Title: Secrets of the Past

Pairing: Mal/Inara, Simon/Kaylee

Rating: R

Timeline: Post-BDM

Summary: With the crew still reeling from the loss of Book and Wash, everyone needs to regroup. Unfortunately for Inara, a family emergency forces her back to Sihnon where she is forced to confront even more distressing news.

A/N: This is another of those fics that's been languishing on my hard drive for a few years. It is multi-chapter and is more heavily Mal/Inara than most of my others. I'll post the chapters fairly quickly since it's all done. Enjoy!

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Chapter 1

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Inara walked through the ship in her slipper-shod feet, the gentle hum of the spinning engine comforting her in ways she had never thought possible. Inara had been raised on a Central planet, surrounded by every luxury man could afford, and yet, she had found peace and belonging on an outdated tramp freighter, with an eclectic crew and an at times infuriating and adorable captain.

Smiling slightly at the thought of Malcolm Reynolds, Inara paused in the dining room, taking in the space with a knowing eye. The stenciling on the wall by the galley was Kaylee's touch, of course, as warm and homey as the girl who had painted it. There was the large wooden table where she had sat down for meals, enjoying conversation and laughter far into the night. As she resumed walking, her hands glided over the backs of the chairs, resting for a second on the two that would be empty from now on.

Shivering slightly, she pulled her robe more snugly about her shoulders and headed for the bridge. She had suspected that's where Mal would be. It was no secret to anyone on board that he was barely sleeping, instead choosing to spend his nights sitting up in the dark, staring at the stars. Inara had asked Simon just the other day if there might be something the young doctor could prescribe for the man, but with a quick shake of his head, Simon informed her he had already tried and been rebuffed.

Of course, this did not surprise Inara in the slightest. Mal was fiercely proud and while she knew that his body still needed rest in order to recover from the plethora of injuries the Operative had saddled him with, now that he was no longer under twenty-four hour medical surveillance, his conscience was dictating his sleeping patterns, as well as his eating ones. She had watched him pick at his plate all through dinner, watched as he'd barely said more than a few sentences to the rest of them, before rising swiftly and leaving the room.

It had only been two months since Miranda and Inara was still grieving, just as Mal was. But she knew that it went deeper than that for him. She knew that his time in Serenity Valley, when he'd been surrounded by dying men who had entrusted their lives to him, had scarred him deeply. She also knew that he'd sworn several times to never be in such a situation again. And yet he was.

He'd allowed himself to make friends, build a family, as ragtag as it may be, and now, he'd allowed two of them to die. No one else thought of it this way, least of all Zoe who, out of all of them, had the most right. But Mal thought that way and Inara wished she knew how to convince him otherwise.

Ascending the few steps to the bridge, she rested her hand against the bulkhead, taking in the back of Mal's head as he stared out the canopy before him. Hesitating, Inara swallowed thickly. There were so many things she wanted to tell him, so many things she'd been dying to say since he'd come charging to her rescue at the training house. But every time she thought she might have a chance, Inara found her courage failing and the moment would again pass in silence. Most of her reticence, she was sure, was because of Mal. Inara knew that they meant more to each other than just captain and crew; she'd never been a part of his crew to begin with. But their relationship had never been easy and had become civil only very recently.

However, when Inara was alone in her shuttle, on the nights she felt the most vulnerable, she would think about Mal and all he meant to her; all he could mean to her. She would think about Simon and Kaylee and how ridiculously happy her two friends were since they had finally decided to be together. Inara was thrilled for her mei mei, if anyone in the 'verse deserved to be happy it was Kaylee; but Inara also secretly wished she could be happy too. And she had a sneaking suspicion that being with Mal, as more than a friend, more than a tenant, might be the key to that elusive elation.

"Go 'way, Albatross." Mal's harsh voice pulled her from her musings and Inara took another step onto the bridge as he added, "I ain't goin' to bed, so stop tryin' to spook me."

Smiling slightly at the thought of River doing her best to chase the captain from his own cockpit, she cleared her throat softly and told him, "It's not River, Mal."

Swiveling quickly, his blue eyes so hollow now, took in her form with a bit of surprise, before settling again into blankness. As it became apparent he would not speak, Inara moved towards him and leaned against the console facing him. "Although, remind me to thank her next time I see her." As he viewed her quizzically, she explained, "Despite the outcome, anyone who's trying to get you to sleep deserves a medal in my book."

Snorting with a hint of laughter, Mal's eyes drifted back to the console before him and a tense silence permeated the air. Inara hated this most of all. She hated that she was unable to reach him now. He wouldn't even pick a fight with her. And when she had tried to pick a fight with him, it had ended very badly. Feeling more trepidation mounting, Inara did her best to push it aside. Reaching out a hand, she rested it to his shoulder, not surprised by the shocked look her fixed her with. Holding her ground, she smiled softly and asked, "How are you, Mal? Really."

"Jus' shiny, 'Nara," he grunted, moving swiftly and disrupting her touch. Turning abruptly he headed off the bridge and Inara followed him, determined to not let him off the hook so easily.

"Mal." She called to him as he quickened his pace, trying to keep her voice down so she wouldn't awake the others. As he reached the galley, she hissed, "Mal, wait."

"What?" He whirled on her so quickly, Inara halted in mid-step and almost fell over. Getting into her face, he asked hotly, "What, 'Nara? What do you wan'?"

Working her mouth for several seconds no sound came out and Inara found her insides quivering at the hard look in his eyes. He was staring at her intently, the hollowness she'd seen in his gaze only moments before replaced with fierceness. It wasn't anger, not really, but it wasn't joy either and Inara struggled to regain her voice.

Obviously tired of waiting, Mal headed into the kitchen, opening a few of the cupboards and banging them shut loudly until he found what he wanted. Roughly grabbing a tin cup from the shelf, he tromped over to the table and sat heavily in his normal seat, his back to her, as he poured a full glass of some kind of alcohol. Taking a sip, he winced as it burned down his throat and told her, "If'n you're jus' gonna stand there, you can go. I don't need a babysitter."

His condescension set Inara on edge. Regaining use of her vocal cords, she moved to his side and snatched the cup from him, the whiskey splashing from the cup and staining her robe. "Hey!" he yelled, scrambling to take the mug back. Holding it out of his reach, she told him, "You don't need a babysitter, Mal, but you do need a good kick in the pi gu."

Sitting back with his arms across his chest, Mal eyed her skeptically and asked sarcastically, "Is this the part where you get me to talk about my feelings?"

Frowning at him harshly, Inara retorted, "No, Mal that would actually require you to have some."

Cocking an eyebrow at her quick and poignant retort, Mal held her gaze steady for another minute. The tension was easing out of her, he could tell by the way her hand loosened at her side, no longer clutching the edge of her robe. Also, her eyes had stopped blazing. It was a look Mal was familiar with, he had caused it often enough, but now, those huge brown eyes with flecks of amber simply regarded him with pity and compassion, two emotions he could not take right now.

"Did ya need somethin', 'Nara?" he asked tiredly, rising again and moving to get another cup.

With a sigh, she sank slowly into her usual seat at his left hand and waited until he returned. Pouring himself another glass, he raised it to her and toasted. "To Wash and Book."

Nodding once, Inara clinked his glass and murmured, "To Wash and Book," before taking a tentative sip. Doing her best not to gag, her eyes watered as the warm liquid burned a trail down to her tummy and then pooled there.

They drank together in silence for a few more moments, and Inara felt her head swimming quickly from the alcohol she'd imbibed. She normally had a much higher tolerance, but it was obvious that this bottle of moonshine had been brewed to take the edge off just about anything – including death.

She caught Mal staring at her. She had felt her cheeks flushing hot and had assumed it to be the drink, but as soon as she'd glanced to his face, she'd caught the intense gaze of those blue eyes and felt her entire body blush from the scrutiny. Quickly returning her eyes to her cup, she waited until the count of ten and when she again looked to him, he was no longer looking to her.

Slightly disappointed, she rose slowly, doing her best to stay steady and told him quietly, "I should go to bed."

Turning to go, she paused as she felt his rough hand wrap around her wrist. Looking back to him, Inara fought a gasp as she noted the depth of emotion in his eyes. "Didya need somethin', 'Nara?" he asked again.

She fought the urge to kiss him, fought it with every fiber of her being. It hadn't been why she'd sought him out in the first place, but at this moment staring into those impossibly blue eyes and feeling the warmth of his hand over hers, she suddenly wanted to kiss him and never let go.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "Yes, I did, but it can wait." She tried to leave again, but Mal stopped her with another tug on her wrist. Rising, he moved around the table to stand before her and asked, "What is it?"

He was so close, she could feel the heat from his body and Inara resisted the urge to take in a deep breath of his manly smell. That was something else she ruminated on, late at night in her shuttle – how warm and comforting Mal's presence was. She was not easily swayed by men and their charms, it was considered a weakness in her profession, but this man could be washing dishes and Inara would still feel her heart flutter.

"I was …" She faltered at first, her mind now swimming from the alcohol and his nearness. Swallowing hard, she forced the words out. "I was hoping we could stop by the training house."

With a dejected sigh, Mal whispered, "You're goin' back."

Puzzled by his reaction, Inara told him, "Well, yes, of course. I need to-"

Stepping away from her, Mal waved away her explanation. "I know, I know. You got work to do. Got girls to train." Falling heavily into his chair, Mal reached for the whiskey again and this time drank it straight from the bottle.

Realizing his misinterpretation, Inara moved towards him and sat again, squeezing his hand with her own. "No, Mal. I don't want to go back forever." Like a kid at Christmas, his eyes lit up at this statement and he again looked to her with a bit of hope. Smiling at the childlike expression, she explained, "I just want to go and pick up my things. I'm running out of clothes."

Relief covering his face instantly, Mal let out a heavy sigh and smiled, just a little. "Yer things, right. Sure, 'Nara, we can do that. I'll have River alter our course in the mornin'."

Smiling to him, she rose again and said, "Thank you, Mal."

He nodded once and held her gaze and Inara again found herself fighting the urge to swoon. What had this man done to her? Taking a step back, she murmured, "Good night."

"Night, 'Nara," Mal answered, his voice having dropped an octave which caused a small tremor to race down her spine.

She was almost out the door when a thought occurred to her. Taking a chance, she turned back to him, not really surprised to see his eyes still on her. "Mal?" Waiting a beat, she said, "I know you don't want to talk about it, but if you ever decide you need to, you know where to find me."

Swallowing thickly, he nodded once and Inara left him alone.

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It all happened so fast. One minute, Simon was searching for his medical bag and the next he was falling hard onto the deck, dark red blood seeping from his stomach; his life literally ebbing away. And Kaylee, helpless and immobilized by the Reaver's dart had simply watched … watched as Simon struggled to breathe, watched as Inara tried to staunch the blood flow, watched as River sprinted out into the melee, sacrificing herself for all of them.

Sitting up abruptly, Kaylee was panting heavily as the dream receded. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she jumped slightly as she felt a light touch to her shoulder and turned to meet Simon's concerned gaze. Smiling weakly, she murmured, "Sorry. Din't mean to wake ya."

Returning her smile, Simon sat up beside her and pushed a strand of damp hair behind her ear. Leaving his hand to rest against her cheek, he asked quietly, "Another dream?"

Biting her lip as her heart again raced at the memory, Kaylee could only nod. Noting her distress as her already wide eyes got wider, Simon quickly hugged her to him, his arms encircling her and holding her tight. Wrapping her arms around him in return, she let out a heavy sigh and burrowed even further into his strong chest. "Sorry," she murmured again, her small voice muffled.

Pressing a kiss to her temple, Simon told her, "You don't have to be sorry, Kaylee." Gently easing down with her, Simon kept her firmly against his side, fixing the blankets to cover their naked forms as he felt her shiver slightly. Kissing her forehead, Simon whispered, "It's all going to be all right."

Nodding once, Kaylee kept her ear pressed to his chest, listening to the rhythmic sound of his heart beat. Sighing softly, she cuddled into him as his hand gently drifted through her hair and down her arm, over and over again to soothe her. Doing her best to rid her mind of the dream, she waited another few seconds and then tilted her face up to look at him. Not surprisingly, he was already looking at her, his blue eyes tired, but alert to whatever she might need. Smiling softly, she slid up his side and kissed him, long and deep. Simon returned the kiss, his hands weaving through her thick hair as he held her lips to his.

Parting for air, Kaylee whispered, "I honestly din't ever think we'd get here, Simon." Trailing a light hand down his cheek, she outlined his lips with her finger, not at all surprised when Simon captured it in his mouth and sucked on it lightly before pulling her back down to him and kissing her again. Shifting so she was now on top of him, she heard him groan as her hips rolled over his hardening erection and she grinned wickedly. "But I'm sure glad we are," she told him, whispering this last as she again lowered her mouth to his.

Simon kissed her back passionately, more than agreeing with her realization. He had honestly never thought he'd be this lucky, never thought he'd meet someone like Kaylee, let alone be loved by someone so amazing, but he was. And he was in love with her; he was lost in her sunny smile and warm touch and the way she so obviously loved him. And that was why Simon couldn't allow her to continue burying all the memories that kept waking her up in the middle of the night. Her reaction to the nightmare was always the same: She would awaken, sweaty, panting and frightened and allow Simon to hold her for only a moment, before she inevitably turned to him with that wicked grin and had her way with him. At first he hadn't at all been concerned; Kaylee was an incredible lover and Simon found himself more emboldened in her presence. But as the first week of dreaming had turned to two and now three, Simon knew Kaylee needed to deal.

Hating to do it, Simon placed his hands to her shoulders and pushed her back slightly so he could see her face. Still grinning that devilish grin that made Simon's groin throb, she tried to nip playfully at his lower lip and pouted when he kept a firm hold of her. "Kaylee, we don't have to do this."

Frowning at him slightly, she shimmied down his body, causing his eyes to roll back into his head as her flushed skin passed over every inch of him. "Who said anythin' 'bout havin' to?" she questioned, pausing for a moment until she knew he was again looking before wrapping a hand around his hard length and pulling gently. As Simon again moaned, gripping the sheets at his side for purchase, she added huskily, "I wanna."

Simon tried to speak again, tried to tell her that she didn't need to hide her fears by making love to him, that it was okay to be upset, but her hands and mouth were soon everywhere and all he could do was give in to the desire and want he felt burning in his blood.

They could always talk in the morning.

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Mal strode onto the bridge, his head pounding from the rot gut whiskey he'd foolishly imbibed the night before. Tugging his suspenders over his shoulders, he did his best to stand straight. Addressing his pilot, he said, "River, I'm gonna need-"

"Already done, Captain Daddy," the young reader told him cheerfully, her fingers dancing across the console like a birds on a breeze. Swiveling in her chair, she told him, "Changed course about three hours ago. We should be to the training house in a week."

Frowning, Mal scolded, "You should wait for orders, lil' one. I am still the captain o' this boat." He turned to go, deciding that yelling at the girl would only make his head hurt worse when her small voice again reached him.

"Captain still needs a mate."

Freezing in mid-step, Mal took a deep breath before turning back to her. Stepping onto the bridge he asked in a low tone, "What're ya talkin' 'bout, River? I already got a mate, name o' Zoe, I believe you two have met."

Returning his frown with a fierce one of her own, River stood and twirled around him, causing his already spinning head to whirl about. "Not that kind of mate," she sing-songed, hiding a giggle at the annoyed look all over his face. "A soul mate."

"River, are you goin' crazy again?" Mal risked a glance to her and instantly regretted it as his already aching head and churning gut wrenched more violently as she refused to stop moving. "'Cause, I'm gonna tell Simon if'n you are."

Stopping before him, River placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself up to peck him lightly on the cheek. "No crazier than you," she told him and then was gone, bounding down the hallway and towards the galley, humming gaily.

Mal stood still for several moments after she left in an effort to stop the room from spinning. Why had he drunk that battery acid? Oh right, because he'd been in a world of hurt and then Inara had swung by, adding insult to injury. Sitting heavily in the pilot's seat River had just vacated, Mal looked back out at the stars, trying to recall his interaction with the Companion from the night before. He seemed to remember yelling at her, which wasn't all that unusual and staring at her, again not that odd … but he also remembered that she'd smelled like roses; that was new. He'd only been close enough a handful of times to inhale her sweetness and last night he had again.

Praying he hadn't done something foolish in getting out of or into that position, Mal rose and figured that if he had, he'd be getting quite the cold shoulder at the breakfast table.

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Zoe entered the cargo bay on a mission and she would not be deterred, even though every fiber of her being was threatening to turn tail and run. Forcing the panic away, she approached Jayne as he breathed heavily, forcing the weights up over his chest and down again. Waiting until he'd dropped the bar into the cradle, she asked quietly, "Can I join you?"

Sitting up and wiping at his sweaty face with a rag that had seen better days, Jayne eyed her for a moment and shrugged. "Sure," he told her gruffly. Rising off the bench, he wiped it off with the same filthy rag and Zoe walked forward, settling herself down.

As she reached back and wrapped her hands around the bar, Jayne stopped her. "Whoa there, Zoe, let me take some weight offa that first."

Shaking her head, Zoe told him firmly, "I can do it."

Placing both hands on the bar, Jayne's eyes darkened as he looked down at her. "No. Ya can't." Scowling at him, Zoe held his stare, her eyes flashing with anger at the perceived insult. Dropping her hands from the bar, she rose and turned to face him. "Fine," she bit out, and then turned on her heel, ready to storm away.

Cursing silently, Jayne threw his towel to the floor and hurried after her, meeting her just by the door to the common room. Grabbing her elbow, he whirled her around and asked, "What the hell was that about?"

"I think I would know whether or not I could lift weights, Jayne," she told him hotly, her eyes still burning with rage. Poking him sharply in the chest with one finger, she added, "And I certainly don't need your permission to lift."

"You sure as hell do considerin' I bought that set with my own cashy money," the big man yelled back. He knew that everyone on board was walking on egg shells around Zoe and in truth, Jayne had been too. But her behavior at the moment, while equal parts baffling and infuriating, was uncalled for. "An' it ain't just about the weights. I've been watchin' you, Zoe. You've done everythin' you can think of in the past few weeks to get dead, an' I ain't gonna pretend no more." Her eyes blazing at him with a warning he would not heed, Jayne told her, "I ain't gonna watch you try an' join Wash in an early grave."

Smack! The sound of her hand slapping against his cheek reverberated through the bay and Jayne bit his tongue to keep from crying out. Damn she was strong. Rubbing at his jaw, he met her hard gaze again, recognizing a challenge when he saw one.

Stepping back, he motioned to the center of the empty bay and asked, "You wanna go, lady?"

"That's the best idea I've heard all day," she retorted hotly, moving towards the center of the room and removing her leather vest in the process. She was now in a tight-fitting t-shirt and cargo pants and Jayne shook his head hard to loosen the image of how sexy she was from his brain. As she removed her gun and belt, Jayne doing the same, neither of them noticed Inara appear on the catwalks above. Watching in horror as the two crewmen circled each other, she rushed from the room in search of Mal.

Zoe was oblivious to anything at that moment other than her enemy. He wasn't an enemy, not really. Jayne was many things, but he was also her crew mate and Zoe knew that under normal circumstances she never would have considered taking him on in a fight, let alone starting one with him. But she was at the end of her rope, slipping further into a depression she could see no way out of and she would take any chance to escape that darkness for good.

Zoe began with a few sharp jabs that Jayne easily parried. How the hell had he managed to get into this? He hadn't been looking for trouble, although Jayne Cobb rarely, if ever, was looking for trouble and yet it found him all the same. Now, he was mired in a fight with a grieving widow and he felt even worse than he had a few minutes ago. He knew Zoe was hurting, Jayne had seen plenty of people grieve before and knew what it looked like, and while Zoe was tough as nails, no one was strong enough to lose a husband and then keep going like nothing had happened.

"It's gonna take time, Zoe," he told her, surprised that he'd spoken aloud.

Apparently, so was she. Striking at him again, this time she managed to connect with his shoulder and Jayne had to fight the urge to hit her back. If he hurt her, Mal would kill him. "Shut it, Jayne," she growled, her eyes still dancing with a feral hunger.

"I know it hurts, but you gotta let it." Jayne jumped back as she swung hard at him, barely missing a swift punch to his gut. That could have hurt. "The only way to make it better is to live through it."

With a barely contained yell, Zoe charged him, refusing to listen to anymore of his trite advice. Beating her fists about his face and chest, Jayne let her land a few punches, doing his best to avoid any serious injury. She tackled him, throwing all of her weight into the move and they fell hard to the deck, Zoe on top of him. Screaming at him incoherently, Jayne watched as she began to unravel, and the sight made his heart hurt.

Mal and Inara arrived back inside then, Simon and Kaylee following close behind. They met River on the catwalk, the young woman standing just over the fighting couple, her head cocked to the side. As Mal swore under his breath and moved to end the fight, River placed a hand to his arm and told him quietly, "Have to let her do this, Captain."

Studying her with wild eyes, Mal made a move to pass her again, only this time, River stood directly in his path. "She lost her soul mate. Would give anything to have him back." Glancing to the pair as Jayne had finally managed to roll over and pin Zoe, she looked back to Mal and said, "And yet, you won't even acknowledge yours."

Staring at her for another second, Mal rushed down the stairs to the cargo bay floor. River turned to watch him go, her eyes back on the scene below. Zoe's entire body was shaking now, with rage and grief and pain and Jayne had let her up, sitting back on his haunches and panting slightly at the exertion.

Mal reached his best friend's side and reached out a hand to her shoulder which she quickly shrugged off. "Zo, you all right?" he asked quietly, shooting Jayne an angry gaze.

Nodding once, the widow rose slowly and dusted off her pants. Moving with measured steps towards where her gun and vest were, she picked both of them up and headed back for the exit. Mal's eyes followed her the entire time, his mind raging with his inability to help her. Why couldn't he help her? Why did Wash have to die?

Swallowing thickly past the lump in his throat, he moved to follow her, calling softly, "Zo?"

Raising a hand, she refused to turn and face him, deeply ashamed of her behavior. "I'm fine, sir," she said stiffly and then she was gone.

Mal stood still for a moment and then whirled on Jayne, easily pinning him against the closest wall. "What the hell were you thinkin'?" he screamed, his face turning red as his displaced anger finally found an outlet.

"She picked a fight with me, Mal," Jayne yelled back, pushing the man away roughly. "An' if you ask me, I think it did her some good."

Clenching his fist, Mal was ready to land a punch to Jayne's smug face when a hand stopped him. "Mal, don't." It was Inara's voice, low and soothing, her hand that had stayed his arm. Turning to face her, he was still seething with pent-up anger. Holding her gaze for a second, he stormed off in one direction, Jayne going in the other. Inara sighed heavily, dropping her gaze to the decking before slowly making her way back to her shuttle.

By the time she reached the catwalk, Simon and Kaylee were both gone, but River was still there, continuing to stare at the now empty room as though something else was happening down there that only she could see.

Approaching her cautiously, Inara asked, "River, sweetie? Are you all right?"

"Will make a promise," the young woman said cryptically. She began to sway to unheard music, closing her eyes as she became caught up in the dance. As Inara was about to again ask if she needed anything, River looked to her and smiled. "Will make a promise that he'll keep."

Moving away on impossibly light feet, Inara watched the girl twirl down the steps and around the bay below in awe for several moments before finally retreating to her shuttle.

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