A.N.: And after a many a month of writer’s block, here is one of two sequels to Defining Moments, my first fic! This one is the fluffier version of what happened at the end of my other story (emphasis on the ‘er’ as angst seems to be my calling). Mal/Inara. Not mine, I just play with them.

A special thanks to my amazing roommate beta and everyone who reviewed last time! You keep me inspired!

Reviews are like alpaca wool: they make me feel all warm and fuzzy!

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A Hint of Uncertainty

There weren’t many things that drove Malcolm Reynolds to speechlessness.

But the sight of the last whisper of his soul being swathed in blue silks and bathed in several hundred flowers made him forget the meaning of words.

It wasn’t so much the ethereal looking scene made possible by a sudden explosion of a cart peddling roses and the loud crash that caught his attention, but the small gun that was being returned to its leather holster through the high (and extremely revealing) slit in Inara’s silky blue dress that provided a nice view of her tanned thigh. His mouth lolled open in what was probably an extremely dumb-founded manner.

There was just something about Inara and firearms that seemed to make his heart leap to his throat and his thoughts bodily ripped from his mind.

Inara bent down to pick up the bag of money that the vendor had thrown at her, allowing Mal a spectacular view of her very revealing dress. He swallowed hard. Perhaps bodily was not a good adverb to be thinking about at this juncture. Especially since he was distinctly aware of her slightly amused glance and that Jayne was looking the way Jayne usually looked and just begging for a slap to the back of the head for his pains.

“Aw, Mal, no harm in lookin’. Just touchin’ ain’t free.”

No it certainly wasn’t. His ability to touch her had come at a high price paid in full in blood, regret, and tears. Nothing like getting shot through self-sacrifice to get those pesky feelings out in the open. Not that he had ret