So Now It's Best In Memory (or Four Times Inara Almost Told Mal She Loved Him And One Time She Did)
Title: So Now It's Best In Memory (or Four Times Inara Almost Told Mal She Loved Him And One Time She Did).
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity.
Characters: Mal/Inara.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 2513.
Spoilers: The entire series and the movie.
Summary: For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her, that maybe he would say those three words that she is always too terrified to say.
Author's Note: For anythingbutgrey, who asked for the five times fic. First part of the title is from Stolen Moments by Kim Addonizio. Also, I think the part in Chinese is correct, but I could be wrong.
1.
Inara spends too much time in the infirmary while everyone’s asleep in their bunks.
Mal’s been in there for a few days, despite his desire to be elsewhere; Simon told him he needed rest after being shot and nearly dying, that if he didn’t stay put, he could end up dying. Eventually, Mal caved, but it took a lot of arguing.
She likes to think that, somehow, she was able to help convince him to stay. Like always, she got involved and told him he couldn’t be so callous about his health; he needed rest to get better, and trying to be a captain would just hinder things. Zoe could handle it without him for a while; it’s not like they were going anywhere any time soon.
It was a way for Inara to care without really caring. She showed just as much concern for him as everyone else, except maybe Jayne who didn’t show feelings and Kaylee who always cared too much. She was certain that she cared more, though, she just pretended like she didn’t because it was easier than admitting the truth to a man who couldn’t really open his heart to another person.
She sits in the infirmary, next to Mal’s bed, and sometimes she takes his hand. He’s always asleep, either by choice or because of some drugs that Simon had on hand, so he never really responds. Not consciously, anyways.
There are times where she takes his warm hand in hers and his fingers curl between hers. In those moments, her heart skips a beat and she holds her breath; she fears him waking and the tension between them returning. When he sleeps, Inara can pretend like they don’t have secrets and unspoken words to circle around.
One night, when the silence seems to wrap itself around Inara’s veins, she decides to talk to him quietly. She tells him tales that she remembers from her childhood, on nights when she couldn’t sleep and the shadows scared her, with her mother stroking her hair. She doesn’t talk loud enough to wake him, just enough to chase the silence away, but it still seems to calm his features.
Without thinking, she takes hold of his hand and strokes the back of it with her thumb. She falls silent for a moment, watching his still eyelids, and suddenly it takes everything in her to not kiss him. She can feel an I love you dancing around in her mouth, threatening to break through her teeth.
Her lips part and she actually starts to say it, the “I” coming out in a shaking voice, but then Mal stirs.
She drops his hand before he actually opens his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together in a sleepy confusion. Inara offers a smile as she tries to put distance between them.
For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her, that maybe he would say those three words that she is always too terrified to say. Instead, he watches her face quietly until she can’t handle it anymore and she stands, runs her hands over the robe she had put on before leaving her shuttle.
“Just wanted to see how you were doing,” she says softly before smiling, the expression tight on her face. She turns to leave and doesn’t notice when he almost reaches out for her.
2.
He comes into her shuttle, without permission, while she’s packing up her belongings. Inara feels his presence before he clears his throat. She swears there’s a hint of nervousness in the action.
“We’ll be atmo in five,” Mal says, his boots scraping against the floor as he shifts his weight.
She gives a nod but doesn’t say anything else; the tension in the air has settled into her shoulders, her lungs, and she isn’t too sure what he expects to her to say. Her hands stay busy as she keeps her back to him, waits for him to say something else.
“Look, Inara,” he starts and she can imagine his frown as he reconsiders what he’s going to say. “I’m - well. It’s going to be awful strange without you on board.”
She glances over her shoulder then and catches his eye. Ask me to stay, then balances between her teeth, makes her tongue feel fuzzy.
She turns to face him, face completely neutral.
“I am going to miss it here,” she says softly, hoping he catches the hidden words in her sentence.
If he does, he doesn’t make it noticeable. Instead, he nods and looks to the floor, the walls, anything but her face. She wants to scream at him, to make him look at her because she doesn’t want to leave it this way. She doesn’t want to leave anything behind.
Loose ends aren’t her style.
“Well.” He looks at her for a moment. “Kaylee’s makin’ a real mess in the kitchen. Says she wants to give you a proper send off.”
Inara smiles and nods, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“That’s nice of her.” She wonders what Mal would do for her, if he were the type to make a big fuss about her leaving.
He smiles - she can’t help but want to call it a grimace - and rubs the back of his neck.
She wants to wraps herself in his arms, to tell him how much she loves him before she’s gone. She nearly works up the nerve when he looks at her again, then turns and walks out. She imagines, briefly, how uncomplicated her days will be when she’s no longer near Mal. The sudden pang of sadness that stabs her gut like a knife makes her change thought course, though.
Inara’s nearly done packing when Kaylee comes in with a recorder, tears in her eyes and a bright smile on her face.
3.
It’s been months since they last spoke.
Inara didn’t expect them to talk every night or even once a week, but it would have been nice to hear from him once after she left. He’s not the only one at fault, though, and she knows that if she really wanted to speak to Mal, she’d contact him herself.
She nearly has, repeatedly.
She gets as far as pressing the button, ready to connect with him, but then she chickens out. Instead, she goes into her client database, looks for propositions waiting for her.
Inara tries to ignore how every single one she chooses has eyes like Mal’s, or the same colour hair. Some of them were even Independence in the war; she imagines they fought alongside Mal, knew the same stories about Tracy and Zoe that Mal kept locked away behind tight lips.
They are never fair-haired or too skinny; they all have strong jaws and attitudes that take up more room than she ever thought possible. None of them are as hard to deal with as Mal, though.
She misses the tension, the hidden words and carefully avoided touches.
In the arms of other men, Inara finds herself wanting to be back on Serenity, battling the knots in her stomach and the desire to look at Mal. She misses the way he would come unannounced onto her shuttle, would watch his words around her. The way he would look at her and pause for just a fraction of a moment before telling her he didn’t care if she left, that he actually thought it was for the best.
It’s when she almost calls a client Mal - his name was Joseph - that she realizes she’s in over her head. When he leaves, she sits down to write a letter that will never be sent.
She considers how strange Mal’s name would look next to the word love, written in her own flowing cursive, a permanent stain on the stationary.
4.
No one knew she was dying. At least, no one on the ship knew. Inara had kept it that way; it was a part of her that they didn't need to see, to worry about, to know. She kept it a secret for so long that, truth be told, she nearly forgot.
Until the cough got worse, and the blood stains on the pillowcases and the towels wouldn't wash out. Then it was like she couldn't escape it, like the disease was a constant companion.
She agreed to stay on Serenity because it felt like home, more so than any other place she could imagine. Now, with her chest aching and left over blood clinging to the corners of her mouth, she wonders why. She regrets coming back, not because of how tense it can be, but because of what she's going to be putting everyone through. Her family here, floating in space; she can imagine their reactions perfectly, the way that Mal would draw more into himself but assure everyone he was fine, that it didn’t matter and the way that Kaylee would wander the halls of Serenity with too many tears in her eyes for too many days.
She lays down in bed because she's too weak to stand anymore; she's been pretending that everything's fine for days now, even while Simon (with his doctor's eye) worried over her health.
As Inara curls onto her side, clutching her stomach as the coughing grows worse, she wonders if she should've told him, if maybe he had something that could've helped. At the very least, she's certain that Simon has something that could make her forget the pain, even just a little. It's too late now, though, as she pulls a pillow to her mouth.
There's a knock at the door and then, as she tries to quiet herself, she hears Mal's voice. He never knocks.
"I'm fine," she calls out, but the words are tangled in her throat, torn apart by the rawness from her coughing.
He walks in, dressed in the first pair of pants he could find, and instantly his face fills with concern. It's the most emotion he's ever shown towards her, and it makes her want to curl into a smaller ball and disappear. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, so frail and broken.
Mal's by her side in an instant, her name like a prayer on his lips.
She watches his eyes, watches as the fear of losing yet another crew member darkens them. He brushes the hair from her temple and she wants to laugh at the irony; she'd been dying for him to touch her for so long and now here she is, being touched because she's dying. She opens her mouth to point this out (it's the end for her, the lines they never crossed before don’t’ matter anymore) but instead she coughs again.
His wrist comes away speckled in blood. For a moment, Mal's silent, worried eyes searching over the blood and then Inara’s face. Then he's calling for Simon.
She reaches for him without thinking, pulls his hand back to her.
"Mal, I -" She coughs again, harder than before. She closes her eyes, tears stinging behind her eyelids.
"The doctor'll fix you right up," he says, though she can hear the doubt without even trying. "You'll be good as new."
Love you is caught on the tip of her tongue, but she can't get anymore words out.
Simon gets there, Kaylee and River in tow, but it's too late. Mal's arms are around her, strong and warm, and she regrets everything she let slip by. She turns her head and presses her face into Mal's skin; she takes a deep breath, fills her nose with his warm scent, and then she goes limp in his arms.
5.
Mal --
It feels strange, writing this, as if you were a long lost friend.
I suppose you are, in a way.
I just needed to get this out, though you'll never read it. They say that writing letters which remain unopened, sealed forever, is supposed to be therapeutic. So far, it's mostly just confusing. I have so many thoughts in my head; I don't really know where to start.
I miss Serenity. I miss the walls, the openness of space outside the windows -- it always made me feel free, like I was flying myself. I miss the crew, too. Even you.
I would come back, if only you'd ask me. But that's not in your character -- you're too strong, too stubborn to welcome back anything that makes you feel human. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into your actions, your words. Maybe you don't care for me like everyone else does; maybe I am just a companion, a part of your ship that gives you a little more respect than people would ever give you without my presence. I don't think so, though.
I suppose the blame shouldn’t rest solely on your shoulders; I’m at fault as well. I should have spoken up before leaving Serenity, told you how I felt, that life without you would be too hard. You’re the only man I could imagine giving up the life of a companion for, and yet you’re the only man who never asked. Maybe it’s because I never fully put myself out there, never let you feel how much room you take up in my heart.
I would promise you that the next chance I get, I will tell you how I feel, but it would be a lie. To tell you would be to give up two of the biggest secrets I carry on my shoulders, and (though most would think otherwise), I do fear rejection.
I can only hope that someday, our prides will finally fall apart and we will be able to touch without pulling away, to talk without carefully thinking and rethinking our sentences.
wǒ ài nǐ ----
Inara
Mal stares at the letter that still smells just like Inara, his throat tight with emotion. He isn’t too sure how long he sits there just holding the paper, staring at her name in her fancy cursive, before Kaylee comes in.
She’s still got tears in her eyes and he wonders how one person can cry so much.
“Captain?” She steps inside tentatively, as if she fears that stepping too far will cause of all Inara’s things to disappear. “You okay?”
His eyes drift towards the paper again and he tries to figure out the correct response to her question. Everyone else is open about the pain they’re feeling, but Mal has yet to tell anyone (out loud) that he misses Inara more than he thought possible.
“Fine,” he says with a nod, his fingers folding the paper gently.
Kaylee stays for a moment longer before she realizes that Mal isn’t going to talk to her, and then she leaves quietly. He slips the paper back into the envelope and looks around Inara’s shuttle, the richness of the colours causing his heart to ache even more than it already was.
He presses the envelope to his chest, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.
“I love you, too,” Mal whispers into the emptiness, hoping that somewhere out there she’ll hear him.
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity.
Characters: Mal/Inara.
Rating: PG-13.
Word Count: 2513.
Spoilers: The entire series and the movie.
Summary: For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her, that maybe he would say those three words that she is always too terrified to say.
Author's Note: For anythingbutgrey, who asked for the five times fic. First part of the title is from Stolen Moments by Kim Addonizio. Also, I think the part in Chinese is correct, but I could be wrong.
1.
Inara spends too much time in the infirmary while everyone’s asleep in their bunks.
Mal’s been in there for a few days, despite his desire to be elsewhere; Simon told him he needed rest after being shot and nearly dying, that if he didn’t stay put, he could end up dying. Eventually, Mal caved, but it took a lot of arguing.
She likes to think that, somehow, she was able to help convince him to stay. Like always, she got involved and told him he couldn’t be so callous about his health; he needed rest to get better, and trying to be a captain would just hinder things. Zoe could handle it without him for a while; it’s not like they were going anywhere any time soon.
It was a way for Inara to care without really caring. She showed just as much concern for him as everyone else, except maybe Jayne who didn’t show feelings and Kaylee who always cared too much. She was certain that she cared more, though, she just pretended like she didn’t because it was easier than admitting the truth to a man who couldn’t really open his heart to another person.
She sits in the infirmary, next to Mal’s bed, and sometimes she takes his hand. He’s always asleep, either by choice or because of some drugs that Simon had on hand, so he never really responds. Not consciously, anyways.
There are times where she takes his warm hand in hers and his fingers curl between hers. In those moments, her heart skips a beat and she holds her breath; she fears him waking and the tension between them returning. When he sleeps, Inara can pretend like they don’t have secrets and unspoken words to circle around.
One night, when the silence seems to wrap itself around Inara’s veins, she decides to talk to him quietly. She tells him tales that she remembers from her childhood, on nights when she couldn’t sleep and the shadows scared her, with her mother stroking her hair. She doesn’t talk loud enough to wake him, just enough to chase the silence away, but it still seems to calm his features.
Without thinking, she takes hold of his hand and strokes the back of it with her thumb. She falls silent for a moment, watching his still eyelids, and suddenly it takes everything in her to not kiss him. She can feel an I love you dancing around in her mouth, threatening to break through her teeth.
Her lips part and she actually starts to say it, the “I” coming out in a shaking voice, but then Mal stirs.
She drops his hand before he actually opens his eyes, his eyebrows pulling together in a sleepy confusion. Inara offers a smile as she tries to put distance between them.
For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her, that maybe he would say those three words that she is always too terrified to say. Instead, he watches her face quietly until she can’t handle it anymore and she stands, runs her hands over the robe she had put on before leaving her shuttle.
“Just wanted to see how you were doing,” she says softly before smiling, the expression tight on her face. She turns to leave and doesn’t notice when he almost reaches out for her.
2.
He comes into her shuttle, without permission, while she’s packing up her belongings. Inara feels his presence before he clears his throat. She swears there’s a hint of nervousness in the action.
“We’ll be atmo in five,” Mal says, his boots scraping against the floor as he shifts his weight.
She gives a nod but doesn’t say anything else; the tension in the air has settled into her shoulders, her lungs, and she isn’t too sure what he expects to her to say. Her hands stay busy as she keeps her back to him, waits for him to say something else.
“Look, Inara,” he starts and she can imagine his frown as he reconsiders what he’s going to say. “I’m - well. It’s going to be awful strange without you on board.”
She glances over her shoulder then and catches his eye. Ask me to stay, then balances between her teeth, makes her tongue feel fuzzy.
She turns to face him, face completely neutral.
“I am going to miss it here,” she says softly, hoping he catches the hidden words in her sentence.
If he does, he doesn’t make it noticeable. Instead, he nods and looks to the floor, the walls, anything but her face. She wants to scream at him, to make him look at her because she doesn’t want to leave it this way. She doesn’t want to leave anything behind.
Loose ends aren’t her style.
“Well.” He looks at her for a moment. “Kaylee’s makin’ a real mess in the kitchen. Says she wants to give you a proper send off.”
Inara smiles and nods, but the smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“That’s nice of her.” She wonders what Mal would do for her, if he were the type to make a big fuss about her leaving.
He smiles - she can’t help but want to call it a grimace - and rubs the back of his neck.
She wants to wraps herself in his arms, to tell him how much she loves him before she’s gone. She nearly works up the nerve when he looks at her again, then turns and walks out. She imagines, briefly, how uncomplicated her days will be when she’s no longer near Mal. The sudden pang of sadness that stabs her gut like a knife makes her change thought course, though.
Inara’s nearly done packing when Kaylee comes in with a recorder, tears in her eyes and a bright smile on her face.
3.
It’s been months since they last spoke.
Inara didn’t expect them to talk every night or even once a week, but it would have been nice to hear from him once after she left. He’s not the only one at fault, though, and she knows that if she really wanted to speak to Mal, she’d contact him herself.
She nearly has, repeatedly.
She gets as far as pressing the button, ready to connect with him, but then she chickens out. Instead, she goes into her client database, looks for propositions waiting for her.
Inara tries to ignore how every single one she chooses has eyes like Mal’s, or the same colour hair. Some of them were even Independence in the war; she imagines they fought alongside Mal, knew the same stories about Tracy and Zoe that Mal kept locked away behind tight lips.
They are never fair-haired or too skinny; they all have strong jaws and attitudes that take up more room than she ever thought possible. None of them are as hard to deal with as Mal, though.
She misses the tension, the hidden words and carefully avoided touches.
In the arms of other men, Inara finds herself wanting to be back on Serenity, battling the knots in her stomach and the desire to look at Mal. She misses the way he would come unannounced onto her shuttle, would watch his words around her. The way he would look at her and pause for just a fraction of a moment before telling her he didn’t care if she left, that he actually thought it was for the best.
It’s when she almost calls a client Mal - his name was Joseph - that she realizes she’s in over her head. When he leaves, she sits down to write a letter that will never be sent.
She considers how strange Mal’s name would look next to the word love, written in her own flowing cursive, a permanent stain on the stationary.
4.
No one knew she was dying. At least, no one on the ship knew. Inara had kept it that way; it was a part of her that they didn't need to see, to worry about, to know. She kept it a secret for so long that, truth be told, she nearly forgot.
Until the cough got worse, and the blood stains on the pillowcases and the towels wouldn't wash out. Then it was like she couldn't escape it, like the disease was a constant companion.
She agreed to stay on Serenity because it felt like home, more so than any other place she could imagine. Now, with her chest aching and left over blood clinging to the corners of her mouth, she wonders why. She regrets coming back, not because of how tense it can be, but because of what she's going to be putting everyone through. Her family here, floating in space; she can imagine their reactions perfectly, the way that Mal would draw more into himself but assure everyone he was fine, that it didn’t matter and the way that Kaylee would wander the halls of Serenity with too many tears in her eyes for too many days.
She lays down in bed because she's too weak to stand anymore; she's been pretending that everything's fine for days now, even while Simon (with his doctor's eye) worried over her health.
As Inara curls onto her side, clutching her stomach as the coughing grows worse, she wonders if she should've told him, if maybe he had something that could've helped. At the very least, she's certain that Simon has something that could make her forget the pain, even just a little. It's too late now, though, as she pulls a pillow to her mouth.
There's a knock at the door and then, as she tries to quiet herself, she hears Mal's voice. He never knocks.
"I'm fine," she calls out, but the words are tangled in her throat, torn apart by the rawness from her coughing.
He walks in, dressed in the first pair of pants he could find, and instantly his face fills with concern. It's the most emotion he's ever shown towards her, and it makes her want to curl into a smaller ball and disappear. He wasn't supposed to see her like this, so frail and broken.
Mal's by her side in an instant, her name like a prayer on his lips.
She watches his eyes, watches as the fear of losing yet another crew member darkens them. He brushes the hair from her temple and she wants to laugh at the irony; she'd been dying for him to touch her for so long and now here she is, being touched because she's dying. She opens her mouth to point this out (it's the end for her, the lines they never crossed before don’t’ matter anymore) but instead she coughs again.
His wrist comes away speckled in blood. For a moment, Mal's silent, worried eyes searching over the blood and then Inara’s face. Then he's calling for Simon.
She reaches for him without thinking, pulls his hand back to her.
"Mal, I -" She coughs again, harder than before. She closes her eyes, tears stinging behind her eyelids.
"The doctor'll fix you right up," he says, though she can hear the doubt without even trying. "You'll be good as new."
Love you is caught on the tip of her tongue, but she can't get anymore words out.
Simon gets there, Kaylee and River in tow, but it's too late. Mal's arms are around her, strong and warm, and she regrets everything she let slip by. She turns her head and presses her face into Mal's skin; she takes a deep breath, fills her nose with his warm scent, and then she goes limp in his arms.
5.
Mal --
It feels strange, writing this, as if you were a long lost friend.
I suppose you are, in a way.
I just needed to get this out, though you'll never read it. They say that writing letters which remain unopened, sealed forever, is supposed to be therapeutic. So far, it's mostly just confusing. I have so many thoughts in my head; I don't really know where to start.
I miss Serenity. I miss the walls, the openness of space outside the windows -- it always made me feel free, like I was flying myself. I miss the crew, too. Even you.
I would come back, if only you'd ask me. But that's not in your character -- you're too strong, too stubborn to welcome back anything that makes you feel human. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into your actions, your words. Maybe you don't care for me like everyone else does; maybe I am just a companion, a part of your ship that gives you a little more respect than people would ever give you without my presence. I don't think so, though.
I suppose the blame shouldn’t rest solely on your shoulders; I’m at fault as well. I should have spoken up before leaving Serenity, told you how I felt, that life without you would be too hard. You’re the only man I could imagine giving up the life of a companion for, and yet you’re the only man who never asked. Maybe it’s because I never fully put myself out there, never let you feel how much room you take up in my heart.
I would promise you that the next chance I get, I will tell you how I feel, but it would be a lie. To tell you would be to give up two of the biggest secrets I carry on my shoulders, and (though most would think otherwise), I do fear rejection.
I can only hope that someday, our prides will finally fall apart and we will be able to touch without pulling away, to talk without carefully thinking and rethinking our sentences.
wǒ ài nǐ ----
Inara
Mal stares at the letter that still smells just like Inara, his throat tight with emotion. He isn’t too sure how long he sits there just holding the paper, staring at her name in her fancy cursive, before Kaylee comes in.
She’s still got tears in her eyes and he wonders how one person can cry so much.
“Captain?” She steps inside tentatively, as if she fears that stepping too far will cause of all Inara’s things to disappear. “You okay?”
His eyes drift towards the paper again and he tries to figure out the correct response to her question. Everyone else is open about the pain they’re feeling, but Mal has yet to tell anyone (out loud) that he misses Inara more than he thought possible.
“Fine,” he says with a nod, his fingers folding the paper gently.
Kaylee stays for a moment longer before she realizes that Mal isn’t going to talk to her, and then she leaves quietly. He slips the paper back into the envelope and looks around Inara’s shuttle, the richness of the colours causing his heart to ache even more than it already was.
He presses the envelope to his chest, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.
“I love you, too,” Mal whispers into the emptiness, hoping that somewhere out there she’ll hear him.