There comes a time in every man's life when he has to stand up for what he believes in, when he has to set his pride aside and step up to make a difference in the world and in his life. It's a breaking point, a defining second when he knows he's better than his lot, and reaches out for a piece of that which he is, by rights, entitled to.

For Captain Malcolm Reynolds, that moment came during a four AM fit of insomnia, passing by Rick Castle's door and hearing the soft sound of moans coming from behind it.

It made his blood boil and his temper rise, not just at Inara and her stubborn, stupid, stubborn gorramn refusal to cut anyone, least of all herself, a little slack, but at himself for dancing around her this long. Believing in something...sure, he believed in them. Plenty. He was just too big a piece of space trash to do something about it.

Some passing thought about what a whore Castle was made him think of it, actually let him sleep when he returned to his room. Alone.

So the next morning, bright and early, before she had a chance to run and hide in her ruttin' space at the temple, Mal was knocking at her door until she opened it for him.

"Way I see it," he began, scared to death but angry enough to keep himself put, "you got two choices, this second, right here and now. One? You sleep with me, free of charge. If you feel nothin'? I will never darken your door again. You 'n me, we'll go on, and I'll not pester you 'bout this nonsense of you 'n me together ever again."

One hand darted out to catch her wrist, hauling her hard against his body right there in her doorway. Before she could react, he had an arm around her waist and a hand at her cheek, tipping her head up to him.

"Two? You tell me no, and I kiss you, right here, right now, 'till you faint. And can't you or any power in the 'verse stop me." he growled. "So you got 'till I'm shuttin' you up to agree or give me a good gorram reason...a good gorram reason...why I shouldn't do exactly what I've said I will."

And fair man that he was, he gave her a second, one moment of stillness and silence in the vice of his arms before he started leaning down to steal his kiss...and her reason.

He who does not know how to be silent will not know how to speak.

==========

NOTE: Takes place in the latter half of Serenity: Those Left Behind just after Book informs Mal that he's leaving.

He never did know how to keep his fool mouth shut…which was probably how he ended up standing in an empty mess, saying a whole lot of something to a whole lot of nothing. Ultimately, he had to agree that that was the whole problem with him and his like.

People with big mouths never did know when to open ‘em or keep ‘em shut.

And that left him with all he had to offer: a whole lot of nothing. It didn’t matter what he had to say or what he felt, because he’d waited too long and been too much the coward to break that lock and open that door to let her see what was inside him. It rankled something powerful to know that Inara Serra, a stuffy, arrogant, mei yong-duh Companion had managed what an entire army of Purple Bellies with guns a-blazing never had: she scared him stupid.
Well…maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. She wasn’t completely mei yong-duh, after all.

He could no longer say the same for himself, though, and he hated her for that. He blamed and hated her for the fact that her existence made him a worthless, useless blob that couldn’t do much more than grieve over his own stupidity. He hated her for robbing him of his dignity, his strength, and his voice. A man could only hold himself accountable for so much before he had to take a look at them that made his crew and dish out a little responsibility so he didn’t drown in it.

Inara was responsible for being what she was. Existing was her crime, being a walking talking bit of shiny like the trinkets in her shuttle, the kind of thing that a body could live without until it couldn’t the second it laid eyes on her. He hated her for making him want something like that, irrational and crazed…for a brief instant, he was one motionless, rock-solid ball of flesh and hatred that burned so hot and so black it made him just a little sick.

Sick and silent, and when he swallowed past the bile, uncaring. He didn’t care she was leaving, didn’t care Book was leaving…didn’t care about a hell of a lot beyond the ship under his feet and keeping her afloat.

He wouldn’t care, and without her around to keep poking at that lump of gos se that used to be his heart, he hoped it was going to be a mite easier.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 416

She’s trouble on two very fine legs that, at the moment, were propped up on the edge of the table in the dining area. Trouble walking...Mal knew it the very first day he met her.

Well...maybe the second day, truth to tell. The first day, he was too distracted by Bester’s stupidity and naked backside, Inara’s own rather pleasant state of nudity, and the relief of finally being skybound once again.

But the next day, all it took was a few minutes of standing in the engine room...a place that had once been part of his rickety little kingdom transformed into a land where she ruled with an iron fist and a gentle touch. He knew right then that she was trouble and nothing but.

And yet she turned his head so hard, sometimes he forgot which was right and left or up and down.

Getting involved with them that were in his employ was tacky, not to mention dangerous. Mal knew it, and that’s why he’d managed to avoid that eventuality thus far.

But still, in moments like this...when he was caught in a doorway, unseen, and she in an easy moment, unaware...it was easy to forget for just a little while. In those moments, he wondered what it might be like...to touch her, to taste her, maybe even put a grav boot on that restless ship before she could fly away again.

But then she saw....felt him somehow, and with a turn of her head and a coy, dark smile delivered with an instinct that would have made her a hell of a Companion, it all melted into a warm puddle of nothing.

It brought upon him the worst part of forgetting: the moment when you finally remember.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 297

Am I a lucky fella? Reckon I am...though that opinion tends to change depending on the day...and on the job. Don’t feel all that lucky when work is slim, or when folks don’t pay what they promise. Those are the worst days...when someone gets it in their head to try and stiff us, and ain’t no matter how the standoff goes, we get humped in the end.

I ain’t so lucky those days, by my opinion.

Still...there’s other days. Job goes smooth and lemme tell ya, those occasions are few and gorram far between, we all get paid...fuel enough for a while, plenty to eat...hell, maybe something ‘sides protein. Those are the days when the world’s as it ought to be. I feel pretty durn lucky those days, in general.

Ain’t much better than that as a rule, and I work damn ruttin’ hard to make sure it don’t get no worse...but there are days. Not when it’s that low, but when the spirits lift a mite above just lucky, or even damn lucky. There’s the days you feel lucky to be alive...beatin’ back Death or something bigger. Takin’ on a monster wouldn’t otherwise be imagined into being if you hadn’t seen it with yer own two peepers.

Me and my crew? We’ve had us a few of those...and I’ll tell you right now, lotsa folks don’t hardly get a single day like that in their lives. Me...I’ve seen more ‘n one. Everyone on Serenity has, ‘cause those days have happened to us all. Us...we done the things couldn’t be done, if you listen to folks. Big things, little things...we won battles was impossible to win. Heart of Gold...Miranda...hell, even puttin’ one over on ol’ Yolanda Bridget Saffron YoSaffBridge.

And that one thing does make me consider myself one of the lucky folk. I got a chance to prove my mettle and I didn’t back down.

But most of all..when I toed that line, I was luckier ‘n most...’cause when I did it, I wasn’t alone.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 353

"A bit uncomfortable with it, Malcolm?"

Mal narrowed his eyes just a bit, moving his gaze towards the pickup to make sure Badger picked up on it. A little menace didn't hurt none, and for the job Badger was asking, Mal figured he was owed a little toying.

"Trip's gonna damn near exhaust my fuel cells on hand...if I'm to refuel for this little journey, I'll need compensation." he bit off tersely, folding his arms.

He watched Badger grin, and in that moment knew that the weasely little son of a bitch had to know about the significance of the job. "Now that won't be a spot of trouble, mate. Just be sure you take good care of my cargo, dong ma?"

Mal simply nodded. "Yeah...I'll contact you after the pickup, and again after the drop. See you in the world." he replied, cutting off the transmission without waiting for Badger's response. For a few long moments, he just stared at the screen, trying to figure out who in the gorram hell Badger could be working with.

Mal knew most of the folks on Shadow like the back of his hand...and wasn't too many men on that moon would deal with Badger's like, and even fewer who would be desperate enough to.

"Yep...this can't be good." he murmured to himself, finally standing from the pilot's chair and wandering off the bridge to head for the mess area, where the crew would likely be gathered.

No one was present but Inara when he arrived, and from the looks of the bits and pieces laying about, chow had just finished. Someone had been courteous enough to cover his plate...he wondered for a moment if Inara had done it.

Walking over to grab his plate, he nodded to Inara cordially. "Hope yer schedule's clear," he drawled, *knowing* for a fact it was, "'cause we got a job's gonna take us a little ways out."

( "C`mon, Cap`n...you gotta get her *something!*" )

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 578

Marriage ain’t too different from most things in life...ain’t particularly complicated at all. Everything’s simple in the start ‘till some fong luh hwoon dahn comes along and twists everything all up and makes a mess of it.

You love someone or you don’t. Real simple...there ain’t no in between place. Love ‘em a little, they’re a friend. Love ‘em a lot, they’re family. Trust ‘em or don’t, could be an ally or an enemy. But love...real love, the kind that takes you off yer feet and has you dancin’ on a cloud or some other fuzzified nonsense, has no in between.

You love someone? You either want to spend your life with ‘em or you don’t. Again...ain’t no in between. You got an in between, then maybe you ain’t got love. After that, it’s only a matter of a man havin’ guts enough to ask the question could break him up into a million bits if his girl says no. Shucks, I even heard of girls doin’ the asking, and you know what? That’s just shiny. As a rule, most womenfolk got one up on us big dumb male types, anyhow...least when it comes to how ya feel.

That’s another thing, too...feelings. Women do seem to have the market cornered on ‘em...always wantin’ to talk about ‘em, express ‘em, get right techy if a man don’t wanna do the same.

Some men don’t need a lot of words to let a woman know she’s wanted, though. Sometimes it just takes a handful...hell, sometimes takes only two t’ get a point across.

Two words...not four. ‘Cause if a man ain’t yet after marriage, there’s still some things he needs to know if he don’t yet.

And regardless of which words get said or who gets asked what, or even who does the askin’...whether it’s ‘yes’ or ‘I don’t know’...at the end of the day, whichever you take...

...it’s still a good answer.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 333

Well, my thoughts on cheating is fairly clear and uncomplicated-like...you ask anybody that knows me, Malcolm Reynolds is a man of honesty and integrity. ‘Less you’re a lyin’ two-bit gan ni niang, then whether or not you get a taste of the better side of my nature’s left to my whimsy.

I don’t believe in cheatin’ anybody, man or woman...not for any reason at any time. It don’t come with the package of bein’ an outlaw, or even an evil person. I’ve seen evil in a man...tasted it, felt its touch on my skin and its blade in my body, and I know that even an evil man can deal honest one on one. Even evil can be reasonable...because real evil, true evil, thinks that it’s good and acts as such. You can count on it to behave a certain way, and to do so without a single bit of failure.

Real evil don’t cheat...’cause to cheat would mean doin’ that which is against its very nature. A good man’s got no reason to cheat. It’s them that dwell in the middle...don’t know where they stand and don’t much care that are the folks who are like to pull a swindle.

In a way, I conjure that the good Shepherd was right on that...a man who believes in something is purt near unbeatable. It’s the big things that make a difference, but the little things...well, I suppose they make just as big a difference in another sorta way.

Cheatin’s just another way of changing yer mind...and doing a wrong by someone in the process. The folks who know what they is, or even think they know...good or bad? They’ll never deal you a swindle ‘cause they got that belief...convictions, I suppose. The rest...they ain’t got nothin’, not even a law to mind themselves, much less others.

I don’t believe in much...but I do believe in not cheatin’ a man. Don’t rightly know where that puts me, with morals and such...but at least I know where I stand somewhere in this crazy ‘verse.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 357

Gee, let me think on that a minute.

No.

I finished my tour with faith soon as I finished my tour of duty, and that’s gospel, dong ma? God, Fate, Destiny, Karma...all hogwash in my book. I got no time for all-powerful cosmic forces of any ruttin’ kind, ‘cause I know they’re all so much go se.

People think that destiny makes their lives up for ‘em ‘fore they even get into this world, but that ain’t true. We choose our lives...life or death, sky or land, whether we live free or die in chains. It’s all our choice...the decisions we make determine the lives we lead. Not somethin’ outside our own heads we can’t even see.

It weren’t destiny that made who knows how many men die in the war. It was their choice to fight for freedom got them killed, and there ain’t no shame in that. Shame is chalking up their ends to the ‘verse, lookin’ for meaning when it’s all right there...written in their blood.

Don’t you get me wrong, though...I don’t chalk it all up to coincidence at the end of the day. While I don’t give Fate much thought, I do believe there’s forces in this ‘verse that’ll end up in each other’s laps one way or another...factors, times, places and things that’ll all come together not ‘cause they was meant to, but ‘cause they have to. Like magnets...destiny don’t draw ‘em together, finagling ‘em around does the trick. Sometimes, they push away from each other, but if you flip one over...

Speakin’ of which, I’d best be off. Inara’s prolly got her rent ready, and it’s high time I got paid.

Muse: Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Firefly/Serenity
Words: 285