A Tricky Business: Chapter 8
Jun. 3rd, 2007 06:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sickle_storiesAuthor's Note: Disclaimers and other info on Chapter 1. This is a work in progress. Many thanks to my beta wildannuette. (Wave your mouse over the Chinese for translations.) The story-arc of ATB will have various pairing subclauses (i.e. arcs), of which one is this.
The Hardest Word (Subclause 1: Mal/Inara)
Words left unspoken left us so brittle. – Depeche Mode, “Precious”
Mal heaved a sigh of relief when he walked into Serenity’s cargo bay and breathed in the familiar scent of his ship. He was more than ready to call it a day: Persephone’s cold night air had left an ache down his right leg and his head was aching something fierce from the Ng-Ka-Pei. Walking up the stairs, Mal was surprised to see a light shining down from the dining room. Figuring it was Book – the Shepherd favoured the dining area for his late night musings – Mal picked up his pace. He wasn’t in the mood for sermons.
“Mal?”
The captain cursed and looked longingly down the corridor to his quarters.
“Mal, I was hoping we could talk.” There was a rustle of clothes from the rest area as Inara stood.
“An’ I was hopin’ for a quiet lie down,” he muttered, but turned and joined Inara on the couch anyway. He accepted a cup of tea, burning his tongue on the hot liquid. He stared at the cup, surprised.
“I waited up,” Inara said by way of explanation.
Mal tried not to think about the long wait Inara had endured when Wash and Zoë had returned without him or the number of pots she must have brought to boil to ensure she greeted him with a hot cup.
“Are you alright? Your leg, you were…” Inara trailed off. Mal glanced up and met her eye for the first time that evening. She’d dressed down since dinner, he noticed, putting on a shimmering blue yukata. Her eyes, which she averted from his, were still heavily made up in gold. As she bent her head down to fill her own tea cup, her hair fell from her shoulders and hid her face.
Limping, thought Mal. I was limping. Lots of things’ll be catching up with me now. Aloud, he said, “A piece of shrapnel – Buddha statue, actually. Got it back in New Kasmir.” Though her straightened hair, Mal watched her cherry-red lips press tightly together.
He saw her lips part and press together again, seemingly incorporeal behind the inky darkness of her hair. He was so focused on her lips, wondering at their colour, the way they glistened, that he didn’t hear her speak.
Inara pushed her hair back and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in question.
“Did you hear me?” At the dazed look on Mal’s face, Inara shook her head slowly. She seemed to be considering whether to continue the conversation with Mal in such a state. “I said I was leaving.”
Mal leaned back into the couch, cradling the delicate teacup in his hands. He examined the cherry-blossom design peeking through his fingers before meeting Inara’s eyes.
“You’ve already said as much.”
She nodded and took a sip of her tea, the only sound between them the chink of the teacup as she set it back down. Her lips didn’t seem quite so soft now, or warm.
“I’ll disembark at the Laconia Skyplex. There’s a cruiser line that regularly makes port there.”
“That’s just a few days off from here,” Mal pointed out. “You think you’ll have time to set everything up ‘fore then?”
“There’s a moving company on Laconia; they’ll help me transport my belongings out of Serenity to a storage locker, until my ship comes in.”
There was an awkward silence. Mal kept his eyes on Inara, his mouth set, his face unreadable. His steady gaze seemed to fluster her. She blushed but didn’t look away
“I’ll be sailing on the Jericho Rose – if, that is, we make it there on schedule. I’ve already contacted the parties involved.”
“Not all the gorramn parties,” Mal growled. He’d been pressing Inara to tell the crew, almost daring her to make her decision final – never mind that she’d made pretty final plans with various contacts.
So far she’d been reluctant, which Mal understood. She probably wanted to spare the crew their share of grief for as long as possible. There was enough of an “imminent doom” aura with the two of them knowing without having the whole ship chiming in. Kaylee’d have a crying fit, he was sure, and Wash would be all sensitive about it. Zoë, now, she’d probably twist his arm off for not telling her earlier. Or worse, she’d give him that look, the one that said she could but not just yet. That was the worst.
He couldn’t say he was looking forward to Inara’s speech either.
The thought of it almost made Mal say something, maybe ask Inara to delay the whole goodbye scene, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. Gorram Ng-Ka-Pei.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Huh?”
Inara nodded slowly, a small frown softening her lips a bit from their razor-sharp line. She looked away from him and smoothed out her yukata. “Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’ll tell them at dinner.” With that, she stood up, accompanied by the soft rustle of her robe and the jingle of hidden jewellery.
Mal didn’t watch her leave. He’d had just about enough of that lately.
Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the delicate tea-cup in his hands. He thought about Inara waiting up for him, her sitting alone in the dining area or wandering into the kitchen to put on a fresh kettle. She’d put out her good china, he noticed, the type she kept for her clients and rarely offered him. “You’d do nothing but break it, Mal,” she’d told him once, when he’d pointed out the tea set in her shuttle.
Through the empty halls of Serenity Mal heard the echo of Inara’s shuttle door as she slid it shut. Mal sighed softly then leaned forward and, with the utmost care, set the cherry-blossom tea-cup down on the table.
He should have said something.
But it was too late, and he knew it: he’d had his chance back on Burgess’ moon. He’d almost told her then, with Nandi and her funeral song still haunting him. He’d finally soldiered up, was all set to – what did they call it? – declare his intentions, but she’d beat him to it. Her words hit him like a gut-punch and by the time he got his breath back, she was gone.
Even now, every time he saw her, when they bumped into each other in the hallway, or their hands touched as they passed bowls at dinner, he still felt the echo of that gut-punch and never got his breath back.
Mal rested his head in his hands and cursed softly. Stay, his heart whispered, but the unspoken word stuck in his throat.
She’d said it took less than a pound to break skin, but it took much less, only a few words, to break a heart.
yukata: "a Japanese summer garment. […] The yukata is a casual form of kimono that is also frequently worn after bathing at traditional Japanese inns. Though their use is not limited to after-bath wear, yukata literally means bath(ing) clothes." Wiki: Yukata
Laconia Skyplex: named after the Ancient and Modern Greek prefecture from which the adjective Laconic, as in ‘Laconic phrase / wit’, derives.
Jericho Rose: Named after John Irving’s term (“the Rose of Jericho”) in Until I Find You (2005) for a tattoo of a rose concealing labia amongst its petals (which in reality has a cruder name).
Words left unspoken left us so brittle. – Depeche Mode, “Precious”
Mal heaved a sigh of relief when he walked into Serenity’s cargo bay and breathed in the familiar scent of his ship. He was more than ready to call it a day: Persephone’s cold night air had left an ache down his right leg and his head was aching something fierce from the Ng-Ka-Pei. Walking up the stairs, Mal was surprised to see a light shining down from the dining room. Figuring it was Book – the Shepherd favoured the dining area for his late night musings – Mal picked up his pace. He wasn’t in the mood for sermons.
“Mal?”
The captain cursed and looked longingly down the corridor to his quarters.
“Mal, I was hoping we could talk.” There was a rustle of clothes from the rest area as Inara stood.
“An’ I was hopin’ for a quiet lie down,” he muttered, but turned and joined Inara on the couch anyway. He accepted a cup of tea, burning his tongue on the hot liquid. He stared at the cup, surprised.
“I waited up,” Inara said by way of explanation.
Mal tried not to think about the long wait Inara had endured when Wash and Zoë had returned without him or the number of pots she must have brought to boil to ensure she greeted him with a hot cup.
“Are you alright? Your leg, you were…” Inara trailed off. Mal glanced up and met her eye for the first time that evening. She’d dressed down since dinner, he noticed, putting on a shimmering blue yukata. Her eyes, which she averted from his, were still heavily made up in gold. As she bent her head down to fill her own tea cup, her hair fell from her shoulders and hid her face.
Limping, thought Mal. I was limping. Lots of things’ll be catching up with me now. Aloud, he said, “A piece of shrapnel – Buddha statue, actually. Got it back in New Kasmir.” Though her straightened hair, Mal watched her cherry-red lips press tightly together.
He saw her lips part and press together again, seemingly incorporeal behind the inky darkness of her hair. He was so focused on her lips, wondering at their colour, the way they glistened, that he didn’t hear her speak.
Inara pushed her hair back and looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in question.
“Did you hear me?” At the dazed look on Mal’s face, Inara shook her head slowly. She seemed to be considering whether to continue the conversation with Mal in such a state. “I said I was leaving.”
Mal leaned back into the couch, cradling the delicate teacup in his hands. He examined the cherry-blossom design peeking through his fingers before meeting Inara’s eyes.
“You’ve already said as much.”
She nodded and took a sip of her tea, the only sound between them the chink of the teacup as she set it back down. Her lips didn’t seem quite so soft now, or warm.
“I’ll disembark at the Laconia Skyplex. There’s a cruiser line that regularly makes port there.”
“That’s just a few days off from here,” Mal pointed out. “You think you’ll have time to set everything up ‘fore then?”
“There’s a moving company on Laconia; they’ll help me transport my belongings out of Serenity to a storage locker, until my ship comes in.”
There was an awkward silence. Mal kept his eyes on Inara, his mouth set, his face unreadable. His steady gaze seemed to fluster her. She blushed but didn’t look away
“I’ll be sailing on the Jericho Rose – if, that is, we make it there on schedule. I’ve already contacted the parties involved.”
“Not all the gorramn parties,” Mal growled. He’d been pressing Inara to tell the crew, almost daring her to make her decision final – never mind that she’d made pretty final plans with various contacts.
So far she’d been reluctant, which Mal understood. She probably wanted to spare the crew their share of grief for as long as possible. There was enough of an “imminent doom” aura with the two of them knowing without having the whole ship chiming in. Kaylee’d have a crying fit, he was sure, and Wash would be all sensitive about it. Zoë, now, she’d probably twist his arm off for not telling her earlier. Or worse, she’d give him that look, the one that said she could but not just yet. That was the worst.
He couldn’t say he was looking forward to Inara’s speech either.
The thought of it almost made Mal say something, maybe ask Inara to delay the whole goodbye scene, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth. Gorram Ng-Ka-Pei.
“Tomorrow night.”
“Huh?”
Inara nodded slowly, a small frown softening her lips a bit from their razor-sharp line. She looked away from him and smoothed out her yukata. “Tomorrow,” she whispered. “I’ll tell them at dinner.” With that, she stood up, accompanied by the soft rustle of her robe and the jingle of hidden jewellery.
Mal didn’t watch her leave. He’d had just about enough of that lately.
Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the delicate tea-cup in his hands. He thought about Inara waiting up for him, her sitting alone in the dining area or wandering into the kitchen to put on a fresh kettle. She’d put out her good china, he noticed, the type she kept for her clients and rarely offered him. “You’d do nothing but break it, Mal,” she’d told him once, when he’d pointed out the tea set in her shuttle.
Through the empty halls of Serenity Mal heard the echo of Inara’s shuttle door as she slid it shut. Mal sighed softly then leaned forward and, with the utmost care, set the cherry-blossom tea-cup down on the table.
He should have said something.
But it was too late, and he knew it: he’d had his chance back on Burgess’ moon. He’d almost told her then, with Nandi and her funeral song still haunting him. He’d finally soldiered up, was all set to – what did they call it? – declare his intentions, but she’d beat him to it. Her words hit him like a gut-punch and by the time he got his breath back, she was gone.
Even now, every time he saw her, when they bumped into each other in the hallway, or their hands touched as they passed bowls at dinner, he still felt the echo of that gut-punch and never got his breath back.
Mal rested his head in his hands and cursed softly. Stay, his heart whispered, but the unspoken word stuck in his throat.
She’d said it took less than a pound to break skin, but it took much less, only a few words, to break a heart.
yukata: "a Japanese summer garment. […] The yukata is a casual form of kimono that is also frequently worn after bathing at traditional Japanese inns. Though their use is not limited to after-bath wear, yukata literally means bath(ing) clothes." Wiki: Yukata
Laconia Skyplex: named after the Ancient and Modern Greek prefecture from which the adjective Laconic, as in ‘Laconic phrase / wit’, derives.
Jericho Rose: Named after John Irving’s term (“the Rose of Jericho”) in Until I Find You (2005) for a tattoo of a rose concealing labia amongst its petals (which in reality has a cruder name).
