Foraging for food (Open to all)

[Inara Serra]

Inara glided into the kitchen, looking for a little company, but most of all food. She felt like she hadn't eaten in days, then again today today had been quite busy. She managed to get a decent client and had spent the day in his company. The effects of so much travel were taking its toll. She was exhausted and loosing track of the days. She had a feeling other factors were at hand, but pushed them to the back of her mind.

As usual Inara found mostly protein in the kitchen. Not that one needed much more than the high nutritional standard food, but it was always nice when they were able to pick up a few luxuries. Like fresh fruit. What she wouldn't give for an orange or an apple. Maybe next time she was on a planet she would have to get some. Strawberries for Kaylee as well. Maybe some other things. She was feeling a need to feed not just herself at the moment, but everyone else.

In the end Inara settled on a light snack and some tea. Thinking about food seemed much more filling than thee actual act of eating. She felt the steam rise out of her cup and onto her face. Suddenly she realized how sleepy she was. What she really needed was some nonprofessional company. Someone to keep her awake, for now at least. But where was everyone. Usually at least on person was in the dining room, but today it was completely empty. She hoped they hadn't run into trouble.

She immediately thought of something else. Everything was fine. She glanced at the clock. It was much later than she had expected. No wonder she was so exhausted. Everyone else was probably asleep, or at least settled in their rooms for the night. She had spent more time away than she had thought. She sighed quietly. At least she didn't have one of the corporate jobs where she counted the minutes. She was lucky enough to be able to enjoy her work, though it had a slight tendency to cripple ones outside relationships on occasion.

[Malcolm Reynolds]

A giant yawn was poorly concealed behind his hand as Mal tried to recline his head for some much needed rest. But of course, the pillow was too flat or too lumpy, and his bed didn't sit at the right angle to be deemed comfortable enough. He was used to the bumpy ride, the shaking cups of old coffee on his sink, and he would mostly get a better few hours' sleep when he was having to tolerate all of the noise that his ship gave off. But all was silent now; they were deep in the inky black verse, free from the bustling of the worlds and the constant trying to flee or to hide your faces from Feds and the like. Could it be that he actually missed that?

He was supposed to prefer the quiet evenings, and he did of course. But recently there seemed not much to do around the ship when things were slow. Used to be, the crew could be found in the cargo bay, shoving, yelling at, and cheering on one another as the silver ball soared repeatedly into the air, mostly always never making it through the hoop that Jayne and the captain himself had hung from the ceiling of the docking bay some while back. But now it was simply suspended there, alone and abandoned, because everyone seemed to have things to do. Every one, of course, but poor ole Captain Reynolds!

He wiped the large tears from his eyes after he had managed to smother the yawn that was longer than the last that had occurred just five minutes ago. His ears were humming, his stomach was churning with the silence of Serenity. He felt trapped in his bunk, and he knew he had to get out, to go somewhere.

And so he pulled himself up the ladder into the hallway of the ship, smirking lightly at the thuds that his boots made on the metal floor of the ship that he called his home. Leaving his quarter's door opened, he cast a look behind him as he headed towards the kitchen, furrowing his brows when he noted the lights on within the room. His stomach lurched oddly when he spotted her. But still against his thoughts, yelling him to turn back around, he felt his feet skipping a little bit faster as he thudded down the stairs into the kitchen.

He was acting as though he didn't see the companion there, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as if he was in a type of trance as he headed towards his secure locker, turning the knob and purposely facing his back towards Inara Serra. He shifted some things around until he found what he was looking for, and grasped two of the apples that were left of his hoard. He then quickly paced over to the counter, took up a small knife and an empty mug and turned to the stove, where a pot lay abandoned. He could only figure it was some left over tea. Aw, why not? He'd take it. He'd take anything.

Not needing to look up as he poured the still steaming tea into his mug, he chucked one of the apples in a well-aimed arc towards the woman seated at the head of the table, making sure in his mind that it would land in her lap.

"Don't," he commanded lowly, knowing that the first word most likely to be uttered from her mouth was a thank you. he smiled up at her quickly, "just take it as if its owed to you. Makes it easier that way, don't ya think?"

He took up his mug and paced over to lean on the counter in the place where he could always be found, taking a swig of his tea before giving a slight cough and eying his drink suspiciously. "What the hell?" He spluttered.

[meh, hope it's okay. This thread seemed so lonely, so I figured I would help Inara out a little bit! If you'd rather me not post, just let me know and I'll delete. This is my first post, so I can only hope it's alright! I really didn't realize how long it would be! I just rambled!]

[Inara Serra]

Inara would have known the steps anywhere, long before the actual man entered the room. Aside form having the training to sense the mood form just about anything, it was the presence of the man that was what she sensed. She could always sense him. Inara was constantly stuck in the middle of hoping she would see him, and wishing she wouldn’t. It was a small ship though. Even her shuttle was the site of frequent invasion. As much as she liked to think, and often times hope that the shuttle was hers, the Captain would never be separated form any part of his ship completely. He couldn’t do it even if he wanted too. Not that she minded all the time. Though she spent most of her time with people, it was a different interaction when the crew entered her shuttle.

Yet, like a child there were things that she liked to keep good and hidden from her comrades. She knew that there was quite probably, nobody on the ship who didn’t have worse things to hide than herself. Yet they had embraced the lifestyle so completely. Well…Simon had had his secrets displayed in perhaps the most public of manners and still clung to society he could possibly never be a part of again. Suddenly Inara felt that she was unjustified in her thinking. It didn’t change what she wanted, but considering Simon, she felt very petty.

Though her mind continued to turn, Inara was acutely aware of Mal’s proximity. And she knew that he was well aware of her. Yet he said nothing. She knew better than to try something first. He was not in her shuttle and he was well within his rights to be there. More so than herself, when she thought about it. Then there was the tempers that were bound to flare if she were to make some comment. It was like when she wasn’t fighting with him, she hardly had anything to say. Rather, nothing she would let herself say. There was plenty she wanted to say, but couldn’t bring herself to take that risk. So she sat in the silence, staring into in to her still steaming cup. Inara was determined to keep the tense silence until he broke it. Her resolve was broken when she felt a sharp jab as an apple landed in her lap.

She rolled her eyes, though her features softened as she listened to him talk. She couldn’t quite decide if she was annoyed or flattered. He hadn’t done anything to annoy her…but it was the way they were. Always pushing each other’s buttons. She was going to remain silent until he choked over the tea. “It’s tea Mal, not poison.” She said, the exhaustion apparent in her voice. She wasn’t quite sure if she was ready for what she was getting into but she was getting into it anyways. Inara would always be there to verbally spar with Mal. It was like therapy in some ways. The therapy that wound her up, and often left her frustrated. Still, it was familiar. Comfortable. And in some ways fun. Though she would never admit it out loud, she craved this.

[Good ramble! It's a good thread for Mal/Inara interaction. ^_^]

[Malcolm Reynolds]

Mal waited until he had gotten control over his throat again to speak. What Inara had called tea had gotten a mite caught in his throat, sending him into a volley of smothered coughs as he tried to remain quiet. After all, he wasn’t the only one on this boat. The crew needed sleep too, especially after the job they had done today.

“It’s fei-oo is what it is.” He finally managed to cough out before setting the mug on the counter behind him and letting out one final “ahem” to fix his voice. “How do you drink that? Is that a part of Companion Training: you use it as torture?!” Okay, now he was just trying to get a rise out of her. He loved it when he watched her getting up into a tissy while she explained that ‘the true art of Companionship is not about something so simple as a cup of tea, it’s the ritual behind it, blah blah.’ The way she got so upset so easily was too inviting to resist, and he had a special skill at being able to get her upset easy.

He took up his apple and began cutting a wedge out of it, he glanced up and double-took when his eyes rested on her face. Something looked different about her. Of course, she was always not bad to look at, but there was something in her air that made her… different. It bothered him that he couldn’t figure it out. What was wrong with him? Normally he could pick out the details of anything if he set his mind to it. But this… The way her hair draped over her shoulder in a mess of curls, the way her fingertips wrapped around the apple he had tossed at her, the way her eyes flashed with chestnut when she happened to look up from where he happened to be lookin’ or whatnot. It confused him that he was just staring at her, as if she was some sort of goddess which had deemed him okay enough to see her. He didn’t normally think like this. Or maybe he did and this was just the first time he was taking notice of it all. He felt all spun about, and his thoughts kept on churning and he was distracted, and his breathing was different and—

He only felt the blinding pain a few second into the skin. His mind wrenched back to reality and told him something was wrong down by his hands. Glancing down almost drunkenly, he saw the blood seeping into the open wedge of the apple, dripping on the floor. His finger was flayed open and on the knife he was holding was drenched more blood. Imagine that.

“OW!” He suddenly let out after he had taken what felt like hours to understand the whole thing. He had cut himself, something he never did since he had begun to cut apples after the war...

Letting the apple slip from his slimy fingers, he heard the knife clang to the floor after it. He seized his hand and, then realizing, turned a quarter turn away from Inara, for some reason not wanting her to see how much blood was pouring out. Why was so much blood pouring out?! He bit his bottom lip until it went numb, closing his eyes tightly for a moment against the pain in his hand.

“Rag.” He choked out to no one in particular, reaching out his unhurt hand to look around for any cloth possible that he could stop the blood-flow with. And then the blood began dripping on the floor, and he knew there was no hiding it now…

[hope that’s okay, sorry it’s not as great as the other one. Yours was awesome! I could see Inara doing all of what you said! Good job, honestly! ^^ fei-oo is garbage/junk. ]

[Inara Serra]

Inara tensed up, half wanting to laugh half wanting to storm out. She knew he was trying to aggravate her more than anything. For fun…She wasn’t sure if it was fun, or just routine by now. It shifted between the two. Sometimes she would look forward to nothing more than their banter, but other times she was frustrated by it. Mal was always so…Mal….She wasn’t entirely sure there was a word to sum it up. Stubborn? Complicated? Infuriating? And then some. There were times when she wished for some sort of answer to their relationship. Inara knew all too well what it was Mal was to her but part of her refused to acknowledge it, part of her knew better and part of her was terrified of losing him. The whole idea of leaving this life again was unimaginable. There was no going back now, though at times it felt like she was going to break apart. “ My tastes, unlike yours, are refined.” She pulled her gaze up to meet his, a smile reflected in her eyes, but not her mouth. It was something she couldn’t control if she wanted to.

She didn’t hold his gaze. Not a second later she pulled her eyes to the apple in her hands. Inara turned the apple in her hands, worried of embarrassing herself if she were to eat it. Like a school girl, she wondered if somehow it would make her seem undignified…to eat in company. It was Mal. Had she been with Kaylee, Inara knew she would have already devoured most of the sweet fruit. Still, it was a place to keep her gaze. It felt like hours, though it was only seconds, but she worked up the nerve to sneak a small glance at him through her lashes. She wasn’t sure how far she was willing to take things tonight. There were always things that were off limits. Petty thief, whore….It didn’t always stop them, but on their more civil of interactions they were the things they tried to avoid.

He was looking at her in a way that made even her blush. Inara maintained a sense of modesty, despite her profession, though she was unashamed of any part of it. She was no stranger to being scrutinized, admired…loved even. Still, nobody looked at her quite like that, even if it was compromised by her own reaction. He was nothing like any of the clients she would accompany. Her reaction to him made no sense, even to herself. There was noting to be gained from it. Was there? She questioned it sometimes, toying with what ifs in her mind, though she knew that that was as close as she would ever get to something real. As a woman with as much pride as she had, and as a companion, it was simply a bad idea. She sucked in a breath, ready to question his gaze, but unsure if it was going to work when she was distracted by his sharp “OW”.

She watched him drop the apple, unsure of exactly what had happened. Then she saw the bright red blood on his fingers. As soon as the word “rag” left his mouth Inara was at the sink, getting a cloth wet. Returning to the table she took Mal’s hand in her own, trying to assess the damage. Gently, Inara ran the cloth over the cut, trying to see how bad it was. She was almost sure he wouldn’t let her keep doing this, and was just waiting for him to pull away and make some offensive remark. But she hoped not, Inara knew she was unnecessarily worried…more than anything, she liked the feel of the weight of his hand in hers.

[Thank you! You too. Seriously, if I didn't have something good to work off of my posts would be crappy. It's so nice to get these two interacting!]

[Malcolm Reynolds]

Mal let a laugh escape his lips while he was still slicing the apple. Refined. What a word. Even if it was true. Inara had always been the very meaning of that word. With her charming demeanor, her soft but strong complexion, Mal wouldn't be at all surprised if Inara was the reason the word "refined" was made up. And here he was, captain of a small ship that didn't always run as planned, with a crew of misfits all looking for some kinda escape from their pasts, and with the always-nagging voice in the back of his mind telling him he can't be defeated anymore, if only he keeps moving onward, through the inky black of no and where, to what had become known as home to him.

"Well, darlin', if you call that refined, I don't want no part  of it." his small chuckle hung in the air... He had called her darlin'... Ahem, nah, it was just something he called everybody: River, Kaylee... Jayne... He shook his head, eyes on his apple for a moment.

 He wondered how Inara could stand to be in one place for any long period of time. Though she was always mentioning in passing that, given the choice, she would settle somewhere. But not recently. He hadn't heard that little coy threat since the whole happening involving Miranda...

And then the slice came, and the blood, and he watched Inara jump up from her chair and rush to wet a fresh-like cloth under the faucet. Drunkenly, he felt her slender hands, wet and cold, wrap the rag around his wounded hand. And for a moment in time, the pain was swallowed up into a confused feeling that sent his stomach flopping around. His eyes were trained on her own eyelids, cast downward to his cut, concentrating on wiping at it. His hand was numb, he then realized. And that wasn't exactly a good sign. 

"ow." he softly protested, though he felt nothing but the churning in his stomach that almost was painful in itself. He jerked away but didn't remove his hand, not knowing why. Then he felt a slight sting, and it suddenly multiplied. 

Looking down to his hand, he noticed the slight, barely noticable blue hue his hand was giving off. But he could see the cut now, even though it was still letting out more blood. It was deeper than he had thought... 

"ow, gorram it, Inara..." he muttered to himself, knowing that was uncalled for. Her hands were actually soothing, soft on his fingers as she did her best to help. But he didn't know what else to say. She was spinning him about again, not letting him think clearly. Using her "womanly whiles" on him, as she had done countless times before. And it annoyed him something awful that that was the one thing he couldn't fight against...

[aw, thanks. This one is not as good as the others, and I'm sorry if I blocked you... Just was excited to post again... If you need me to edit, just let me know and I'll do it! ]   

[slytheringal]

Kaylee had been in the engine room most of the day and was getting rather hungry. She strode off to the galley to see what she could find, hoping to find some strawberries hiding somewhere. As she entered the galley, she noticed that she wasn't alone for she saw Inara and Mal sitting there as well.

"Oh hey Cap'n, Inara," she replied looking at Mal and at Inara examining Mal's cut, "Cap'n, what happened?"

[Inara Serra]

Inara instinctively let all pressure off of his hand at the protest. She really wasn’t one to be giving first aid of any sort, but she knew she was treading on thin ice here. If he protested and she continued, that ice would crack, and likely break. For now they weren’t Mal and Inara, she just wanted to make sure he hadn’t done any real damage to his hand. It was human decency. Nothing telling about it. She tried to convince herself of this silently as one of her hands still held his in place, while the other hovered just above, cloth at the ready.

She heard him mutter something that sounded angry and follow it with her name. Clearly she wasn’t helping. Or if she was, he didn’t want her help. Fixing a slightly cold expression on her face, She retracted her hands from his and set the cloth own on the table beside him, used side up. She could see the distinct red stain and she was instantly set back to worried. Inara was sure this wasn’t the worst mal had seen. It wasn’t the worst she had seen either, but somehow this felt more real. Nothing more than a scratch, most likely-nothing like being shot at or whatever else happened on one of his jobs. But in the middle of the night, on a silent ship, everything felt more real, to the point of being surreal. Suddenly Inara became very aware of the fact that they were alone…Until she heard a familiar, cheerful voice greet them.

Inara wasn’t sure if this relieved her or saddened her. Living for fleeting moments wasn’t something she liked doing, nor was it something she had done intentionally. But somewhere along the way, this had become part of her. Taking a second to collect herself, Inara smiled at Kaylee while she made sure, probably for the thousandth time that she was situated appropriately with regard to distance and posture from Mal. She was standing on the edge of something, and she was too scared to even look at what might be on the other side.

Did the others see it too? She hid well, but not that well. And if anyone knew her well enough…Inara feared her feelings were painfully obvious. Desperate to get her thoughts away from Mal, she brightened her expression and turned to Kaylee. “I didn’t realize you were awake mei-mei. There’s some tea if you’d like.” Inara shot a teasing look at Mal at the word ‘tea’. Traces of tension still hung in the air and Inara had no intention of involving Kaylee in any of it. The poor girl wouldn’t even know what hit her if she became involved in all of that.

Perhaps she was just being dramatic, paranoid, over-sensitive, or some combination of the three, but it was enough. This was not a client, and in real life there were inhibitions. Especially in the company of others. Kaylee was such a sweet girl, and though by no means a child, Inara always felt terribly protective of the girl. They all did really. Kaylee was probably at least half the reason they were all still together. Though, it was hard sometimes, balancing her work and whatever else she chose to do. It wasn’t unheard of for companions to be very solitary outside of work. After all, the job was to have a social life and make people believe that it was her only life. Inara had never lied to a client, but she could make them feel the illusion. Sometimes it was hard for even her to tell the difference.

((OOC: Sorry, not my best work, but I just wanted to get something up for you guys. Things should be better in a few weeks at worst, when I'm done with school-but hopefully sooner. ^_^))

[Malcolm Reynolds]

Now Mal had done it. He could see the look on her face when he had let slip those blunt words and followed by silence made everything worse. And then she felt her damp, slim -soft-- hands slip away from grasping his and with it he felt that worm squirm inside his stomach. Annoying? Yeah, you could say that. Course you could say worser things too, but that's beside the point now ain't it? 

He opened his mouth to say somethin but once and again no words came to mind. How could she do that to you?! One look at her could send any half mindful thing you wanna say right out your mouth and throw it into the black around them never to be seen again. Probably why he didn't take her on any business negotiations. Too bothersome, too much trouble, too much mixed emotions to keep his head well and on ground with the rest of him. And what was with that smile he could never read?! You catch a sight of it and when you next come to she's already turning away and you've not a register on what just happened, not to mention what the sphincter o'hell she meant by what she just said!...what was he thinkin about again? Oh yeah, the situation in front of his burning eyes, his bleeding hand, the red cloth on the table, and that look on her face...

"didn't mean nothin..." he muttered quickly before drawing in a quick (and a little too loud) sniff. "jus' it hurts like hell's all. You're helping... 'think." yep that oughta do it! 

Voices started to clash together in his head. He was staring at her, blinking too often to appear right normal, more than likely looking like a complete sha zi while she seemed to be keeping her cool. She musta had a freaky ability to do that. Send a buzz through his ears, rattle up his body like nothin else. Not to mention distract him from what his original thoughts were. Wasn't he just thinking about this one tiny second ago? Shiny now he was talkin himself in circles. What was he gonna say just a second ago when she stole the words? He remembered it being a mite important, something that just needed to be said...

"you look shinier..." ah that's what it was!...wait, had he just said that out loud or thought it? Oh go-se he had said it!! Can't go back now. "I mean...prettier I guess -- without all the get-up. D-don't get me wrong you're as pretty as a picture when it's on..." he made circlular motions with his good hand around his face, indicating (or trying his level best to) the make up she wore on a daily basis that was part of her -line of work. He didn't think he'd ever seen her with all of it off her face. And now, being this close, late at night, quiet ship, he finally could spot the woman behind the mask. And God was that woman right simply...real pretty. "but I'd think this one suits you better..." he trailed off, awkwardly clearing his throat, praying to anything and everything she'd say something to lighten what he'd just let out. Why'd he have to be so stupid?! Sha zi, sha zi, sha zi!! he repeated what seemed to be the word of the evening over and over in his head, wanting to just have the ship swallow him up and spit him right out into the Black right now. But 'spose not ev'ryone gets there way in this [miserable] life. 

Before she could answer though, or so it seemed, a sweet cheery voice was heard by the kitchen door, shattering the silence into a million and one painful pieces. He jolted, starting again when he moved his hand, which gave off a numbing throb. 

"Kaylee darlin' care to not give your ole captain a heart attack till I so say?" he blurted out before listening to Inara's voice setting the ground for what they were to act like while the sunny mechanic was in the room. He directed a nice awkward smirk at Inara at the mention of tea, that derned worm squirming in his stomach again. 

"aw it's nothin, little one. Inara got a mite carried away when she wanted the last apple... Shouldn't've given her a knife I know that now." his eye twitched --better known as an accidental wink-- towards Inara after this statement. It felt all kindsa odd to be light and cheery after the last few moments that seemed to make everything go further than ever somethin had happened to go before. But he 'sposed that's the way him and Inara had to work, or had the talent to. There was always this unspoken oddity (couldn't rightly think of a proper word) between 'em, and it never made sense to either involved, at least he reckoned. But would it ever be un-unspoken? More than likely that was a fat and simple no. Sometimes things that were inside were always made to stay that way. That was what kept him going for now at least...

"whatcha doin' up so late little one? Serenity a mite antsy?" he leaned in to examine his hand as he addressed Kaylee, furrowing his brows as he bit back anger at watching the continuous bloodflow that never seemed to stop. His head spun around, but that might've been because he heard Inara give a soft sigh, and he felt her exhaled breath tousle his hair ever so gently...Get yourself together sha zi! the voice called out in his mind, ignored for the countless time that night. 

[feel soo soo bad it's taken me so long to post!! But at least I've got one up now, whether is rubbish or not. Sorry for it's rubbish-ness! yours was brilliant Inara! And gotta love Kaylee!]