Hey, hey! Early update party! :D This chapter is being posted now because A) I've been on a roll with this story as of late (whooo!) and B) I'm about to head back to school (boooo) and thus updates may be delayed while I get into the swing of the semester.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CAUGHT

"Compromised." That was the word Moran had used. It just about captured it.

Anger clouded Mal's head, heartbeat pounding in his ears. He paced in the foyer, jaw clenched, trying to slow his breath. This was the last thing he needed.

He needed to be focused on his mission. He needed to be a bullet. But right then, he was a wildfire in a dry forest. Uncontained, roiling.

Almost as soon as Inara got up onstage, Mal had bolted. That'd been part of his plan all along, to wait until everyone's attention was occupied, and then slip away. But more than that, it was a relief to escape the smothering air, thick with Councilor Zhi's words. Mal couldn't bear to look at her, "the jewel in the crown of House Madrassa," all gleam and glitter in her golden dress.

He had even known there was a Companion school nearby. He heard about it in passing, months before. He'd never thought to make the connection.

You deserve this, he thought bitterly. He should have known. Companions were trained to make trusting fools of their clients, to pretend they cared. They lied on instinct. They breathed lies like air.

Mal shut his eyes. You deserve this.

He shook his head. He couldn't give space to any of that in his mind, not then. He shoved it all below the surface, as he set to work. Quick and careful. In and out, no complications.

He pressed the thin plastic strip that held Zhi's thumbprint to his own thumb. The combination of the warmth of his skin, and the correct print pattern, unlocked the door. So far, so good. Mal slipped into the study.

In the center of the room stood a handsome desk of dark, gleaming wood. Its surface was clean, except for a framed capture in the corner, of Inara and the Councilor. Mal started jerking open drawers.

"Zāogāo," he swore through gritted teeth. "Where is it?"

The last drawer he tried was wide and shallow, just below the surface of the desk. Mal tugged at it. It was locked. A tiny antique-style lock, the kind that opened to a key.

He chewed his lip. It was too much to hope the key was somewhere in the study. No doubt Zhi carried it with him.

Luckily, Mal had picked his fair share of locks throughout his misspent youth.

All he needed was something small and thin, about the length of his thumb, that could be bent. He found it in an old-fashioned pen, sitting on the desk. He took the pen apart, and removed a thin strip of metal from inside.

Every passing second pricked the back of his neck.

At last, the lock gave way. The drawer slid open. Mal murmured, "Oh thank you, merciful Lord," almost unthinking.

The tablet lay nestled inside a velvet and leather case. Mal pulled it out. He retrieved the flash from an inner pocket of his uniform jacket, and plugged it into the side of the tablet. The flash was equipped with software to hack into the tablet's security, and make a copy of its contents.

A progress bar appeared. It crept forward. Below the bar appeared a blinking message that displayed how long until completion. One minute… 45 seconds…

Not bad. Mal would be out of there in no time.

The bar filled up, and more words popped onto the screen. Access granted. Preparing to download files. Another progress bar came up. Downloading. 4 minutes 17 seconds…

Mal groaned. He set the tablet down on the desk, and braced his hands on either side.

His eyes flickered to the frame in the corner. He picked it up. The capture began to move, coming alive from a black-and-white still, to full color.

The captures his superiors showed him of Inara and Councilor Zhi, way back at that first debriefing, had all been staged, stiff and ceremonial. This one was different. Inara looked younger, her face rounder, maybe 15 or 16 years old, wearing a traditional red wrap dress. She and her father were dancing. He twirled her around, and she looked up at him, laughing, eyes sparkling. It was a short capture, no more than five seconds long.

Mal watched it play. Over and over.

Inside the tiny frame, Mal saw it all clearly. For the first time, he understood.

This was her world. This was how she had been raised. In the traditional reds worn in public by the highest of the elite, before their debut into society. She'd been told from birth that the 'Verse belonged to her. It was ingrained in her to consider someone like Mal as less-than. A servant, a thing, there for her pleasure and nothing more. It wasn't even her fault, really.

She had never thought to do anything but toy with him, from the very first time she'd come down to the barn, with that healing salve. Mal had known it, then.

At some point along the way, he'd forgotten.

It didn't really matter, the reason why. A bet with her friends. Boredom. Maybe she'd wanted to have one fling, before she was locked into a lifetime of faked, transactional romance.

All that mattered was now he knew. He knew the truth. He could throw out every piece of himself that she'd touched, and start over.

A faint rumble of applause seeped through the door, from across the foyer.

Mal picked up the tablet. The bar on the screen inched forward. 1 minute 43 seconds remaining… He rapped his fingers on its side. "C'mon, c'mon…"

"Mal?"

He shut his eyes, and let out a breath. Of course. Cold acceptance spread through him. Slowly, he turned around.

Inara shut the door behind her. She stared.

She truly was beautiful. Underneath all the layers of frippery and decoration, she shone with a light that was only hers. Mal let himself think it, because it didn't matter.

She had found him, and he'd failed.

"I saw the door was unlocked... What are you doing in here?" she asked, voice faint.

She looked to the tablet, then back up to Mal's face. "Wait." Her breath quickened, chest rising and falling, in panic. "Are you…" She stopped. Her hand lifted to her mouth, as though she might be sick.

Mal was submerged in a wonderful, numbing calm.

"Go ahead, finish that thought," he said lightly. "Am I what? A zhǎo sǐ rebel spy? Independent scum? You have a variety of colorful options. Take your pick."

"Please, stop." She gulped air, and pressed her fingers to her temples. "I'm trying- I'm trying to understand." She blinked at him. "You've been… this whole time?"

"No, I went to a rally last week and joined up on a whim," Mal mocked. "Yes, this whole time."

If he hadn't been numb, the hurt in her eyes would have broken him.

"But then- everything you've done, everything… it was all so you could get to my father." Her eyes filled, shining. "It was all a lie."

Mal tilted his head. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you think you were the only one who could play that game?"

A shift lurched through her. She drew up her shoulders, face hardening. "You can't possibly be comparing the fact that I didn't tell you I'm a Companion-in-training, to- to…" She threw out her hands. "To this."

He crossed his arms. "You're right. There's no comparison. I lied for a reason. For a cause. I even felt pretty guilty about it for a while. Well, not anymore." Mal shook his head. "Gotta hand it to 'ya. Claiming the moral high ground when your own father is planning to murder millions of people. My people."

"That is not my fault." Inara's voice rose, then dropped again, rough and unsettled, "I didn't have any idea until last night-"

"No. 'Course not. But I seem to recall a part of the Councilor's little speech back there. Something about your service to the Great Alliance. That's what you'll do, right?" Mal's voice harshened, painful in his throat. "You'll perform your service, under their supervision, their control. Just the way they like it."

"Stop it," Inara hissed. "Don't lecture me on something you know nothing about. The Guild stands apart, Companions have complete autonomy-"

Mal huffed a laugh. "Stands apart, huh? Y'know, that's the problem with you Coreworlders. You're too close to see things clearly. You don't have the perspective I do."

"Oh please, enlighten me."

"Ain't no difference between the Guild and the government that allows it to exist. You go work in one of them establishments, you'll be working for the Alliance. And people will be dyin', in my hometown and thousands like it, while you're givin' chuī gong to some rich and pretty Parliament aide-"

"Enough!" Mal was half-surprised to see tears glistening on her cheeks. "That's enough," she repeated, quiet.

"Yeah. I reckon it is." He dropped his eyes, mouth hard. "You can call your father, now."

"That's what you expect from me? You think I want to see you arrested?"

He scowled. "Don't pretend you care about me." Some of the calm started to slip away. His cheeks warmed. "Not now I know what you are."

"And what is that?" A sob warbled her words. "Someone who made a mistake?"

"No. That ain't it at all." He struggled to hold firm. She ain't cryin' 'cause she's sorry she did it. Just sorry she got caught. "You were very intentional. Very… precise, in the exercise of your art. You had your fun with me, and you got exactly what you wanted."

She wiped under her eyes, and spat, "Well, that would make us even, then. Wouldn't it."

"Even, maybe. But not equal. Any second, you can run cryin' to your daddy, and he'll disappear this little problem for you, just like that."

She shot him a look, incredulous. "You honestly think there wouldn't be consequences for me, if I did?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why would there be?"

"I broke the rules for you, Mal. If it came to light that we- that we were… that we spent time alone, I'd be expelled from House Madrassa. I'd forfeit any chance of receiving my Companion license." Her eyes filled again. "I would lose everything."

Mal shrugged. "Maybe you'll have to go into politics, after all."

For a long moment, Inara stared at nothing, her hands tight at her sides. Mal listened, as she steadied her breath.

Even now, a part of him knew this was likely the last time he'd ever see her. So he took in everything he could. The cadence of her breathing. The shape of her mouth, lips slightly parted. The perfect wholeness of her, which he'd known pressed up against him, and never would again.

In the silence, he almost broke. He almost apologized. The words rose on his tongue, burning him.

In the end, she spoke first. Her voice was bare and empty.

"I'm not going to call my father. I won't condemn you. I won't help you. I'll simply leave this room, and leave you-" she faltered, for half a breath. "Leave you behind me." She met his eyes. "Whether you believe it or not, I hope you succeed in your mission."

Mal gave a slight bow. The words were out, like acid in his mouth, before he could stop them. "Then allow me to wish you all the best in your career."

Another swell of applause echoed from the ballroom. Inara didn't look at him. Her throat tensed as she swallowed. She turned, and left, with a delicate swish of her cape.

Mal stood staring at the space she had filled. A golden imprint behind his eyes when he blinked.

He turned back to the tablet. Download complete.

He tugged the flash out of the slot, tucked it back inside his jacket. He replaced everything just like he'd found it, as much as he could. In the end he couldn't get the pen back together, and pocketed the whole thing, hoping Zhi would assume he lost it.

He slipped out of the study, used Zhi's thumbprint to lock it again, and tried to leave behind everything in that hateful room. He'd done the job, he told himself.

That was all that mattered.

translations:

Zāogāo - Damn, dammit

zhǎo sǐ - looking to die, asking for trouble

chuī gong - blowjob (lit. 'blow service')

Alright, I know things look bleak... and they are. And it's going to get worse before it gets better. But it will get better. Promise.

Now, here's where I make the usual pitch, asking for any feedback - but I just want to reiterate that hearing anything from you lovely readers makes my whole day. If you're reading this, right now, and thinking to yourself "Oh, she doesn't mean me, she wouldn't care what I think," then think again, because I really do care. Even if it's just two words, I want to hear them.

And now, back to packing... wish me luck. :| See you in Chapter 22!