Title: All This Time

Summary: Post BDM Inara is helping with jobs and not all is well.

Author: Bashipforever

Prompt: Stages of Love Through the Five Senses: Touch

 

He walked in her shuttle without knocking, as he always did. “Nara, Doc said you hadn’t been by to see him yet. There a reason why?”

 

“It’s a scratch, Mal. There’s no need to bother Simon,” she informed him, her voice cool.

 

“Ain’t a bother, it’s his job. Want you to go down and see him,” Mal told her, his thumbs hooked in his suspenders.

 

“And I don’t want to go see him. I’m a big girl, Mal. I don’t need anyone taking care of me,” she snapped.

 

“That was obvious from the way you got shot,” he snapped back.

 

“And how many times have you been shot?” Inara countered, standing up. Her eyes met his in a fiery glare.

 

“That’s not the point, ‘Nara,” he answered gruffly.  “M’worried ‘bout you.” The last was said very quietly.

 

Inara sighed softly. She couldn’t argue with him when he did that. “Really. It’s a scratch, barely even a graze. Look,” She slid her robe off her shoulder, exposing her upper arm and the graze there. She’d already treated it.

 

“Might scar.” His voice was quiet and full of regret at the idea. He reached out and ran a thumb just under the wound.  He heard her quick intake of breath and his eyes snapped up to hers.  His fingers curled around her arm.

 

She could feel the heat radiating from Mal’s touch. It raced up her skin, burned down to her bones and smoldered there.  She opened her mouth to say something, something that would make it easier to pull away or to cast him off. The words refused to come.

 

He knew she was about to speak, to break this spider silk thread binding them in the moment. His entire being bucked at the idea of that and he acted on instinct, pulling her closer, enveloping her in his body and stopping her words with his lips.

 

She resisted for a moment, surprised she could even do that, then she wound her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair of their own accord.  Mal didn’t just crumble her resistance. That would have been too easy and too typical. He blew her resistance to pieces, to dust to nothingness.

 

His hands smoothed down her back, dragging the robe with them until it pooled at her waist. He touched her the way he touched Serenity and that was her undoing.

 

He broke the kiss, leaving them both panting. She mewled softly and pulled herself close to him again. His hands went to her upper arms and he pushed her away, studying her. He nodded after a moment then leaned in and placed a butterfly soft kiss against her lips.

 

“S’worth doin’, s’worth taking it slow,” he whispered against her lips and then stepped away. He was across the shuttle and through the door before she had a chance to catch her breath.

 

She stared at the shuttle door, waiting for him to reappear until it became clear he wasn’t going to. Finally she pulled her robe back around her, shook her head and sat down on the couch.

 

Thousands of men and she’d never had one pull away. She bit her bottom lip and half laughed.  All of this time, and Malcom Reynolds remained a mystery.