Sleep Cycles

Mal couldn’t sleep. He felt like he could sleep for a week straight he was so tired but actual sleep wouldn’t come, so he laid awake in his bed staring up at the heavy cloth hanging from his ceiling instead, trying to remember how it had gotten up there in the first place. He knew Inara was responsible for the bit of frippery; nobody else would have thought to hang bolts of cloth from a gorram ceiling. It wasn't to his taste but it was an easy enough thing to ignore so he usually did. A bit too well apparently because here was, actually trying to remember when and how it had gotten into his bunk, without success.

Irritated that he couldn’t pin down the exact moment his space had become invaded made him shift restlessly again, forgetting that Inara was curled into his side and accidentally jostling her. He froze automatically, unwilling to think too closely on why he was so against waking the woman in his bed. The seconds dragged through the suddenly tense atmosphere in his bunk far too long for his liking before Inara finally stopped squirming and instead of clinging stubbornly to him, as she was fond of, she rolled over onto her belly.

Onto her side of the large bed.

Relief left him boneless for a few precious seconds, so absolute he would have dozed off peacefully if it hadn’t been quickly swallowed by guilt... which brought him right back to restless. Unable to lay still anymore he scrambled to get dressed, choosing to focus on pushing everything away , so he could walk Serenity’s halls without everything eating away at him hanging over his head. He was up the ladder and out of his bunk in record time.

Once the hiss of his door closing behind him ended with a satisfying click, Mal found himself heading toward the kitchen, because why not make his insomnia worse by making himself a cup of coffee? After all, the night had that all too familiar feel of I-won't-be-getting-any-sleep . Resigned but with a steaming cup of watery coffee doctored with some whiskey to ease him into th