A/N: Thanks to SD Wolfpup for the speed-beta, and for co-founding the Summer of Serenity in the first place.

And alone in my room as I am right now
I can almost see calling your name
And as memory fades into intention
They seem to be one and the same
-- Jeffrey Foucault, "Street Light Halos"



Inara Serra knows that it is simple fact, and not pride, to say that she is one of the most sought-after Companions in the Guild. Fact, and not pride, that she has done her best to maintain beauty of her body and her soul, that she is intelligent, resourceful, strong-willed, and powerful.

Given all of these factors, she doesn't want to think about why such a simple thing as leaving a battered, isolated smuggling ship is proving so difficult.



A week away from Nandi’s funeral, Inara is making her first inquiries into other appointments when Jubal Early pays Serenity a visit. Kaylee has nightmares for eight nights running, and Inara abandons the luxury of her shuttle to curl up in Kaylee's narrow bunk, half-buried in pink ruffles, and stroke the younger girl's hair until she falls asleep.

Mal catches her leaving Kaylee's room on the sixth morning, and she can see the bitter comment forming behind his lips—his habitual, well-worn crack about servicing the crew—but he keeps his mouth tightly shut, gives her a curt nod as he sweeps past her. In the few seconds that he meets her gaze, she sees surprise and gratitude in his eyes, but there's a thick coat of ice over it.

It's nothing new. She shivers anyway.

She intends to go directly back to her shuttle and respond to Chancellor Taka's invitation to sojourn awhile on Ceres, but she runs into Simon on the way, leading River by the hand as she makes her deliberate way up the steps toward the crew quarters.

"Inara," he greets her, looking slightly anxious, as usual.

"Good morning, Simon," she smiles, and puts a hand on River's shoulder. "Good morning, River."

River smiles back, pats Inara's hand. "Freezing temperature of blood is below zero degrees Celsius," she says encouragingly. "You'll be all right."

It stuns her, as River's uncanny perception always does, but Inara keeps her pleasant expression fixed in place, and then Simon is speaking.

"Inara, have you—have you seen Kaylee? Wash says he’s heard her crying from the bridge when he’s on night watch, says she hasn't been sleeping well since…" he trails off.

Her smile becomes genuine, and sympathetic. "Fang xin, Simon. She's shaken, but she'll be fine. She just needs time."

Relief floods his features, and gratitude. "Thank you. I wanted to—but—" he glances at River, who looks at him, fond and sad.

"Poor Simon." She shakes her head. "Too old for babysitting. Could be baby-making, if—"

Simon clears his throat to stop her, blushes, but laughs, too, and Inara has seen that all too rarely. "All right, mèimei. Time to go." He puts an arm around his sister, leads her past Inara with an expression of brotherly exasperation on his face. "Thank you, Inara," he says again, over his shoulder, with another grateful smile, and River's giggle echoes around the stairwell.

Inara sends her regrets to Chancellor Taka.



That's how it starts, and that's how it continues. Kaylee finally sleeps soundly on the ninth night, but two days after that, Inara begins a philosophical discussion with Shepherd Book that stretches from one afternoon tea into five. Four nights after that, Kaylee's bunk is mysteriously empty, and Simon's mysteriously crowded, and Inara can't leave before she has the chance to giggle and sigh over the details while she brushes Kaylee's hair, to enjoy the half-embarrassed, half-incredulous look that seems to have taken up permanent residence on Simon's face. That takes a solid two weeks, and then Zoe is wounded in yet another deal gone bad, and Inara spends hours in the infirmary assisting Simon, stays to watch the pale and haggard tension on Wash's face relax into laughter again. Then Jayne actually smiles at River over dinner, when he thinks no one can see—granted, it's a twisted, feral Jayne smile, and he's smiling at River's detailed description of the human digestive system that appears to be ruining Mal's dinner, but it's a smile nonetheless, and she spends three days waiting for it to reappear.

So the days pass, and invitations and offers pour in, and she sends polite regrets to every one. Sihnon had been a web of silk, delicate and intricate; Serenity is more like a well-worn blanket, rough and flawed and somehow all the more seductive for it. And through it all, Mal greets her with stony silence, only speaking to her when absolutely necessary—usually to inquire as to when she'll be vacating his boat so he can find another renter—and even then, he barely looks at her.

But something is building in him, she can see it. She realizes that she's waiting for the storm to break.




"What's wrong with you and the Cap'n?" Kaylee finally asks bluntly on the forty-fifth day, staring into the mirror, holding one of Inara's dresses carefully against her body.

Inara has been waiting for the question, so she only smiles. "It's nothing, mèimei." Watching Kaylee's hands idly smooth the silk over her hips, Inara feels a pang of guilt that her friend still knows nothing of her plans, unfulfilled though they are.

Kaylee wrinkles her nose, frustrated. "'Nara. I tell you everything, don't I?"

Raising an eyebrow, Inara answers, "I don't know. Do you?"

And Kaylee blushes, drops her eyes. "Well, sometimes Simon—" she starts, grinning, but then she stops herself in mid-sentence, fixes Inara with a steady gaze. "That's not the point. He's miserable, you know."

"Who? Simon?" Inara asks, teasing. "I can't imagine that."

"'Nara."

She sighs. "Mal's always miserable. It's part of his charm, his anti-heroic persona." It's a struggle to keep her tone light, but she manages.

The mechanic just shakes her head. "Not like this. He near took Jayne's head off the other day just for takin' one of Shepherd Book's tomatoes, and he hollered at Wash for that rocky landing on Santo, even with the winds, and now Zoe ain't speakin' to him, neither." She puts the dress down on Inara's bed and faces her squarely. "I can't read people like you can, but it don't take a genius to see the source of his trouble."

Inara sighs again. "It's complicated, Kaylee."

"Well, of course it is!" Kaylee answers, rolling her eyes. "Serenity's pretty complicated, too, but I talk to her well enough, I take the time." Inara can't quite muster a response to that, so Kaylee continues, "You told me a million times—Companionin' ain't just about sex, it's about healin', right? You ever met anyone more in need of healin' than the captain?"

The question hits Inara like a slap in the face, and it's a moment before she can speak. "The Captain isn't one of my clients," she says finally, evenly, and Kaylee is opening her mouth to retort when a voice behind them shocks them both into silence.

"No, that I certainly am not."

Inara allows her eyes to close in a moment of silent questioning of the gods before she turns to face Mal, looming large in her doorway. "I don't recall inviting you here, Captain," she tells him stiffly, after a moment.

He gives her a mirthless smile, the kind he usually reserves for Badger and his ilk. "I'm here to inspect the premises. Landlord's prerogative, you know." He glances over at Kaylee. "Kaylee, if you're not too busy, there's a noise comin' from the engine room that don't exactly sound like angel-song. You reckon you could check that out for me?"

"Of course, Cap’n," Kaylee answers hastily, but Inara catches a muttered comment about "Captain Crankypants" as her friend disappears out the door.

She smoothes her dress, hates herself for betraying any nervousness. "Captain. How many times are we going to have to discuss this? As long as I'm a paying tenant—"

He's still got that mockery of a grin on his face as he deliberately steps into her room, but the coldness he's been wearing like a shield for the past several weeks is gone, replaced by simmering temper. "Well, now, that's just what I'm here to talk to you about. It's awfully difficult to find another renter when my current one seems to be taking her sweet time in making alternate arrangements."

She lifts her chin. "Under the terms of my lease, I am entitled to—"

"You tell Kaylee yet?" he interrupts her, jerking his head toward the door. "Tell her she's going to have to find a way to brush her own hair from now on?"

She can feel herself flushing, hopes the dim light in her shuttle—her shuttle, still, she thinks defiantly—will hide it. "No."

"You gonna wait until her birthday or something? Maybe tell her right before?"

"No," she says quietly, sudden tears pricking at her eyes and a knot in her stomach.

He just looks at her for a second, and something softens almost imperceptibly in his expression, but when he speaks, his tone is implacable. "I've tried to respect your privacy in this, Inara, and as you have reason to know, I'm not a particularly patient man."

She clears her throat. "And I appreciate it, Mal. Truly." It's been so long since she's called him anything but "Captain"—his name feels strange and familiar in her mouth.

He crosses his arms. "Then you can appreciate my confusion as to what, exactly, is goin' on here."

Forcing herself to fold her hands casually in front of her, she begins, "I've had some trouble finding a suitable—"

"Gôu pì," he interrupts rudely, with a wave of his hand. "You've made it clear to all of us many a time that you get a dozen better offers every week. Ain't a planet in this 'verse wouldn't be glad to have you, and you know it." He steps closer. "If you're waiting for the rending of garments and the begging you not to go, you'll be waitin' a long time. You want to leave, I got no call to stop you—never could see how this life was right for you, anyway."

That's enough to spark her own temper. "The sheer tonnage of what you can't see, Mal, could flatten a team of oxen. I make my own choices. I chose this life. Chose Serenity."

"And now you're choosin' to leave, yeah, I get it. It's all very inspirational and brings a tear to my eye, but for a woman who's so set on leaving, you certainly seem to be doing an awful lot of stayin'."

The last few words have a faint overtone of realization to them, and her stomach drops, but she manages to keep her eyes on his, her chin high. "The time hasn't been right." Deliberately calm, as if it's all been part of her plan.

He laughs. "My experience, the time for a retreat never is."

"Is that what you think this is?"

"Oh," he shrugs, "I'm not saying there's any shame in it—done it more than a few times my own self, as you've been so kind as to point out—but let's call it by its rightful name."

She just gives a pointed sigh. "Are we going to arrive at a point anytime soon, Captain?"

"Glad you asked," he shoots back, with his trademark false cheer. "The point is, I'm done waitin'. Hidin' things ain't good for my crew, and it ain't good for my boat." She raises an eloquent eyebrow; he rolls his eyes, stammers for a second. "Not… I mean… you know what I mean." He takes one more step toward her, and now she can feel the heat from his folded arms, almost brushing the cloth at her shoulders. "It's been weeks, Inara, and it seems to me that you're on the fence, and you know how I feel about fences." He smiles a little, a smug, predatory gleam in his eye now, the kind he gets when he's on the verge of closing a deal. "You make your own choices, right? So choose."

He's looking down at her, and she can see the effect of her carefully-applied perfume, watch his eyes lose their focus just the tiniest bit as he unconsciously inhales. For the first time, she hates it, and when he speaks again, his voice is low and rough. "Choose, Inara. Stay or go."

She can't take her eyes from his face, and they haven't been this close for too many days, and she hasn't been a Companion for years without knowing the look of a man about to kiss her. She can feel the pull between their bodies, and she sways a tiny bit closer without meaning to, her hands half a second from bridging the gap. Panic licks low in her belly, and the word spills from her mouth without thought, almost without breath:

"Go."

He's perfectly still for a second, then he blinks once, like he's waking from a dream. The space between them goes abruptly cold, and it hurts more than she's prepared for. Her chest tightens, her stomach is lead, and she can almost count the seconds before she's going to shame herself and cry in front of him.

But he spares her that, gathers himself, steps back with a curt nod. "Right. Well, then. Supper in an hour—you can tell everyone then."

She nods, not trusting her voice, and then he's gone.

She has a sudden, wild desire to find Kaylee and sob into a sympathetic shoulder, discover if Serenity's engine room is as comforting to Companions as it is to mechanics. Instead, she closes her eyes, takes ten deep, calming breaths.

When she sits down at her Cortex screen to accept Lady Moreno’s invitation, her hands barely shake at all.



Wash is shocked, Jayne seems annoyed, and Kaylee is near-inconsolable at the news, but within eight days, she's going over her shuttle one last time, brightly-colored bags and boxes piled neatly in the doorway and her stomach full from the farewell breakfast that had been Shepherd Book's last gift to her.

The shuttle looks larger without all of her things in it, battered metal and mended edges where she's used to seeing silk and candlelight. But it looks right, somehow, too, pure Serenity, once again an organic part of the ship she's grown to love. She puts a hand to the wall, whispers thanks through a tight throat, then descends to the cargo bay, where the crew is waiting for her.

Lady Moreno’s servants are there already to transport her belongings, but she barely notices; all she can see are her friends, the family that Mal has drawn to him, and herself on the outside. Her eyes burn, the figures blur, and then Jayne breaks the silence.

"So, since you ain't one of us anymore, how 'bout a little somethin' to remember you by?" he asks, leering, and it's the perfect thing to say. There’s a chorus of groans, along with a threatening look from Zoe. Mal doesn’t make a sound, just drops his head to his chest. Inara gives the mercenary her sweetest smile.

"I wouldn't want to ruin you for other women, Jayne," she tells him, exasperated and affectionate. He huffs with disappointment, but winks at her anyway. She moves to Zoe and Wash next, standing with their hands entwined.

"It's been a pleasure, Inara," Zoe smiles, but there's a hint of reserve there, too, and Inara is glad of it; Zoe's loyalty to her captain is commendable and comforting. Wash gives her his usual grin, a little crooked with sadness.

"Be careful out there, all right? Shuttle's going to seem empty without you… you always had a good hand with her."

Inara smiles. "I’m going to miss you. Take care of yourselves, and of Serenity."

"Well, sure,” Wash drawls, shrugging, “now that we won't have a Companion to keep us respectable anymore, we'll no doubt be doing all manner of dirty deeds.”

Zoe raises an eyebrow, and Inara turns to face Shepherd Book, who presses her hand between both of his, gives her one of his sun-warm smiles. "It's been an honor," he says simply, and that starts the tears in her eyes again.

"And for me," she replies, formally, but she squeezes his hand tightly.

"Lion and the lamb," River puts in, standing next to the Shepherd. "Sun and shadow."

Inara puts a hand to the girl's cheek. "Take care of your brother, all right?" she admonishes, including Simon in her smile. River nods emphatically.

"You'll take care of them all," Inara tells the young doctor, and when he nods with complete confidence, she feels something like pride swell in her heart. "Be safe, both of you. If you need anything…"

"Water can't be divided," River tells her, solemn, "it's all one piece. Have to freeze it, or boil it, till it becomes something else. Not itself anymore."

But before Inara can dwell on that too much, she looks at Kaylee, clutching Simon's hand like a lifeline, and the lump in her throat grows jagged edges.

"Wave us when you get there, all right?" Kaylee asks, giving her a watery smile, her eyes and nose red and raw. "I want to hear all about it… about your clients, and the sex, and the—" but that's all she can manage, and then she just throws her arms around Inara's neck and clings, sobbing into her shoulder.

Inara strokes the tangled brown hair, whispering, "Shhh, mèimei, shhh." She closes her eyes against her own tears. "We'll see each other again, I promise." She thinks of the prettily wrapped package she left on Kaylee's bed, thinks of the fine cloth inside, thinks what an inadequate offering it is in return for such friendship.

Kaylee holds tight for another moment, then resolutely steps back, swiping the back of her hand across her nose. "Messin' up your pretty dress," she sniffles, but when Simon offers her a handkerchief, she gives him a shy, secret smile even through her tears, and Inara's heart eases somewhat. They're in danger, all of them, but they're strong together.

"Wo ai ni, xiao mèimei. Be good."

The mechanic nods, takes Simon's hand again. Mal is standing behind her, and Inara has no idea of what to say to him, so it's almost a relief when he tells her gruffly, "I'll see you to the shuttle."

She nods, though her heart is beginning to pound in a most un-Companion-like way, and they walk together in silence, down Serenity's ramp, across the dusty ground and up the steps of the small shuttle that will bring her to Londinium. They eventually stand facing each other in the shuttle's opulent outer room, and Inara knows a thousand polite phrases to smooth a moment, but she can't think of a single one.

"Well," Mal says finally.

She clears her throat, forces her tongue into motion. "Thank you, Captain. My time on board Serenity has been…" She smiles a little. "Indescribable."

His brow furrows. "Not quite sure how to take that."

Her smile widens. "As a compliment, Mal." She pauses. "For once." He gives a small, rueful chuckle, his eyes fixed on the floor, and then silence descends again.

"Be careful," she manages, focused on a small tear on the shoulder of his shirt.

"You too."

Silence again, and she wants to scream. It's ridiculous, and Jayne had a point, and she might never see him again, and there aren't any words for what she wants to say anyway… so before she can stop herself, she reaches up and pulls his mouth down to hers.

He's stunned and still for half a second, but then he makes a strangled sound and falls into the kiss, his mouth hungry and one of his hands fisted tightly in the smooth fabric at her shoulder. She feels sparks everywhere that their bodies are in contact, dizzy and desperate and she doesn't care, she doesn't care.

When they finally break apart, moments or hours later, his eyes are hot and she can't seem to get enough breath into her lungs. "This doesn't change anything, Mal," she tells him, and her voice scrapes harsh in her ears.

He just looks at her, and she's received a thousand looks from a thousand men, but never one like this. Then he shakes his head. "Never expected that it would," he says simply, then turns his back and walks away.

As soon as he starts back up Serenity's ramp, Inara's legs wobble under her, and she's relieved that no one is there to see her graceless slide into a nearby chair. She can barely make out the figures in the shaded cargo hold, see Mal's arm go out, gathering them in, see his steady stride into the hold and out of sight.

This doesn't change anything, she'd told him, and a Companion knows the value of a gentle lie, but she'd never expected to employ one on herself.

And then another voice echoes in her mind, the voice of the High Priestess on Sihnon: "A Companion gives, always, small pieces of herself, parceled out to everyone she meets. Under these circumstances, it is easy to lose oneself, to become a mirror only, reflecting those around you. Be generous, be compassionate, but be wise—there must be a part of you, somewhere, that is yours alone, that no one else can touch. Lose this, and you may lose everything."

As Inara watches Serenity's engines light up, watches the Firefly's slow rise and the growing distance between them, she reaches for that center, that safe haven.

She thinks that finding it gone should be more of a surprise.


END


Translations:

fang xin – don't worry
gôu pì - bullshit
mèimei – little sister
wo ai ni – I love you
xiao mèimei – baby sister (affectionate)