Life’s Too Short- Part Twenty-three

Author's Note: Okay, NC-17, kiddies. Oh, and the song that's not really quoted but is mentioned is Immortality, by Celine Dion. PLEASE REVIEW!!!

Disclaimer: none of these characters are mine save for the evil guy.

Mal entered the shuttle warily, one hand massaging his aching head. He had his mind made up, though. He would let Inara help with the Cortex, and then he would make her leave. He would do whatever it took. He just… he had to make her safe. He had to. It was like breathing, or eating. Not something a fellow questioned.

The shuttle was dimly lit, the warm reds and golds of her wall-hangings soothing his tired eyes. Her bed was unmade, which struck him as strange. He realized that he’d never seen Inara right after she woke up. Did she usually make her bed? He’d thought she would, but maybe not. A small smile curved around his lips with the thought: perfect, elegant Inara kicking the sheets off, stretching a little, maybe bouncing once or twice on her bed to get the blood running. Sweet.

She was sitting in front of the Cortex, the rich fabric she usually draped over the screen folded loosely out of the way. Her dark hair, as rich as the thick silks she wore, fell in long ringlets from the gold band she wore around her head to keep it out of her face. There was an instant, a frozen moment in time, where Mal could do nothing but stare. From behind, her slender arms tapering to strong, competent fingers that tapped at the screen, the smooth lines of her delicate back tracing down to the hourglass bend of her waist, she was almost ethereal. The contrast of her black hair against her creamy skin and the deep purple of the shawl she wore took his breath away. Then, she turned, twisting her torso to look at him over one shoulder. Her eyes seemed huge and shadowed, one side of her face eerily lit by the Cortex screen. He couldn’t place her expression, and for another moment, their eyes met. Then, she spoke, and the spell was broken. Or maybe there hadn’t been a sp