle," she asked, not sure what possessed her to offer.

Mal furrowed his brow and blinked. Inara scrunched her face in annoyance, just about to make a comment about 'not biting,' when Mal nodded. "Sure."

#

In her shuttle she got out a bottle of pear brandy, nothing extraordinary, as she reasoned they'd both already had enough to not appreciate it.

Mal settled into the plush cushions of her recently retrieved divan, more relaxed than she thought she'd ever seen before. He drank the brandy she'd offered in gulps while she sipped hers and watched him. There were all sorts of questions about earlier events of the evening she wished to ask, yet none left her lips. A silence fell between them, more comfortable than she'd known before.

Mal looked over at her, his blue eyes hooded. Appraisal of her beauty barely masked his underlying desire. It sent arousal bubbling through her. She inched a little closer, and he continued to watch, breath shallow. She cupped his cheek, stubble coarse beneath her hand, ran a finger over his lips. When she dipped to press a light feather of a kiss upon his lips, he shifted her just a little closer, and she wondered if it was him or her quivering at the sexual vibe suddenly in the room.

She angled her head to kiss him deeper, lips crushed against his with urgency. Mal let out a sigh, and kissed her back with a passion. One hand had her hair cupped against the back of her head, the other ran down her back. Inara gripped his neck, his broad shoulders, his muscled arms.

A fiery dance of needful mouths and tongues, groping hands followed, and Inara lost herself in it, let the world fall away into his touch which seemed to be burning straight through her, sending warmth spreading down her torso and wetness growing between her legs. She moved to straddle him, grinded herself against him, felt the hardness beneath in his pants. Inara knew what she wanted, knew just how to get it, yet still her fingers fumbled over the buttons of his shirt, clumsily kneaded the skin she revealed.

"All means of wrong," Mal said, his lips all over her mouth, cheeks, ears, and neck. Inara nodded as he removed her top, dipped to suckle at her breasts. She reached between them to undo his pants, take his hardened yin jing.

"We should stop," he said, almost as a moan.

"Do you really wish to?" She gave him a solid stroke causing his hips to lift up.

"Wo de tian, a," Mal sighed. Inara rose to discard her underclothes, resettled and sank onto him, revealing in the way he stretched her. Her breath clinched a little in her throat, knowing she could take advantage of him, wishing she wasn't.

His hands solid and gripping on her hips, he whispered, "Ta ma de." And Inara found herself sighing and relaxing further into his embrace. They set a steady pace, both still partly clothed. She tugged his pants further down to allow more movement. He shifted through her silk skirt to rub a calloused hand on her clit.

For a time it was all about the need that had been building so long, the liquor in them both. It surprised her how vocal Mal was, moaning, sighing, even growling with his trusts. Inara threw back her head, let her own sounds of pleasure issue from his throat, pass her lips. Hands braced against his shoulders, she raised her knees, angled her hips to better move upon him. His mouth devoured her breasts, tongue and teeth tugging at her erect nipples.

His fingers glided over her slick yin he, and she rocked against him, trembled in his arms. She could feel her orgasm just lingering for a moment, held at bay. The blue in Mal's eyes was a mere ring around the dilated blacks, and they somehow seemed more open than she could ever remember. Levering her hips to meet his thrusts she leaned back and let go, felt a moan escape as she convolsed around him.

Suddenly Mal flipped them, him on top, thrusting. Still humming, Inara couldn't help the gasp that came as he hit just the right spot. He smirked, and she tightened her inner muscles skillfully around him. Mal's eyes actually rolled back in his head, his moan blissful, smirk falling away.

But now didn't seem the time to play, and they quickly resumed their pace. There was such a manly need in his powerful movements. Inara gripped his shoulders and back, revealing in the shifting muscles beneath her hands. Their bodies slick, she knew neither could hold out much longer.

"Come for me, Mal" she whispered into his ear.

He growled in response and she could feel him thicken inside her. Swift thrusts and he was coming, emptying himself into her with jerks of his hips, eyes unfocused on her. It was just what Inara needed and she followed him, falling to pieces with the strength of her orgasm.

They both finally regained control, breaths raspy, bodies still joined. With a sad smile, Mal pulled out and off of her, plopped into the cushions beside her. And she just lay there, exposed and uncomposed in a way she wasn't sure she could remember, yet not caring.

The silence lingered to uncomfortness though. "No need to make anything of this," Mal finally said, voice hoarse. "Just a company fuck."

"A what?" Inara turned to him, and tried not to wrap her clothes around her naked skin. But with him sitting there, pants at his knees still, shirt flung open, flacid yin jing resting against his thigh she couldn't feel the need.

"A...." He frowned, eyes lazily watching her. "Just physical need fulfilled."

She did gather herself then, just enough to seem more dignified, her skirt down, letting off an air of comfort about her bare breasts. "Why, Mal, I never figured you for the casual type." In fact, evidence seemed to go against any such thoughts, for if the man was more casual with sex he would have certainly slept with at least a few of the crew, including herself.

That flustered him, and he pulled up his pants, a blush almost coming to his cheeks. "I ain't, of a fashion least."

Inara tried to hide her smile. "Would you like tea?" Perhaps some would clear her head a bit. She rose to make it whatever his answer. Back to Mal, she removed her skirt and felt his gaze on her. Grabbing a robe she loosely tied it around her, the soft kiss of silk on her skin lovely combined with her blissful mood.

"Aren't you supposed to use your wiles 'fore you have your way with me?"

Inara turned back to him with a scornful look. "Mal." She held her anger in check though, seeing the embarrassed look on his face. She simply wasn't in the mood for one of their typical fights.

"I'm drunk." Mal sighed, eyes dazed. With a tug he pulled his shirt closed. She couldn't help but notice his still unbuckled pants though. Not that she thought he was shy about nudity. "Didn't right mean it," he continued. "But, with the drinking, and talking about fallen comrades, man gets a need for closeness is all."

Inara readied the teapot and then settled back beside him just as Mal was finally doing up his pants. "I suppose it's not just men and old soliders who feel such things."

"You mean to stay for the long term?" he asked.

Inara knew surprise showed on her face. Never was Mal a direct man with her, especially on matters between them. Listening to the tea water warm, she sighed. "After what happened, Serenity and the others are more home and family than perhaps even the Guild has ever been to me. Whatever is between you and me is not enough to make me leave again."

Mal nodded, and it proved Inara had chosen the right words, made sure she stressed her staying was to do with the others. But her heart still hammered at the thought that things could work out between her and Mal as well.

"Reckoned as much," Mal said. "And I've no reason to ask you to leave. But what just happened can't be repeated."

Inara raised an eyebrow. "And why not?" She would be treading on slippery ground to get involved with Mal, but perhaps given recent events it didn't seem so reckless.

"Thought more'n a mite on us, after you left." There was a stark seriousness to Mal's voice. He shook his head. "We'd never right work. Can think of a mess of reasons why."

The teapot whistled and Inara used it as an excuse to raise and hide the tears that threatened to fill her eyes, mentally flogging herself for losing her composure. "If that's what you think," she said, her voice almost solid.

"Don't get me wrong," he said, and Inara wondered if he had heard the hurt in her voice, "not that I don't want you 'neath me again, all means of...."

Inara paused, listening to his shallow breathing, the fact that she could affect him such falling flat. When he finally gave a deep, gravely sigh, she turned around, knew she'd greet the darker version of Mal she'd finally seen in the affair over Miranda.

"You a clue on where we're headed, future of things?" Mal asked. "Longterm, I reckon we only made things worse. They'll be others after River. And facts of Miranda just stirred up a mess in the Alliance been laying low since 'fore even the war."

Inara brought over their tea. Sat rigid beside him as she sipped. She hadn't really knowledge about how bad things could go, like most of the crew she'd hoped things had made a turn for the better.

"And just how far would you take things?" Inara asked. "All the way to another war?"

Mal frowned. "If need be."

Inara shook her head, sipped her tea. "Just what makes you think we'll follow?"

Mal leaned in, and his voice had a harsh quality when he replied, "Lot of you defiled my ship, followed me in a mess 'tween the Reavers and Alliance none of us should have lived through. You've proven you'd follow me."

"Even Zoe?"

"Don't you think I know what responibility rests on things," Mal said in a gravely voice. "Wash is dead 'cause of me, where his trust in me lead him, ain't the first by a long list, and reckon he won't be the last. And with things the way they're headed I need all my reason and energy to go to not wasting that trust you all give me and lose another member of my crew." He shook his head, gave a sad frown. "Can't waste it on the complication you 'cause, whatever my desires to go repeating things."

Inara blinked. That may have been the longest bit of serious honesty she'd ever heard from the man.

"What?" Mal crinkled his forehead in worry.

"Nothing." Inara shook her head, sighed. "It's just, I'm not sure we've ever spoken this frankly before."

"Never had sex 'fore tonight neither?" His smile was almost as boisterous as he may have intended. "And if you're speaking frankly," he continued, lowering his eyes before looking her dead on with that intensity that had a way of melting her knees, "I may not think we'd work out, but I also think I may love you."

Inara couldn't make herself admit the same, even if the rapid beating of her heart seemed to indicate otherwise. "Mal, I'm sorry I may not have always been honest with you about my feelings in regards to us."

Mal gave another sad smile, and she wondered if it was reserved for his current feelings on them. "Part of who you are, I do get that. Sorry I kinda decided things for the both of us."

Inara saddly smiled in reply. "You're not the only one guilty of doing so."

"Water passed." Mal nodded, sighed. "Best I get going. Someone'll have to be up in the morning to run the ship, especial with no help from Zo." He put his hands on his knees like he meant to raise. "And thanks." Raising his gaze back to hers she could still feel the connection between them, and she wanted to cling to it and hope it would weather the future. "It was special to me that it was you tonight."

"Likewise." She smiled up at him as he finally stood.

He lingered there, awkward, reminding her of so many other times he'd been in her shuttle. But the searing look he was giving her was new, she was certain. And Inara wondered what would happen if she rose and joined him, kissed him, pulled him down on the bed with her. Yet, she knew she should respect his decision on the matter, give him the honesty he did deserve from her, the honesty he'd shown her.

"Nigh 'Nara." Mal smiled, shy and happy, as he moved to the door.

"Night," Inara softly answered as he turned and left. She couldn't help but frown at the closeness she felt she'd finally achieved just as he'd shut a down on a future between them.


Chinese Translations:
Yin jing = Penis
Wo de tian, a = Dear God in heaven
Ta ma de = Fuck me blind
Yin he = clit