Inara Serra had learned young that a body couldn't depend on anyone but their own selves, and she'd learned the lesson the hard way. Eventually everyone leaves you. Eventually, everyone hurts you. Eventually everything falls apart. From the moment that cold, harsh realization had settled into her brain, she'd given up on all hopes of ever having a home. Staying in one place and wearing one face for too long just invited the heartache.

She'd been on board Serenity for too long, and she damned well knew it. She was getting fond, she was getting attached. Not just of the ship...if it were just the ship, it wouldn't be so hard. Serenity had shone so brightly through the planet side dust and grit, a noble and travel-worn lady desperate to fly, but dragged down by an ignorant fool who thought of her as nothing but a chunk of rusty metal. He didn't love her, and she wouldn't fly for him, but from the moment Inara had set foot on board the ship, she'd known...this ship would fly for her. Ships were one of the few things in the 'verse that loved you unconditionally, so long as you loved them first. It was people that slapped on conditions, and expected things you couldn't and didn't want to give. It was people that hurt you out of spite, just because they could.

She loved Serenity and Serenity kept her safe. But she was getting attached to the people that made up Serenity's crew, and that...that was a problem. A problem that had motivated her to go so far as to start looking into new positions. But as she sat in the spare shuttle and scrolled through the list on the cortex, she knew it was fair hopeless to even try. Sure...these ships would be free of charming, sweet-natured Companions, slow-witted muscle heads, chatty pilots with horrid mustaches that amused her with their persistent attempts to woo the tough-as-nails, straight-shooting first mate...free of Captains with eyes that were too purely blue to be real and saw too far into the layers of armor she piled on to keep her naked, damaged soul protected. Unfortunately, she couldn't love those ships. Not right now. Not yet.

"Looks like we're stuck together for a little while longer," she sighed, shutting off the cortex screen, and stilling for a moment...just to listen to the comforting, steady pulse of Serenity's heartbeat. "If I were ever gonna call a place home, bao bay," she remarked after she’d unfolded her legs and walked to the shuttle door, pausing to pat the wall affectionately. "I promise...it would be you."

=======================================

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in between of beautiful disaster,
And she needs someone to take her home.

Starting now, most of the entires in this journal will take place in an AU version of Firefly: Inara and Kaylee's roles have been switched. Kaylee is a bright, bubbly Companion and Inara is the wise, travel-weary engineer. Elite Muses's Mal, bigdamn_hero, and myself will be posting challenge replies in accordance with such.

That's all. Thanks for reading! :)

Ask me on some days, and I would tell you yes, most definitely yes. Too often it seems this ship is about to fall apart underneath us, or someone's trying to hunt us down and kill us, or a job goes horribly awry, or the Alliance is chasing us. Too many days, it's all of those things at once. On those days, I wonder why, *why* in the world did I not leave when I had the chance? Why oh why didn't I go back to my, as Mal calls it, 'civilized life.' 

Luckily when things settle again, I remember why I stay here...why I chose this life so many years ago, and why I am loathe to ever leave Serenity again.

I don't fit here, entirely. When Mal, Zoe and Jayne leave to finish a job, I have no place in it. Neither do I truly have a place on board, not as Kaylee and River and Simon do. I can't heal the ship, pilot the ship, or patch the crew's injuries. I'm a renter, as Mal has always said.

Despite that, my place...my place is here. My heart is here in ways it never was on Sihnon, because I never quite fit there, either. As Kaylee said to me once, that's the beauty of Serenity; she doesn't judge you, or think less of you...as long as you love her, or at the very least think of her as a home, she'll never reject you.

And there's no place I'd rather be than on this ship.


Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 260

Inara did not, typically, celebrate Yule.

Mainly because she viewed this time of year as one of two things. The first being a pagan Sabbat; the second being a Christian holiday. As Inara was neither a pagan or a Christian, she saw little reason to participate in said festivities.

But there was Kaylee–irrepressible, ineffable Kaylee. So desperate to make sure that everyone had a marvelous little time around the holiday, just like always.

And just as she'd done last year, she ended up shopping; not buying anything particularly special, of course. Sugary treats, chocolates, bottles of good wine or better-than-average whiskey; things that were harder for the crew to come by, things that Inara could manage to find for a good price, if she looked hard enough.

It was her way. She wasn't entirely certain why, but she always purchased things that would be consumed. Enjoyed, she hoped, but eaten or drank and then forgotten. She never bought trinkets or knick-knacks that would hang around as reminders of her. Perhaps it had something to do with her training. Perhaps it was just something inherent to her personality.

And she never wanted anything back in return. But this year, it seemed that was something she would simply have to get over. Kaylee gave her a stack of incense; River and Simon, a little box that River informed her was not unlike the ones that geishas of Earth-That-Was once used to store their elaborate makeups in; her gift from Zoe and Jayne was a very small, easily concealable pistol--Inara was genuinely shocked to see it when she opened the package.

But not as shocked as when Mal shoved a slim unwrapped box across the table at her.

Jayne was focused solely on his shiny new bottle of booze and equally shiny new gun cleaning kit, River off in her own little world with the abacus Kaylee had given her. Simon was pretending to be preoccupied. But Zoe and Kaylee where looking right at her, Kaylee with a giddy grin and Zoe with a knowing smirk.

Inara wished they would look away. But she swallowed the blush that threatened and calmly lifted the lid off of the box. It was even more shocking than the gun; the box contained two lacquered hair ornaments, laying neatly on top of a rectangle of tissue. Unable to help herself, she looked up at Mal in confusion and awe; he'd not only gotten her a gift, he'd gotten her a *trinket*...a bauble, something fairly pointless but pretty.

Her face flushed when she realized she'd been sitting there a second too long with her lips parted in awe. "It's...they're lovely," she breathed, picking up one of the hair sticks and turning it carefully in her hand. "Thank you...Mal." The word Captain had rose to her lips, attempting to protect her, defend her, place that aloof and distant shell around her. She beat the word back. He deserved his name as much as she deserved her own. 

"Try 'em on fer size, 'Nara!"  Kaylee chirped brightly.

Gamely Inara took the comb from her hair and slid the twin hair sticks in its place. Kaylee squealed softly in delight at the way the synthetic red stones glowed against her dark curls. Inara smiled and bowed her head modestly, and River, thank Buddha for her, deftly shifted the focus off of her by snatching up several pieces of Jayne's disassembled gun and staring at them with fascination as Jayne squawked in protest.

But amidst the brief chaos that ensued, Inara managed to catch Mal's eye and smile her more genuine, less flustered thanks.

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 606

Once I would've told you marriage was meaningless. I've seen too many married men and women seeking out the services of a Companion. Not my services, mind you. I might not have placed much faith in the sanctity of marriage, but it's a line I'm simply not willing to cross.

I truly did not have a very favorable opinion of marriage, until I met Hoban and Zoe Washburne.

They were as mismatched a couple as you could find. They are both wonderful people in very different ways...very different ways. If you were to look at them standing in a line of people, they wouldn't be the two you would pick out as a 'couple.' Serious and strong Zoe...darling, sweet, terribly amusing Wash.

They do say opposites attract. Of course I never believed this, either until I met my own opposite.

But oh, they loved each other. They loved hard, and fierce, and deep. It was a particular kind of love...one that not everyone is fortunate enough to find.

[locked]

I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be married to a man. Truly married, like Zoe and Wash; to belong body, heart and soul to another individual. To know that you, in turn, are the keeper of theirs.

It's a little...frightening, to me. Do you lose much of yourself? Zoe changed over time...so did Wash. I always thought that one *had* to change to make that kind of commitment...everything has to a compromise...right?

The truth is, I enjoy my independence.

To marry...and to marry the person who, I believe, loves me...I would have to give up my career. How much my job is so much a part of me that letting it go would mean remaking myself? How much remaking would I be willing to do?

Is it worth it? To love as deeply and torrentially as Zoe and Wash once did?

Once I would’ve said no, but now...maybe it is.

[/locked]

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 330

Clarity. More than anything else, I need clarity.

I am...in a desperate state of confusion and indecision. I've come to the crossing I've been dreading, much earlier than I intended to arrive. You see, I have done the one thing that a Companion should avoid.

I've let myself fall in love. Not with a client; I'm too...professional, for that.

I fell in love with Serenity.

I never intended for it to happen. I never thought that love would be a weakness I would let myself become afflicted with. I was disciplined. You would have been hard pressed to find a Companion more focused than I. I say this not to brag; I say this because it is--it was--a fact.

And yet looking back on my life, I can see that it's a fault I've been susceptible to all along. I think...I think part of my success as a Companion stemmed from my ability to let people into my heart, even if only a little. And I can see that since the day I arrived on board Serenity, I have allowed her crew to work their way dangerously far into my heart. It began with Kaylee, bled to Zoe and Wash, and yes, even Jayne...and eventually ended with Mal.

It's with Mal there is the most danger, because Mal demands the most from me. Unintentionally at first, but now...

I can't be what he needs. And I cannot make him see that.

And yet I fear that no matter what happens, my career is over. I've been kissed by many men, but none of them have loved me. They held an illusion. They kissed the lips of a mask. What they felt for me was infatuation at best. A strong attraction that could, I suppose, masquerade as love.

Until now.

And after that, how do you go back to pretending?

Nothing is clear anymore. Nothing is simple.

Clarity. More than anything else, I need clarity.


Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 329

Inara Serra was dreaming. She did not, of course, realize she was dreaming. Dreamers rarely do, and in truth, Inara prefers not to think too hard on the images her unconscious mind conjures up; once the realization creeps in, 'this is a dream', then the dream becames stale and sleep is less satisfying.

Inara's job affords her little sleep as it is, so she tries to enjoy what sleep she is allowed.

She's sitting in a park, waiting for someone. She doesn't know who or what she's waiting for...only she does. Or at least, when who's she's waiting for gets here, she's sure she'll know them...

It's pretty here. She's never seen trees and grass quite like this. If she was awake that would strike her as strange, but in her sleep, cobwebs are silk, leaves are gold, and everything makes perfect sense.

She hears footsteps coming down the path, and she looks up, and she smiles. "Hello there."

Inara laughed softly as Kaylee twirled around the shuttle, wearing one of Inara's slightly less fancy skirts. "Oh, 'Nara, you can't let me have this!" Kaylee exclaimed, stopping in front of a mirror and, after checking her hands once more for grease smudges, carefully smoothing the delicate red material about her thighs. "This hada have cost ya more’n’a fair amount of coin!"

It had. She remembered buying it, years ago, shortly after obtaining her full license. Looking at it now, she thought it was too short and too bright to ever wear again, but for a young, green Companion, it had been appropriate, perfect, and beautiful. "Nonsense, mei mei," Inara replied with a soft smile, carefully folding a few more items she no longer wore and adding them to a growing pile. "Someone should wear it." Her smile grew, became somewhat teasing. "Especially now that you have so many engagements to attend. Dinners, plays...romantic walks on the beach..."

Kaylee blushed and wrinkled her nose cutely. She was so happy these days, and it warmed Inara's heart immensely to see it. Kaylee had been the first--and really, the only of Serenity's crew to take Inara up on her offer of tea and conversation, an offer Inara had made shortly after she'd settled in. Kaylee had been in awe of everything about the shuttle and everything about Inara's world...Inara had watched, not without some measure of amusement, how Kaylee had kept her hands clasped behind her back, afraid to touch anything for fear of getting it dirty. What surprised Inara was how over time she herself stopped caring about Kaylee's smudged face and grease stained work clothes. How much she'd truly come to enjoy the pleasure of her company.

Kaylee was the heart of Serenity. She was Mal and Zoe's daughter, Wash and Jayne's baby sister, Simon's love, River's best friend...

And, Inara supposed, her best friend too.

Inara shook her head a little, smiling at her own silly musings, and lifted a colorful summer dress to the light. "Now this one," she declared, rising to stand behind Kaylee and hold the dress in front of her, admiring it with her in the mirror, "should fit just perfectly. This was a gift from one of my very first clients..."

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 379

A Companion can't afford to be impulsive.

Discipline. Self-control. Those are the first lessons a Companion learns. They are the first things mastered, long before the art of physical pleasure is even mentioned. A Companion who cannot control her emotions, who is not master of the most basic impulses of her body cannot truly call herself a Companion. Giving into selfish urges is a good way to end up in a less than favorable situation, especially when one is outside the safety of an Alliance controlled environment. Too many men have yet to learn the difference between a Companion and a common whore. To let oneself be impulsive simply isn't safe, and it could potentially lead to gross embarrassment.

Very few times in Inara Serra's life has she given in to impulse.

And nearly every incident in which she has, seems to revolve around Malcolm Reynolds.

When the word "widow" left Saffron's smirking little mouth, Inara panicked. Saffron was a good liar. Inara had met better, but not many. Perhaps she was able to speak it so convincingly because she was so confident that Mal would very soon be dead--and he would have, if not for the fact that whatever else Malcolm Reynolds was, he certainly put together a brilliant and able crew.

But Inara was sure he was already gone. She was convinced he'd let that little monster slip a knife between his ribs, and she flew into a panic. She ran to his quarters, nearly broke her neck trying to get down the ladder. When she saw him laying on the floor, it was all she could do to hold on to control, not to scream, not to sob.

But she couldn't keep herself from crying out his name.

"Mal! Mal Mal Mal Mal Mal?!"
 
Hearing him groan and mutter, feeling his head stir as she cradled his face in her hands brought on the sweetest relief Inara had ever felt.

"Oh, run-tse duh fwotzoo*..."

And she kissed him. She allowed herself but a split second to rationalize that he was unconscious and would never know, but even so, it was the most impulsive thing she'd ever done. All she could think of, all she could feel was that sweet, wonderful relief. Malcolm--frustrating, arrogant, ignorant, crass Malcolm--her Malcolm...was alive.

She let herself cradle his face in her hands for only a moment longer. He was still unconscious, he needed help. She ran back to the ladder, slammed her hand against a button to open the hatch door, and called out to the others.

"Get the doctor, Mal's hurt! He..."

Inara's world tilted. Suddenly there were two ladders, two hatch doors, neither of them particularly in focus. She raised a hand to touch her lips, licked her fingertips, and realized what had happened.

"Oh, you *stupid* son of a--"

Her last thought before the narcotic robbed her of consciousness was of how very right her instructors had always been: impulsive behavior was a bad idea. Very bad.

And, she wondered, just how was she going to explain this when she woke up?


Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 515


*Merciful Buddha

The majority of human beings tend to be very...free with the word 'trust.' I suppose a good way to put it is that it is much easier to use the word as noun than it is to use it as a verb. Of course, there are many different levels of trust; you may know with complete certainty that you can trust someone with a possession, or a task, but could you go so far as to trust him with your life? Or your heart? So you see, it's all relative to the person.

To me, the word itself is...commercial. It’s a business term. It's a certainty that a person will not fail you; they're dependable, reliable, and worthy of confidence. Clean, sterile little words. Then, of course there's faith, the distant cousin of trust, which is...more spiritual. More emotional, I would say, and more to do with what you see in a person than what their record of reliance and dependability shows. I think it's possible to have faith in a person but still be unable to put your full trust in them.

There are those that trust easily. Darling Kaylee...she can find something bright in almost every person she meets. Even after everything she's seen, she's still able to see the beauty in the smallest things. She gives her faith easily--too easily, if I'm to be honest. It has, on occasion, lead her to heartbreak and disappointment. Yet she remains unjaded by those experiences; if she weren't, she simply wouldn't be Kaylee.

The rest of the crew, though...they've seen far too much ugliness in the 'verse to claim the same. In the world they live in, you don't keep your friends close and your enemies closer; you stay far away from your enemies, you don't turn your back on your friends and you keep one eye on your supposed allies at all times, lest they shoot you in the side before you can manage to turn and draw. They trust themselves, and to different degrees (and admittedly in some cases, very distant degrees), they trust each other. As I said, it's business--they have to trust each other, or they’d kill each other go completely crazy never get a job done.

But as for their faith in one another? It's unshakeable. They believe in each other, all of them. Even Jayne. Even Mal.

And don't let them tell you differently. 

Trust me, I'm a Companion. It's my job to see the things people try to keep hidden.

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 422

Inara leaned against the rails of the walkway and watched with an amused smile as Jayne, Kaylee and River took on Zoe, Mal and Simon in one of their infamous games of what appeared, to the untrained eye, to be a sport. What sport it was meant to be was anyone's guess. Jayne grumbled like a five year old about being stuck with 'the ruttin' women', but not half so much as Mal complained about being saddled with Simon. With good reason. Simon proved to be an abysmal player, whereas River was light on her feet and not to mention psychic.

Zoe was almost smiling, not quite, but almost; she was only playing because Kaylee had begged her. It had been so long since Inara heard the first mate laugh, she couldn't quite recall exactly what it sounded like. There was an echo in the room that had nothing to do with the acoustics of the ships. It was the voice and the laugh of their late pilot, a blonde haired man with a penchant for plastic dinosaurs and loud, obnoxious tropical print shirts. Inara could not imagine what it was like for Zoe; trying to imagine what it would feel like if the dearest thing in the world to her was suddenly removed, the brightest spot in her life winked out as easy as one snuffs a candle flame...it was impossible. It was too much, too big and too heavy to comprehend. Zoe carried it all herself, but she didn't walk alone; she had a family walking beside her, waiting to catch her when she stumbled. The crew.

And they were a family, in conflict and in play. Jayne purposefully collided with Simon and laughed as the doctor hit the ground with a loud thud (and what was, admittedly, a rather amusing expression). Kaylee shrieked and started smacking Jayne's arm. Mal rolled his eyes and hauled Simon to his feet. Simon said something about a penalty shot. Everyone snorted at him. River laughed. It was a beautiful sound, that laughter. The true River, the real River, the River the existed before the Academy was beginning to show through brighter and more often, like slats of sunlight through window shades. It would only be a matter of time before the sun would come out forever. It was a wonderful thing to witness. River cocked her head to one side and pouted as Kaylee kissed Simon on the cheek. "Fraternizing with the enemy," she accused, and Inara couldn't help but laugh.

They were a family, and she was still trying to find her place in it. She was trying to decide if she had a place in it at all. For now, she kept a distance by choice, hovered outside the circle like a restless bird, unsure if it wished to spread wings and take flight or fold them and stay. It seemed such a simple choice; it was, in fact, anything but.

Mal tucked the ball beneath his arm and wiped the sweat from his brow. He looked up at her. She felt a funny tingle along the back of her neck, as though he were somehow reading her mind. Which was ridiculous; there stood the man who still believed she'd actually been taken in by that laughable floozy Saffron. In some ways, Mal was incredibly perceptive, but when it came to women, she was quite sure he was hopeless.

Which was why it surprised her so when shifted the ball from hand to hand, and unexpectedly tossed it up to her. She caught it easily; her reflexes were good. The ball's in your court, she couldn't help but think, balancing it between her fingers and spinning it with her thumbs.

"C'mon, 'Nara!" Kaylee called. "Toss it back in!"

Inara narrowed her eyes at Mal's challenging smirk, shrugged her wrap off and laid it aside. 

She took careful aim at the makeshift basket, and threw.

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 656

"I swear, 'Nara. I seen ya after ya just woke up and without yer makeup on an' all, but I dunno if I ever seen ya lookin'...well...green."

"Not so loud," Inara whispered, lifting her head just enough to peek over at Kaylee. "...Am I truly?"

"Well..." Kaylee exchanged a glance with Zoe and fought not to laugh. "Yeah."

Inara groaned softly and laid her head back down on the dining table. "This must be the closest one can come to dying without actually doing so."

"There's been times in my life I imagine I'd've agreed with you," Zoe smirked. "I gotta admit, I'm awful curious as to how you got yourself in this state in the first place. Never known you to be someone who don't know their limit, so it must've been one hell of a party."

"I let myself get talked into a round of 'truth and lies'," Inara admitted sheepishly. "Involving some very strong sake and some very good liars."

"Truth and lies?" Kaylee chirped in confusion.

"It's a game," Simon explained, unable to keep from smiling. "The players take turns telling two stories: one is a true story, and one is a lie. The rest of the players try to guess which is true and which is a lie, and if you're wrong, well, you have to drink a glass of sake."

Kaylee nodded absently, then started a little as the words sunk in. "...A glass? You mean...just a shot, right?"

"He means a glass," Inara whimpered. "Tah mah duh hwoon dahn, please, just kill me now."

"It's only a hangover," Simon replied with that same tight smile, giving her shoulder what was meant to be a comforting pat. "You just need sleep, and fluids."

"Bull puckey," Jayne snorted, sliding his tin cup across the table to her. "What she needs is a lil' hair of that what bit 'er. Works every time fer me."

Inara glared down at the cup suspiciously, the scent of the alcoholic contents causing her stomach to churn. "...So to cure my body's violent reaction to too much alcohol, you're suggested I drink more? Jayne, that statement makes about as much sense as 'Liquor makes you smarter'."

"Liquor does make ya smarter!" Jayne objected, glowering at her. "It works, I'm tellin' ya! Whole lot better'n any other go-se fluids'll help!"

"Might be some truth to that, which scares me t'say, considering the source," Zoe quipped, blithely ignoring the look that Jayne shot her way. "Knew a man in the war, used to work as a 'tender--swore by it, said it was the only cure he knew for the mornin' after a hard drinkin'."

Inara continued to look dubious, but picked up the cup and absently wiped the rim with her thumb. "This isn't even close to being the same caliber of alcohol I was drinking last night," she stated blandly, then held her breath and tipped the cup up drain what was left of the 'wine.' She swallowed, stared at the crew's expectant faces for a full ten seconds...then shot out of her seat and towards the kitchen, one hand clamped tightly over her mouth. 

"*Jayne!!*" Kaylee chastised, punching his arm as he laughed raucously over the sound of Inara's retching. 

"Ow, sonofa--wut?! T'ain't my fault the woman can't hold her likker. She'll fell better once th'pukin's over with, you'll see."

"What's goin' on down here?" Mal called as he sauntered into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of Kaylee's latest batch of engine-room vintage wine.

"'Nara's throwin' up in the kitchen sink 'cause o'Jayne's hangover cure," Kaylee explained sweetly.

"I'll c-clean it up!" Inara called hoarsely between retches. "I will! I p-p-promise!"

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 616

[locked from the crew of Serenity]

Hatred. That's not an emotion one should indulge often, and should never be indulged lightly on those rare occasions it applies. 'I hate you/him/her' are not words that should be tossed out hastily. Generally, I don't use them at all.

Very few people in my lifetime have I ever hated. I couldn't bring myself to hate the Operative, even after everything he'd done--in his own way, he was as much a victim of our government as River. He was what they made him to be. He'd grown up the same way I did, brainwashed into believing the Alliance wanted nothing but the best for everyone.

I couldn't bring myself to hate Jubal Early, either, but I came much closer there than I did with the Operative. Especially when you consider what he threatened Kaylee with...but again: he was what he'd been made into, and therefore worthy of some measure of pity. A small measure, but some nonetheless.

Niska, well. I suppose you could say I hate him for what he did to Mal, but I had no close contact with the man. It's difficult to use the word in association with a man you've never even met and be able to put much behind it.

And as for Saffron/Bridget/whatever her name really is, she's too pathetic to hate, boo hway-hun duh puo-foo that she is. I feel contempt towards her, but at the same time, I can't help but respect her--just a tiny bit. Until she got sloppy and tried to pull her well-honed wiles on me, she really had put on quite an impressive act.

(I could've done better, of course. But still...it was impressive.)

Hatred is a poison, one that spreads quickly and disfigures the soul. I know I said one shouldn't indulge it often, or lightly, but that's another strange and difficult thing about this black emotion: you can't always control it. Oh, you can try, but when all is said and done? It goes where it wants, when it wants, and pours out towards whomever it wants.

My deepest hatred--and my deepest guilt as a result of that hatred--pour out towards one person.

Nandi.

I never wanted to hate her, and I tried so hard not to. It's petty, it's pathetic, but it's there, and I can't stop it. I love her dearly, and I hate her.

She could've taken anything from me. Any of the worldly possession in my shuttle, I would've gladly handed over to her. But she took the one thing that, given the chance, I would've denied her. The one thing that wasn't mine, but was mine.

She took Mal. As often and as long as she could in the time they had, I suspect.

She took the only thing in this world I ever really wanted for myself, but couldn't have.

And here lies the deepest, ugliest measure of guilt I carry.

When she died...as I looked down at that grave, as I listened to one of one of Nandi's girls warble out "Amazing Grace"...right along with the sadness, I couldn't help but feel some measure of vindictive pleasure. Even as I shed tears for her, I damned her, cursed her, called her all manner of terrible names, none of which I could or would ever bring myself to say out loud.

It’s a hatred and a guilt I’ve simply had to learn how to carry and deal with. Because I don’t know that they’ll ever go away.

Some wounds cut too deeply to ever mend. And this one cut right down to the soul.

[/locked]

Muse: Inara Serra
Fandom: Firefly
Word Count: 602

Never let it be said that Inara Serra did not try her damnedest to get away from Malcolm Reynolds.

Once she'd declared to him her intent to leave, she'd done her best to find a suitable place to settle. Somewhere other than Sihnon; she couldn't go back there, though Mal suggested it once, and watched her carefully with those impassive, bruise colored eyes. She knew full well he'd asked just to see what her reaction would be, even though he knew full well she'd give away nothing, and in fact she was mildly insulted that he would even think to try.

Not Sihnon, not Persephone...nowhere Serenity would frequently travel to. And it hurt, it hurt to leave dear Kaylee, darling River, sweet Simon, stoic Zoe, kind Wash, passive Book and occasionally endearing Jayne behind. As, she imagined, it would hurt to break off a finger or a toe. But she needed it--a clean break, a swift stroke that would, hopefully, heal quick and scar little.

She needed to blot Malcolm Reynolds out of her life, completely.

She had made, she thought, a very good attempt.

But though she'd left, she'd really never left, because even though she'd stripped her shuttle of all her possessions--her beautiful trinkets, her fine silk curtains and scented candles, her incense, her satin sheets--her heart remained firmly and annoying wedged in the walls of that rickety bucket of rusty metal. She thought of Serenity daily. She prayed for each of them, for their safety, for their lives. Mal would've told her to save her prayers for someone who actually gave a damn about the blessings of some love starved, ego-centric deity and that Buddha could happily shove that incense stick right up his sacred rectum, but Inara had seen enough during the time she spent on Serenity to know that the crew needed every prayer she had in her. Your Captain Reynolds has probably went and gotten himself blown up by now, Sheydra had drawled with amusement, and Inara felt a white-hot lance of pain stab through her very soul at hearing her own fears spoken out loud.

But that had turned out not to be the way of it, for Malcolm Reynolds had, if nothing else, the luck of the devil. And fate, in it's typically strange, twisted way, had seen fit to land her right back on Serenity's doorstep.

Inara didn't know what infuriated her more: being back on board Serenity, having that arrogant scoundrel of a man pluck her up from the life she'd been leading just fine without him, thankyouverymuch...

...Or the fact that because she was here, she was finally, truly happy again.