badinlatin | Mal-Inara. "Is this a wedding or not?"

Mal does meet Inara's gaze, jaw vaguely throbbing for a moment. Inara didn't pack too much of a punch.

The hurt isn't physical.

The effect of seeing Inara sobbing is really only seen in the washed-out change of his eyes as he levels his voice and utters a quiet, "Quite."

Inara takes a deep, shuddering breath and tries to control her tears. She wipes her face with her hands, then looks up at Mal.

"Did you ever wonder how I knew about this ceremony, Mal? It probably never occurred to you that I might have been involved in one before."

She looks down at her damp hands, taking a few more deep breaths.

Mal's still trying to keep an even keel with things. He's willing to listen; he's not willing to give up a lot of ground though.

"I don't assume things, Inara. I would rather you tell me straight.

"I'm used to havin' secrets."

"So am I, Mal. Especially about this." She has a bit of her skirt in her hands and twists it tightly. "I haven't talked about this in a very long time...since I left Sihnon."

She lets the implications of that statement sink in for a moment, twisting her skirt into an even tighter rope.

Mal breathes out raggedly.

He really is not sure of anything to say.

Only that he doesn't want to say anything, just let her talk.

"There was a man, a very wealthy, very handsome young man living on Sihnon. I was working my way up the Guild ladder, in line for Temple Priestess, a very high honor. We were introduced at a ball thrown by the Guild - it seemed his family and mine had known each other for years, though we had never met. It seemed perfect - he began as a customer, and things progressed from there. I began to care for him very deeply, in spite of the warnings from my training mistresses and close aquaintance. Soon, he proposed a union - me as his personal Companion. And I was thrilled to accept."

Inara speaks all of this very softly, still looking down at her lap. She is afraid to look at Mal, afraid to see the expression on his face.

Paper flowers and stones and pictures

There is a very discernable crack in Mal's stoicism he's trying to cling to during all this.

But Inara doesn't see it. Good.

Inara continues. "Things seemed wonderful. I was living with him at his home, spending every moment looking after his needs, doting on him." A note of bitterness slips into her voice. "After a few months, I came to realize that I was deeply in love with him...but that he had no such feelings for me. I was just a Companion, a plaything - and I caught him with another Companion, in our home, in our bed."

The muscles along Mal's jawline tighten with this confidence.

Out of the million responses he could try, he chooses a somber, "What did you do?"

Inara looks up at him for the first time.

"I challenged him to a duel, of course."

Wash would be proud of the headtilting, Mal thinks.

"Huh."

He's not trying to be pejorative, he's just a bit lost.

Inara gives a bitter half laugh.

"Well, you aren't the only one here with an over-developed sense of honor. He was shocked, society was shocked. The Guild tried to talk me out of it, but I wouldn't listen. I think I went a little crazy." She looks down at her hands again.

"We met out on the green that morning and he tried to apologize, to tell me that he never realized my feelings. I never said a word, just raised my sword. And I killed him."

Atherton Wing, for some damned ungodly reason, is the first thing that pops into his head. Fuck that.

Mal hasn't tried to touch Inara through the entire conversation, save one brief kiss in greeting.

He now lays one hand in her lap, across hers that already rest there, and says nothing.

Inara recoils slightly, then moves her hand to cover his. She still can't look at his face.

"I can't imagine what you must be thinking of me right now."

Mal squeezes his eyes closed before speaking, exhaling before opening them again.

"Did you think you needed forgiveness from me?"

Inara pauses a moment, staring at their hands. "No. I think I needed to forgive myself. And I'm not sure I can do that."

We were brave like soldiers
"You have to try. If I have to try, you have to try."
I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now
"Talkin' on it's a start, I would think."
Just let me hold you while you're falling apart.
A long, awkward silence. "I've killed. For all different kinds o' reasons, even. You can't...We can't be in the past anymore, you know."

We.

"I know." Fresh tears fall onto their hands. She still can't look up at him.

Mal raises his hand from on top of hers, using it to gently move her head to his shoulder.

She turns her face to his shoulder and sobs, letting all of the feelings she's kept locked up for so long escape. His shirt quickly grows damp, but she doesn't move, just clutches his hand as she cries.

Mal is very happy right now.

Does that seem right to you?

She told him something. Finally.

For her to have at last spoken of it...his heart's not as heavy, anymore.

He can hope that it'll feel the same way for her, eventually.

Her sobs gradually calm down into an occasional hiccup and she raises her head, wiping her face. She squeezes Mal's hand, unsure of what to say.

Slowly...very slowly, Mal lets the corners of his mouth twitch themselves into a smile.

"Think ya might want to think on somethin' happy for a spell? At least...somethin' I hope is happy, for ya."

Inara smiles down at their hands. It's a watery smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"And what would that be?"

"The details, o' course. Pretty stuff. Always thought womenfolk liked to plan wedd--ceremonies."

Yup. That part didn't go away.

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