Inara Serra (_inara) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-02-06 17:35:00 |
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Mal didn't know if these future docs had miracles up their sleeves or if Doc Tam's sudden arrival was just perfectly timed and he had a cure all along. The more he thought about it, the more he didn't really care. If there was a cure, there was a cure. Mal Reynolds had always had a certain fondness for that phrase about looking gift horses in the mouth. You take your good fortune and don't sit around asking questions about it. What he wasn't sure about was how much of who Inara was was based around her acceptance of that disease eating away at her. With it gone, was she going to go back to spending her time with a higher class of people? Get her plans back on track? Or was she going to stay the same Inara they knew, only without that hint of sadness behind her eyes that he always noticed and pretended to ignore? Well. He never was much good at guessing the right answer, so Mal tucked his work gloves into his belt, took a deep breath, and knocked gingerly on the door that he'd been standing in front of while these thoughts raced through his head. Inara’s natural assumption wouldn’t have been that it was Mal at her door, on the pure basis that he never knocked. Ever. She might not have been expecting anyone, but the news she gave the group was big enough that Inara wouldn’t have been surprised if she recieved company. She’d already visited Kaylee, and the knock wasn’t nearly as peppy as what she usually offered. Interest piqued, Inara answered the door with equal parts curiosity and wariness. She was surprised to see Mal there, but the smile she offered him wasn’t unpleasant or unhappy. “Mal. Decided to try something new for a change?” Her eyes flicked to the wood of the door and back to him before she held it open for him to enter. At first, he wasn't sure what she was referring to, then he caught the glance at the door. "Ain't my ship." Because that explained everything, of course. He nodded his thanks and stepped into the room, once again taking note of all the decorations that basically said "Inara Serra lives here." It was always the second thing he noticed when he walked into a room she was standing in. Small talk. That was what the occasion needed, right? Don't just jump right into 'So, you're cured. What's that mean for us?' He turned to face Inara and kind of wished he had a hat in his hands to fiddle with. "How you takin' all this?" Simple question, kind of vague, though. 'All this,' meaning hearing they found a cure, knowing there's a future for herself now, telling the crew... there was a lot. “Oh, that’s rich.” It was a little more like normal, so she jumped on the eyeroll and cutting reply without hesitation. Anything to get back to how things were before. Anything to avoid the topic that he clearly wanted to discuss and to get back a sense of normality again, when people would stop tiptoeing around her like she was precious cargo. “Is that what you came here to ask, Mal?” Her tone wasn’t rude, but it was a little sharp, and Inara pursed her lips. “It hasn’t settled in, yet. I’ll be sure to tell you when it does.” Mal just stood there for a moment, like he was trying to work out how he had already managed to get on her bad side. Tian xiao de, he had just come by to see how she was doing because it felt like the right thing to do. He set his face into one of his I'm Just Gonna Be Stubborn About This expressions and rocked back on his heels for a second. "Yeah, maybe I did," he answered. Not all retorts were winners. "Ain't expectin' you to feel like you got to give regular updates, Inara. Just wanted to see you-- see how you was doin' is all," he added, looking pointedly at her, daring her to comment on his little stumble in the middle of that sentence. He had never been one to sit around and walk on eggshells around her, even after he found out what was on her mind all this time, and he didn't aim to start now either. Feeling more like herself than she had in weeks, Inara crossed her arms over her chest and prepped for a fight. Or something like it. As frustrating as Mal was, it was incredibly refreshing to snipe at him again, especially knowing how much it drove him crazy when she was argumentative. She knew (now) that he liked it, but she didn’t always think that was the case when they first met, which only ever incensed her. Now, it was more of a back and forth game between the two of them. She was also more inclined to call him on his slips. “Wanted to see me or see how I was doing, Mal? Because the latter seems more likely. Or are you going to change it now to stopping by to see how Kaylee is doing? Because she’s been a dear, as excitable as you’d expect from her.” Awhile back, some kid on the street had told Mal that he was 'like the bastard son of Han Solo and Clint Eastwood.' If Mal were more up on modern culture references, he'd be throwing Yosemite Sam on top of that compilation, too, because he could just feel the steam rising from his head - and if he had a long mustache, he'd be yanking on that and stomping the ground, too. Inara just had this amazingly frustrating way of getting right up under his skin and kicking up dust like it was what she was meant for. Though, damnit, as much as he hated to admit it, he really enjoyed it. "Both, then," he said, hooking his thumbs into his belt, looking for all the world like a man who exuded confidence. He decided to ignore the comment about changing the subject to Kaylee, mainly because it would actually change the subject and he knew damn well that Kaylee was all kinds of excited and cheerful about the news. A blind and deaf man would know that. “Well, then. I’m fine. And now you’ve seen me.” Inara didn’t stay in the long dresses and sari’s - for the most part - while in New York, but the impact of her turning and her skirt swishing around her legs was no less of an impact than it would have been on Serenity. She wasn’t going to carry the conversation and was even less inclined to let him sit by and just stare at her awkwardly. She glanced at him over her shoulder, eyebrow raising in a wordless challenge, “Don’t let the door hit you on your way out.” Mal started to furrow his brow and storm out of the room, but then he remembered something Kaylee had told him. Well, most of it. That he was so dumb sometimes. The only time she'd ever even remotely opened up to him was when he'd stopped being stubborn for five minutes. That hadn't been all that hard to do, only he wasn't all too sure how to approach it. Seemed to him that bringing up her not having any more excuses would be a suicidal topic to discuss. "Now, look here," he started, the stopped and held out his hands in a peaceful palms-out gesture. "I mean, hold on a minute. I know this ain't my ship and you got every right to tell me to leave. An' if you want me to go, I will. But I'm just askin'." He raised his own eyebrows and amended that. "Politely askin' to get a few things said first." Ah, so there it was. Inara stopped mid-movement and let her arms fall to her sides before taking a breath and turning back to him. She had figured there would be some real reason for him to visit her, because Mal usually did have one even if he rarely wanted to admit it. She turned and settled down gracefully on the corner of the chaise lounge in her room, giving him an expectant look. “Fine. Please, by all means, say what you’d like.” Mal opened his mouth to talk, but then he realized he wasn't so good with stirring speeches. He wasn't even sure why his crew followed him half the gorram time. Sitting on fancy cushions and talking about feelings wasn't in his blood, even though being around Inara drove him to trying out this whole 'being civil' thing. Problem was, he made some comment about wanting to say his peace and he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Mal closed his mouth and tasted his tongue for a second, going over some words in his head while Inara just looked at him, like she knew she was going to be amused with whatever damn fool thing he was going to come up with. Which, in turn, just irritated him further. Mal squared his feet and, instead of sitting down to talk about things like 'civil' people, he bore down on where Inara was sitting, took her hand, and lifted her to her feet. "This is what I think of your fei hua about fate and what we gotta accept." Malcolm Reynolds had always been a man of action, not words - so he moved to pull Inara into a kiss. Inara had been expecting Mal to rant or snap or rail at her like he usually did, and his statement was so very Mal, but she wasn’t expecting to be pulled out of her seat and definitely wasn’t expecting to be kissed. Well, maybe there was a small part of her that was hoping he would jump to that rash decision, even if the practical side of her had been fighting it. But she was out of excuses, out of reasons to fight back, and out of the energy and desire to do so. Not when she’d been wanting this - or something like it - since they were on Serenity together. Inara’s mouth met him without any hesitation, any holding back. Their first kiss had involved an unconscious Mal and then a similarly unconscious Inara just a few moments after, so the little warning bell in the back of her mind sounded and Inara pulled away breathlessly. “Mal.” She gave it a moment’s pause, as if waiting to see if she was going to be knocked out at any moment. When nothing happened, her fingers reached up to thread through the hair at the base of his neck. “I still had hope, you Liou coe shway duh huh hoe-tze duh ur-tze. I’m just practical.” Mal raised an eyebrow when she pulled back and said his name. He wasn't too sure what to make of it until she started talking, at which point he dropped his hands down to her waist (while simultaneously noticing how unnervingly nice it felt). Inwardly, he was slapping himself for not doing that sooner. "Still feelin' practical?" he asked, tilting and moving his head for another kiss. Otherwise, he was pretty much done talking, since it'd only be a matter of time before he said something wrong and ruined the whole moment. Anything that encouraged Mal to not make an ass of himself had Inara’s full approval. Especially when it involved touching her, or kissing her. He seemed to be making a good move forward without needing her pushing, and Inara had the briefest of worries that he’d turn this into a situation they’d both regret, or ruin the moment at hand. ”Hoo-tsuh, Mal.” She tugged his head back down to nudge him even quicker in the direction she wanted this to go. |