Christmas Lights

Disclaimer: I just own the fanfiction. The characters all belong to Joss Whedon and Co. This is my first Firefly fic, and it's set after the film Serenity, which was done to tie up some loose ends in response to the way the television show ended. Kaylee tries to get Mal into the holiday spirit, and the results leave them with unexpected consequences. I 'ship for Mal/Inara, and I couldn't seem to find many stories that actually did the two of them justice. I was always so intrigued by their love/hate relationship, and well, let's face it. Nathan and Morena had fabulous chemistry. :) Hopefully I found a way to do them justice here. There is a particular reference that deals with a deleted scene from Serenity (which I firmly believe should have stayed in the movie!), and it will be pretty much self explanatory for those who have already seen it. This fic was done in response to a holiday challenge of sorts proposed to me by a very good friend of mine. :) The "texture" I used to create the art is from this site.

Translations:
fei hua = nonsense
dong-ma = understand
guai = hell

"No. The answer is no, and nothing you say is gonna convince me otherwise." Malcolm Reynolds traveled briskly through the familiar confines of Serenity, his boots clomping noisily across the floorboards with a preoccupied agenda etched in his mind, a small piece of white paper hanging rather loosely from the strong fingers of his right hand. His back was to her, and his handsome countenance was struggling to project a fairly perturbed scowl, while his blue eyes waged a similar battle in succumbing to the kindness they were often noted for. "Now don't misread me, little Kaylee. I got absolutely no quarrel with you singing carols at the top of your lungs in that bunk of yours, or tapping your feet about until your heart's content, but I will not, under any circumstances, have you turning my ship into a gorram Christmas tree. End of story."

"Aw, c'mon Capt'n, it'll be fun," Kaylee Frye insisted, as she hurried after him, fighting to match the pace of the long strides he kept. "We could use some fun, couldn't we? I mean, 'specially after what we all been through. It don't even have to be anything real fancy. We could just add a few lights over there and put the-"

"Look, we got ourselves a nice respectable job here," he abruptly cut her off, "a legitimate one, and I won't have you jeopardizing that by throwing some fei hua party. We still gotta work before we play, and drinking egg nog and telling stories ain't exactly at the top of my list right now."

"But Inara's gonna be there," she continued, as she gained ground on him, attempting her utmost best to shoot him the friendliest smile she could muster. "I bet even Zoe wouldn't mind a little cheering up. We're all supposed to be getting gifts, and some pie wouldn't be too bad neither."

"Zoe's focused on the job," Mal murmured, "and Inara would best be heading back to that training house of hers if she doesn't want to run into any complications. She hasn't had a client since we got this ship up and running again, and that don't exactly bode well for business."

"Well, don't ya think that means something?" Kaylee countered quickly, immediately shooting him a hopeful look, while she suggestively raised both eyebrows out of his frame of vision. She happily followed him up and onto the bridge, where River Tam was already seated comfortably behind the controls to their left, her gaze directed into the vast array of nothingness that lay spread out before them in the black. She turned only slightly at the sound of their conversation, and carefully pulled her bare feet up to her chest, protectively cradling and securing them with both arms while she listened.

"Yeah, it means she's gonna be behind on the rent, and it's still my shuttle," he retorted, sitting himself down in the spot previously occupied by their fallen comrade and pilot, Hoban 'Wash' Washburne, better known to the crew as Zoe's playful and ridiculously loveable husband. His collection of plastic toy dinosaurs, all of which he'd thoroughly engaged in countless world domination scenarios for pure entertainment, still lined the cluttered area as if to proudly display testament to and honor his memory. "Why are we still talking about this?"

"Christmas," she tried again.

"Look, it is how it is," Mal insisted, his tone readily projecting the smallest amount of impatience aimed at her obvious relentlessness. "We take this job, we keep flying. It's what we do, and we'll keep doing it until I say so. Have I made myself abundantly clear?"

"Job? I ain't heard about no job," Jayne Cobb's voice gruffly proclaimed. The former mercenary joined them without any extended invitation, his large hands carrying a big white plate of overlapping homemade holiday cookies, the contents nearly tumbling over and scattering hundreds of tiny crumbs right at his feet. His maroon colored t-shirt with the usual odd logo sketched across it, was already entirely composed of and littered with them, and fervently catered to his conveniently short attention span which often promoted sheer obliviousness. He clumsily took a bite out of a red star that was sloppily decorated with heaps of cream colored frosting and miniscule green sprinkles. "Wait, we got a job on Christmas?"

"We've got a meet with a fellow called Samson," Mal clarified, briefly sparing the other man a fleeting roll of his eyes and just the faintest amount of disgust in response to his overindulgent eating habits. "We're bound for Beamonde. Seems he plans to-"

"We ain't havin' no party?" Jayne complained, miserably shoveling in a round cookie dressed with powdered sugar, the remains leaving a very noticeable residue upon his neatly trimmed goatee. He brusquely swiped at it with the back of one hand, and as if suddenly remembering he actually had the uncanny ability to possess the common table manners of a gentleman, proceeded to unpresumtuously offer the plate to Mal. "Gorram it, and there was gonna be presents, too. Why we gotta fly all the way to Beamonde for, anyway?"

Mal merely pushed the plate back at him without a second glance, and instead bestowed his mechanic a moderately amused smile riddled with traces of palpable suspicion. "Kaylee, there something you ain't telling me?"

"Well, see, that's the thing, Capt'n. It's what I've been trying to-" She paused, returning the smile with one of childlike innocence, her cheerful face beaming with an unspoken sense of pride. She nonchalantly clasped her fingers together in front of her, as she happily rocked back upon her heels, her grin only growing wider. "I kinda already said everybody could just go ahead and set it all up."

He blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Inara found these pretty little ornaments at that shop in Jiangyin a couple weeks ago, and they go real nice with the tree Simon just put in the cargo bay. It ain't exactly ten feet tall, but we can work on that when the star goes up. She's not too shabby, though, and I think she'll surprise ya."

"I ain't looking for surprises. I'm looking for a crew who can do this job," he stated matter of factly. "I've got four empty crates that are gonna need filling when we reach Beaumonde in a few hours time, and you'll be there helping me haul 'em out if you wanna get paid. Dong-ma?"

"What're we fillin' 'em with?" Jayne queried, as he narrowed his eyes.

"I honestly didn't ask, but it's not exactly the first time we've been fuzzy on the details. Not even the first time we took something on last minute to help us coast by."

"Then how can you be sure it's even legitimate?" Kaylee inquired softly. "For all we know, they could be taking Serenity hostage on Christmas, and eat all our pies. I put alotta work into those, and they don't come cheap."

Mal struggled not to smirk as he envisioned the potential heist taking place in his head, fighting to maintain the front of indifference he'd put up, very nearly losing the recent battle he'd been waging against holiday spirit. Under normal circumstances, he'd have gladly participated in the festivities without complaint, but the absence of two crew members lost as a result of the impetuous judgment of the Alliance, was enough to cause him to doubt any ounce of faith he'd had left. "Take it as you like. Point is, this job goes off without a hitch, you might just get that white Christmas a mite sooner."

"We can still have the party?"

"Well, you can have your pie," he explained, "and if that includes a party, I guess I probably got no cause to stop you."

She simply threw her arms tightly around his neck, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, as she hugged him. Behind his back, she deftly gave Jayne an enthusiastic thumbs-up, her features instantaneously brightening with the secretly shared knowledge that their spur of the moment plan had met with success once it had been deliberately forced into action. "Knew there was a reason I still loved my Capt'n."

"We should be landing soon," Mal reminded her, as he got to his feet, "and I'd like to see this one run smooth. Job comes first." He began to head back the same way he'd come, throwing one last look over his shoulder as he departed, fixing her with his sharp gaze. "So how's about we make sure those crates are out and ready?"

"You got it, Capt'n."

It had been a good long while since he'd bothered contemplating where he stood with a certain Companion, especially when she'd outright refused her initial drop-off point, indubitably opting not to take leave with her girls again. It was the second time she'd gone and caught him entirely off guard since she'd been back on his boat- the first having been her sudden moment of indecision right after they'd 'patched up all the hurt,' and let Serenity return to roaming the skies she'd already staked claim to in the 'verse. He was brutally aware of how he already felt, but she was a bit more difficult to read, and he naturally chalked that up to her well-schooled background. She was disciplined in telling a man exactly what she wanted him to hear, so it was much easier for her to successfully mask her emotions when she'd routinely engaged in that particular practice for a living.

He would have been lying if he'd said he wasn't tired of dancing in circles with her, and wished to hell she'd just come clean with whatever it was she was hiding behind. He'd nearly done so himself before she'd timidly stopped him and basically confessed she'd gotten closer than she'd originally intended...thus leaving her no other alternative but to break the ties she'd formed and try to move on. God knows he'd tried to do that himself, and had inadequately wrestled with the sentiment countless times, before simply giving up and realizing it was near to impossible to achieve. The two of them were more stubborn than each of them was willing to admit, and they'd often fought to resolve the ongoing bouts of tension that emerged through exceedingly petty arguments that held very little ammunition in the end. He was guilty in the sense that he often looked forward to them, because they provided an appropriate outlet for the fire that regularly fueled their incredibly ridiculous banter.

He cautiously approached the door to her shuttle, discreetly forming and raising a fist to knock, aptly stepping back while he patiently waited for her voice to grant him entrance. He was altogether unsure of what to do with his hands, so he nervously slid each thumb through the belt loops of his pants, trying hard to feign disinterest.

"Come in," Inara Serra called out, as she gracefully rose from the bed she'd been arranging clothes upon, ardently throwing on a robe that easily hid and covered the long and revealing peach colored silk nightgown she wore on her slender frame. She promptly secured the matching sash at the waist, and her large eyes met his, silently nodding her head towards him in greeting. "Mal."

"Gotta job on Beamonde. Only but a few hours out," he started, his voice fumbling a bit, as it unintentionally rehashed what he'd just told the others, his thumbs dropping from his belt loops, and his hands ineptly finding and storing themselves inside the warm pockets of his tan jeans.

"Thank you," she informed him rather casually. "I was just looking for something to wear to Kaylee's Christmas party tonight."

"Yeah, only just heard about that not even five minutes ago."

"She didn't-"

"No, can't say as she did." He finally settled on clasping his hands loosely behind his back, as he roamed a bit further into the comfort of the shuttle she'd decorated and learned to call home, immediately noting that it didn't hold the same glamorous touches it had when she was still set on regularly taking clients and filling up her books. He was also keenly aware of the fact that she'd most likely saved up enough money to keep her in good for a fairly decent amount of time, but he couldn't quite understand why she wasn't taking advantage of the schedule the rest of the crew had been following when they'd found luck and work on other planets.

"You're upset," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. I assumed she'd already told you. I can talk to her and have her postpone it until tomorrow. I really don't think it'll hurt if she waits another day."

"Won't be necessary," he added, shaking his head. "Long as she gets the job done, it's fine. Can't see the harm in wanting to do what's right this time of year."

"Yes, of course. But it might actually help if you just go ahead and tell me why you're really here," she spoke up, as she curiously watched him pacing back and forth, a brief smile falling over her lips.

"Huh?"

"Well, I doubt it's this party, and the only other thing that comes to mind is the rent. I planned to give it to you in a couple of days, but if you need it now, it won't be a problem. Just let me-"

"It's not. The rent, I mean. I...well, I..." He was failing miserably, and he knew his actions were already starting to speak volumes regarding his current demeanor, cutting through the tough invisible shield he'd put up like a surprisingly sharp knife. "Just thought you'd be spending the holidays at the training house is all."

"I'm right where I want to be," she answered, her stunning face conceding very little in terms of her meaning. "Besides, Kaylee could use the extra help. With the way Jayne's been eating those cookies, she'll have to make at least three dozen more."

"Suppose you're right," he amended, a warm grin spreading over his visage.

"Is there anything I can do?" she volunteered then, as she picked up a small pot of tea she'd had brewing on a low table, skillfully pouring its contents into a short, round mug without a handle.

"Do?" he repeated.

"You said you had a job," she brought forth, her matching peach fingernails meticulously bringing the cup to her lips.

"You wanna...what occasions the...you ain't exactly on the payroll these days." He was very nearly at a loss for words now, and her peculiar request had admittedly left him completely floored.

"If that's a reference to the work you so frequently abhor, I honestly don't think it's any of your business," she hastily retaliated.

"I was actually referring to your crazy notion of becoming a petty thief," he pointed out plainly.

"You go where the work is. Isn't that what you-"

"Yeah, but thieving is a long way off from dressing up pretty and being all ladylike. It don't matter what idea you got stored up in that head of yours, anyway, because it's not gonna happen."

"I'm not afraid of getting dirty, Mal."

"No, I don't reckon you would be." He instantly regretted it the second he uttered it, tightly shutting his lids as he consciously diagnosed his own malicious stupidity, fully coming to terms with the proverbial ramifications of such a painfully thoughtless comment. Every time he assumed they'd gone and reached a sort of common ground, something as paltry as a single sentence would further damage the distance that was already so unbearably evident between them. It was a vicious cycle. "Inara."

"Well, I guess you've made your decision," she reasoned, her brown eyes breaking away from his, as she absentmindedly busied herself with setting her cup aside and pouring a bit more tea into it, her hands shaking a bit from his hurtful declaration. She tucked a dark, curly strand of hair behind one ear, her mouth setting itself in a firm line. "Please leave."

It would have been too easy to just comply at her behest and walk away, ineffectively putting it all behind him, but he'd always sworn to himself that he wouldn't back down from another fight. It would have helped if his terms had actually specified which kind of fight, but he was almost sure this one more than qualified and passed those muddled guidelines with flying colors. He didn't want to mess this up more than he already had, and was powerfully determined to reach some sort of compromise with her. "You trying to tell me-"

"Oh, I think we've said enough," she snapped, her own tone visibly shocking her.

"Inara, I ain't never- well, I guess I ain't never really sure where I...guai." He cleared his throat, while he reached a hand up to help stretch the tense muscles in his neck, vaguely tilting his head to the side. "You were right...about before. I never said it, but you were right."

"I'm not sure I understand." She addressed him so faintly, her voice seemed like nothing more than a feeble whisper.

He slowly let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, bracing himself for the impact he was positive would come. "Shoulda asked you to stay the first time you left."

"I..." For once in her life, she'd been rendered entirely speechless. He was openly pouring his heart out to her for a second time, and was deathly scared of it being stomped on and crushed to death, and she couldn't fathom just why she couldn't formulate a proper response. She couldn't simply go and bypass it with a rather flimsy excuse the way she had the last time, and she couldn't even use what she'd learned from her late friend Nandi as leverage. The piercing wave of silence that swept over the room was becoming excruciating, and the more she searched her soul for answers she hadn't yet been ready to confront herself with, the more it continued to dawn on her that she was hopelessly and madly in love with him.

"Inara?" He was only inches away from her now, and she could feel those blue eyes studying her face with all the warmth and intensity she'd sensed in him the day they'd first met…the same day he'd given her a tour of an unadorned shuttle she was thoroughly confident was only meant for her. She imagined it was a lot like the first time he'd caught a glimpse of Serenity, and had fallen head over heels for her without looking back. Malcolm Reynolds was a mystery, and she had wasted precious hours trying to figure him out.

"Yes?" she responded somewhat hoarsely.

"Best get ready for that Christmas party."

She could only stand there in unimpaired bafflement while he exited her shuttle, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she watched him go, unable to resist taking the opportunity to sneak a quick peek at his rather appealing backside.

It was nearly six hours later when Mal, Jayne and Zoe lugged all four crates back into the welcoming comfort of the ship, treading lightly through the brightly lit cargo bay, as they slid them warily around the tastefully decorated Christmas tree that almost succeeded in blocking the way. There was a shoddily constructed wooden table that contained various kinds of edible refreshments and drinks, and some low music played steadily on in the background, belting out the familiar chords of what was purported to be The Most Wonderful Time of the Year. A few chairs from the dining area had been arranged in no particular order, and were currently occupied with a handful of perfectly wrapped gifts with sparkling silver nametags attached to them.

"All done, Capt'n?" Kaylee came running up in a crisp white t-shirt and a pair of baggy beige overalls with a plump white snowman patch sewn on the knee, a combination of red and green ribbons threaded fondly through her long brown hair.

"Gotta make a quick stop to deliver the goods on Persephone, but...no rush," he disclosed, smiling, as he paused for just a minute to admire the revelry, effortlessly shrugging out of the worn brown coat that had rested upon his shoulders more times than he could count. "You do all that yourself, little Kaylee?"

"Sure did," she agreed, "though Simon and Inara helped with the table. Almost didn't find one big enough."

"Well, shiny."

"You gonna have something to eat?" she questioned, her expression practically beaming when Simon Tam headed over from across the room to join her, his rangy build clothed in a white button down shirt with the sleeves subtly rolled up to his elbows. A trim black vest put the finishing touches on the fairly classy ensemble, his matching pants and shoes polished to perfection, conveniently complimenting his profession exceptionally well. His brown hair had been combed and slicked back, and his reposed appearance was absent of the constant fatigue it had long been known for since he'd initially hopped aboard Serenity and gone on the run with his sister- making them both wanted fugitives in the eyes of the law.

"Not rightly sure," Mal confessed honestly.

"S'okay," she acknowledged, "but just in case you change your mind, there's plenty to go around."

"So, Doctor, how you faring with the holidays?"

Simon silently nodded in welcome to the other man, slinging an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders, while he nimbly gave her an affectionate squeeze. It was always a constant surprise to him that he and Mal were actually getting along strangely well these days, and the disagreements were somewhat few and far between, proving to be quite a fascinating contrast. "I guess it'd be redundant to ask how the job went when the Alliance no longer has you on their radar."

"That it is," he sided, "but we're good."

"Glad to hear it."

"Might need you when we get to Persephone, though," Mal confirmed. "Gotta lot to unload."

"Great. I'll...see if I can make myself available," Simon acceded.

"Wow, she's just so beautiful, isn't she? You really did a great job, Kaylee." Mal immediately turned his head at the sound of the familiar voice, his blues lending themselves to the woman who possessed it, his mouth almost dropping wide open at the sight of her. Her hair was loosely pulled up and tied back, a few stray curls surrounding her captivating profile, while a long, elegant red dress with thin straps fell comfortably over her shapely frame and left just enough to the wandering imagination. The tree wasn't the only thing that lit up the room, and if his reaction was any indication, she was probably already aware of the effect she had on him without even trying.

"Ain't she a sight for sore eyes," he remarked, not fully realizing he'd just spoken it aloud.

"Capt'n?" Kaylee asked, her lips fighting not to transpire into just the slightest of smirks.

"I meant the tree," he abruptly covered for himself, but judging from the aftermath, it was noticeably much too late.

"Sir, tree's over there," Zoe murmured, hurriedly placing a hand over her mouth, as she fought to stifle the contagious urge to laugh.

"I know where the gorram tree is. I just...you look very fine," he told Inara, averting his stare as he proceeded to load and secure the crate a few feet away into the cargo hold, making sure all four were safely tucked into the cramped space before he went and closed it up. He pulled a pair of thick padded gloves from his hands, and randomly tossed them aside, completely oblivious to the fact that she was now standing right beside him.

"Jayne told Kaylee that you're transporting Christmas toys for the children in need," she stated softly. "You just keep surprising us, don't you?"

"That was the job." He very nearly jumped a bit from her presence, but ingenuously attempted to brush off her assertion like it wasn’t of any significant importance, outright refusing to acknowledge that his past judgment had often put the crew in hot water with countless encounters of the illegal salvage variety over the years. "Don't know that it has anything to do with us directly."

"You already figured out what you were doing before you came to see me, didn't you?"

"Couldn't say. Wasn't lying to Kaylee when I told her it was legitimate, though."

"Mal."

"Didn't really ask for a memo, Inara."

"I wanted to talk to you about what you said in my shuttle," she confided, and went straight to the point, her brave facade threatening to crumble at any moment, as her arms came to rest firmly across her chest.

"You planning on staying?"

"I guess that depends on you," she divulged, and he was instantaneously reminded of the time she'd given that exact same answer back when Kaylee had been accidentally shot by Lawrence Dobson, none of them knowing whether Simon and River would continue to fly with them or be dropped off on the nearest planet that came to port. He didn’t know whether to view it as a potential opening, or a telltale sign of extreme disappointment, but he couldn’t truthfully discern brooding over what it would be like if he were to lose her to an occupation he wasn’t even sure she was altogether committed to anymore.

"There ain't nothing here for you. All is said and done, you're better off elsewhere."

"Look me in the eye and say it then," she challenged, as she stepped in closer proximity to him. "Look me in the eye and tell me you want me to go and I'll go. I'll get off on Persephone and you'll never have to- you can't even look at me, can you?"

"Don't have time for this," he muttered, right before she impulsively framed his face with her fingers and touched her lips to his in a rather gentle kiss, her brown eyes falling closed the moment skin connected with skin. She half expected him to tear himself away from her and readily deny all possible existence that she had ever taken the plunge, calling it a mindless fluke that could be unequivocally rectified. But he recklessly stunned her when he did just the opposite and avidly deepened it, his free hand gingerly placing itself upon the small of her back to draw her in, causing her to rise up on tip-toe to meet his height. His lips were warm and soft, and she just lost herself in them, her hands winding around to the back of his neck. She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss had actually felt like a kiss, and the very thought of it both delighted and terrified her.

"Well," she finally managed when they reluctantly separated, her complexion already considerably flushed from the intensity of the unanticipated gesture.

"Yeah, that, uh...well it definitely went well," he conceded, giving her a passing half smile.

"So when's it gonna be my turn?" Jayne added, as he smugly held up the mistletoe he'd just spotted and greedily grabbed from the table.

The End