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tamingthemuseTitle:House and Home (4/4)
Chapter Title: Tea and Turning Points
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Pig (My Chinese horoscope animal)
Word Count: 1639
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Cheers and thanks to both![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spiralleds and garnigal who both pointed out rough spots and I hope I smoothed them over. As always all errors are mine.
Part One The Call , Veils Part Two Veils and A Different Way of Seeing Part Three
Summary: Tea and Turning Points
Frustrated by the clutter of things left undone, Inara headed towards the kitchen and her relaxation tea. She'd been trained to have a plan, to not let emotion cloud her thoughts. As she stepped into the kitchen, its assorted canisters and plates, mismatched cutlery and the odd weapon felt like home. Funny how the kitchen's chaos was soothing, unlike that she was fleeing.
She knew it was a temporary shelter. However, sorting her items and storing them in the chests was not the systematic task she'd hoped for. They were only things. It was only a shuttle. She'd left places before. The kettle began to whistle, pulling her back from the morass of her thoughts. She reached into the cupboard and almost dropped the mug she held when Book's rich baritone inquired, "Is there enough for two?"
Pulling herself together with a bit of a shake, she pulled another mug, one of her porcelain ones, along with the hand thrown clay one. "There is always enough, if not we will share what there is. It's Serenity's way."
"Yes, I've found this ship to be an odd combination of mercenary intent and heart-felt generosity. While at times the monastery had mercenary generosity and heart-felt intent. Several men living in a space that felt smaller than this." Here he waved his arm, encompassing all that surrounded them. "Well, there's a reason for vows of silence."
She smiled at that, measuring out the fragrant leaves of the chamomile blend into a tea pot. "Maybe I should suggest that at the Conclave." She carried the teapot to the table, stepping around the mismatched chairs.
Carefully lowering the pot onto one of the trivets, she commented, "You are up late this evening."
Nodding, he followed her to the table, carrying the two cups. He queried, "And what has you up in these dark hours?"
"It is a small shuttle; I did not realize how much I'd acquired during my time here."
"It doesn't sound like this is a temporary visit."
"It's not." There. She said it. She'd committed to a path. "At least…" This wasn't her. She didn't prevaricate, not to herself. The Conclave only moved up the time line, it hadn't created it. She'd previously told the Captain that she was leaving.
"Allow me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
At her nod, he poured tea into the two cup before them. He settled back into his chair, leaving the cups where they were.
"I ended up on the ship because it was time for me to engage in the world again. Although I don't think the Abbot anticipated quite this level of engagement." His mouth quirked at that, drawing a matching smile from her own.
She remembered the weight of his despair and how lost he'd been when he entered her shuttle after Whitefall. She was feeling almost as lost now. Her gaze dropped to the rough hewed table top, worn smooth through use and care. Her own rough edges had been sanded away years ago, while Mal seemed to revel in being more abrasive with time.
"How many directions are you being pulled in?"
Her head shot up--sloppy sloppy. With a centering breath she angled herself to face him, ignoring the cups between them.
I'm not. That's what she was going to say. "Two," is what escaped her lips.
"Duty," he stated.
She acknowledged that with a tilt of her head. The Conclave, the pull of the House. She didn't wish to lead, but neither could she let it fall to someone who would harm it – through incompetence or intent. It didn't matter.
"And what pull does Serenity have over you? And would that pull survive your dereliction of duty?"
That was the question. Did Mal, and in these thoughts it was only Mal, not the Captain. Did Mal, or was she convinced enough, selfish enough—and would he even care if she left? Her thoughts were as mixed as Kaylee's crazy quilt. How could she, with all her training, be so unsure of one man?
The Shepherd didn't hurry her. He sat back in his chair and said nothing. Giving her thoughts both the quiet and space she hadn't allowed them since the Call.
She knew what she should do. She'd started on that path years before Serenity, no not Serenity but traveling the outer worlds. This had only been a stepping stone. Nothing more. So, no matter what she thought might be offered, there was only one way to be true to herself.
She picked up the frail looking porcelain cup.
"For some, duty isn't a calling. But for those of us that it is... need I mention the story of a man and a whale?"
"I've never been one to chase a white anything, especially here in the Black," she countered purposefully ignoring the biblical tale. Maybes and almosts weren't enough. She knew where she was needed.
"Thank you, Shepherd. You'll continue to look after this flock?"
"They don't much want ministering to, and like you, I'll go where the need's the greatest."
It wasn't a promise, not that she'd thought she'd get one. There were layers to Book. There were layers to them all.
** ** ** ** ** **
It was the next morning where she finally found him. Appropriately enough, it was on the catwalk, the places between, when she was able to force his hand. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his shirt collar was crooked. She forced her hand down to prevent it from reaching to fix it. That wasn't what she was here to do.
"Captain."
"Ambassador."
She hadn't heard that title in a while. She was surprised how much it stung.
"Wash's been telling me it's like a Planetary Council, what with all the waves you've been getting." He leaned back against the hand rail, relaxed and easy. Relaxed and easy if you didn't notice the tight lines around his eyes.
"And I'm sure you'll add the cost to my rent. I was wondering if there any firm plans to visit Sinhon or if I should seek passage at our next port."
That offer did give him pause. She watched his normal fluidity jerk, then continue as if nothing happened. "Simpler for us to drop you off. When would this Coffee Klatch be done? A few days? I 'spect that we could pick up a nearby job, just give us a wave to rendezvous with the shuttle."
Now? Now he takes steps to plan ahead. Now when she finally knew what she should do, he gave her another option. But what was he offering? Did he even know it himself?
"There's no knowing the length of a Conclave. Our histories record one that lasted months."
"Months? After that long abstinence, I'm sure most appointments after that lasted mere minutes."
There was the high road, the low road, and then Mal's road. Once she would have called him a pig, but now she knew better. He had a funny way of wooing and unfortunately, such bickering was her weakness. That, and the strength he thought he hid.
"So I will not be taking the shuttle, but I thank you for the thought." She tilted her head, gracious but not beholden. Why had she not realized that this meeting would take all her skills? She kept seeing the man, not the obstacle.
"You've paid up for the next few months, and I 'm right grateful for those funds. You'd think that little bird we've pulled is cursed for all the interest we've had in her." A shrug, he kept it light. But she could see he was thankful for the credits. How bad was it, that she was keeping Serenity afloat? Could they afford for her to leave?
"Sometimes what looks like the smart decision isn't."
"I think Zoe would say that was my motto. If not, then Jayne.. ."
"Yes, Jayne. You'd do well to watch him should he decide that he's a leader, not a follower."
"Hey, hey. No need to be managing my crew."
And a door was slammed in her face. His crew—she kept forgetting that simple fact. Which meant that her contributions, or the end thereof were not to trouble her. She wasn't one of them.
But it was only that separation that allowed them have this whatever they had. He no longer stood like a soldier; he only managed the spit of the spit polish. But while he might have given up his rank, he was military enough not to look to those under his command. Why had she only realized that now?
She fell back into her professional shell. She wasn't needed here, not like she was at the House. She was sure that Mal had no idea what he wanted, or if he did, he wasn't willing to take a risk. Her discussion with Shepherd Book had crystalized what she had to do. This conversation with Mal had not changed that. She'd done this dance before; there was no happy ending.
Companions create escapes for others, forming a world of comfort and ease. Serenity had been a mere sojourn, an escape from the rigidity of her role in the Center Worlds. It was now time to resume her duties, return to the life she'd always imagined for herself. Return to what she'd been trained to do.
Mal had his opportunity; his inaction was his choice.
She would miss the easy camaraderie of the crew, but she couldn't afford to drift any longer. The House that shaped her, needed her. She would not turn her back on them. That path wasn't certain or clear, but she could influence and protect her people.
It was time to return to the House. Even if she'd been fooled in to thinking of Serenity as home.
Chapter Title: Tea and Turning Points
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Pig (My Chinese horoscope animal)
Word Count: 1639
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Cheers and thanks to both
spiralleds and garnigal who both pointed out rough spots and I hope I smoothed them over. As always all errors are mine.Part One The Call , Veils Part Two Veils and A Different Way of Seeing Part Three
Summary: Tea and Turning Points
Frustrated by the clutter of things left undone, Inara headed towards the kitchen and her relaxation tea. She'd been trained to have a plan, to not let emotion cloud her thoughts. As she stepped into the kitchen, its assorted canisters and plates, mismatched cutlery and the odd weapon felt like home. Funny how the kitchen's chaos was soothing, unlike that she was fleeing.
She knew it was a temporary shelter. However, sorting her items and storing them in the chests was not the systematic task she'd hoped for. They were only things. It was only a shuttle. She'd left places before. The kettle began to whistle, pulling her back from the morass of her thoughts. She reached into the cupboard and almost dropped the mug she held when Book's rich baritone inquired, "Is there enough for two?"
Pulling herself together with a bit of a shake, she pulled another mug, one of her porcelain ones, along with the hand thrown clay one. "There is always enough, if not we will share what there is. It's Serenity's way."
"Yes, I've found this ship to be an odd combination of mercenary intent and heart-felt generosity. While at times the monastery had mercenary generosity and heart-felt intent. Several men living in a space that felt smaller than this." Here he waved his arm, encompassing all that surrounded them. "Well, there's a reason for vows of silence."
She smiled at that, measuring out the fragrant leaves of the chamomile blend into a tea pot. "Maybe I should suggest that at the Conclave." She carried the teapot to the table, stepping around the mismatched chairs.
Carefully lowering the pot onto one of the trivets, she commented, "You are up late this evening."
Nodding, he followed her to the table, carrying the two cups. He queried, "And what has you up in these dark hours?"
"It is a small shuttle; I did not realize how much I'd acquired during my time here."
"It doesn't sound like this is a temporary visit."
"It's not." There. She said it. She'd committed to a path. "At least…" This wasn't her. She didn't prevaricate, not to herself. The Conclave only moved up the time line, it hadn't created it. She'd previously told the Captain that she was leaving.
"Allow me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
At her nod, he poured tea into the two cup before them. He settled back into his chair, leaving the cups where they were.
"I ended up on the ship because it was time for me to engage in the world again. Although I don't think the Abbot anticipated quite this level of engagement." His mouth quirked at that, drawing a matching smile from her own.
She remembered the weight of his despair and how lost he'd been when he entered her shuttle after Whitefall. She was feeling almost as lost now. Her gaze dropped to the rough hewed table top, worn smooth through use and care. Her own rough edges had been sanded away years ago, while Mal seemed to revel in being more abrasive with time.
"How many directions are you being pulled in?"
Her head shot up--sloppy sloppy. With a centering breath she angled herself to face him, ignoring the cups between them.
I'm not. That's what she was going to say. "Two," is what escaped her lips.
"Duty," he stated.
She acknowledged that with a tilt of her head. The Conclave, the pull of the House. She didn't wish to lead, but neither could she let it fall to someone who would harm it – through incompetence or intent. It didn't matter.
"And what pull does Serenity have over you? And would that pull survive your dereliction of duty?"
That was the question. Did Mal, and in these thoughts it was only Mal, not the Captain. Did Mal, or was she convinced enough, selfish enough—and would he even care if she left? Her thoughts were as mixed as Kaylee's crazy quilt. How could she, with all her training, be so unsure of one man?
The Shepherd didn't hurry her. He sat back in his chair and said nothing. Giving her thoughts both the quiet and space she hadn't allowed them since the Call.
She knew what she should do. She'd started on that path years before Serenity, no not Serenity but traveling the outer worlds. This had only been a stepping stone. Nothing more. So, no matter what she thought might be offered, there was only one way to be true to herself.
She picked up the frail looking porcelain cup.
"For some, duty isn't a calling. But for those of us that it is... need I mention the story of a man and a whale?"
"I've never been one to chase a white anything, especially here in the Black," she countered purposefully ignoring the biblical tale. Maybes and almosts weren't enough. She knew where she was needed.
"Thank you, Shepherd. You'll continue to look after this flock?"
"They don't much want ministering to, and like you, I'll go where the need's the greatest."
It wasn't a promise, not that she'd thought she'd get one. There were layers to Book. There were layers to them all.
** ** ** ** ** **
It was the next morning where she finally found him. Appropriately enough, it was on the catwalk, the places between, when she was able to force his hand. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his shirt collar was crooked. She forced her hand down to prevent it from reaching to fix it. That wasn't what she was here to do.
"Captain."
"Ambassador."
She hadn't heard that title in a while. She was surprised how much it stung.
"Wash's been telling me it's like a Planetary Council, what with all the waves you've been getting." He leaned back against the hand rail, relaxed and easy. Relaxed and easy if you didn't notice the tight lines around his eyes.
"And I'm sure you'll add the cost to my rent. I was wondering if there any firm plans to visit Sinhon or if I should seek passage at our next port."
That offer did give him pause. She watched his normal fluidity jerk, then continue as if nothing happened. "Simpler for us to drop you off. When would this Coffee Klatch be done? A few days? I 'spect that we could pick up a nearby job, just give us a wave to rendezvous with the shuttle."
Now? Now he takes steps to plan ahead. Now when she finally knew what she should do, he gave her another option. But what was he offering? Did he even know it himself?
"There's no knowing the length of a Conclave. Our histories record one that lasted months."
"Months? After that long abstinence, I'm sure most appointments after that lasted mere minutes."
There was the high road, the low road, and then Mal's road. Once she would have called him a pig, but now she knew better. He had a funny way of wooing and unfortunately, such bickering was her weakness. That, and the strength he thought he hid.
"So I will not be taking the shuttle, but I thank you for the thought." She tilted her head, gracious but not beholden. Why had she not realized that this meeting would take all her skills? She kept seeing the man, not the obstacle.
"You've paid up for the next few months, and I 'm right grateful for those funds. You'd think that little bird we've pulled is cursed for all the interest we've had in her." A shrug, he kept it light. But she could see he was thankful for the credits. How bad was it, that she was keeping Serenity afloat? Could they afford for her to leave?
"Sometimes what looks like the smart decision isn't."
"I think Zoe would say that was my motto. If not, then Jayne.. ."
"Yes, Jayne. You'd do well to watch him should he decide that he's a leader, not a follower."
"Hey, hey. No need to be managing my crew."
And a door was slammed in her face. His crew—she kept forgetting that simple fact. Which meant that her contributions, or the end thereof were not to trouble her. She wasn't one of them.
But it was only that separation that allowed them have this whatever they had. He no longer stood like a soldier; he only managed the spit of the spit polish. But while he might have given up his rank, he was military enough not to look to those under his command. Why had she only realized that now?
She fell back into her professional shell. She wasn't needed here, not like she was at the House. She was sure that Mal had no idea what he wanted, or if he did, he wasn't willing to take a risk. Her discussion with Shepherd Book had crystalized what she had to do. This conversation with Mal had not changed that. She'd done this dance before; there was no happy ending.
Companions create escapes for others, forming a world of comfort and ease. Serenity had been a mere sojourn, an escape from the rigidity of her role in the Center Worlds. It was now time to resume her duties, return to the life she'd always imagined for herself. Return to what she'd been trained to do.
Mal had his opportunity; his inaction was his choice.
She would miss the easy camaraderie of the crew, but she couldn't afford to drift any longer. The House that shaped her, needed her. She would not turn her back on them. That path wasn't certain or clear, but she could influence and protect her people.
It was time to return to the House. Even if she'd been fooled in to thinking of Serenity as home.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-20 05:59 pm (UTC)Thank you!!