Date: 2009-08-07 07:32 pm (UTC)
Inara knew Mal just well enough to anticipate that such an interrogation was coming. And even knowing it, even having a small amount of time to puzzle through what she could say, how much she could reveal--she still hadn't a clue how she was going to answer him.

The vials had been meant for her, not for Wash or the Shepherd, but she couldn't have lived with herself if she'd stood by and let them...let them die. Or stay dead, and oh, she was still shaken by that. She'd watched a tree-trunk sized hole in the pilot's chest heal, flesh and muscle closing in like flood water. Only then had she truly realized what it was she'd been carrying with her in those little syringes, all this time.

Miracles.

The knock threw her for a moment, because technically, it wasn't her shuttle anymore. It could be, if she decided she wanted it to be. Her gaze dropped to the folded red silks and perfumes in the chest she'd 'accidentally' left behind, and she sighed softly before calling out an answer.

"Come in."
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Malcolm Reynolds

August 2009

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