Captain Malcolm Reynolds
Word Count: 370
Mal wasn’t sure what time it was when he gave up trying to fall asleep. Serenity was quiet. All he could hear was the hum of her engines. She was running smooth as silk. “Shit,” he swore as the thought of the feel of silk brought a vision of Inara draped in it from head to toe with just the perfect amount of her golden skin begging for the touch of his fingers showing. “That is not a vision I needed fillin’ my head.” He glanced towards the bridge, going up a couple of steps until he noticed Wash and Zoe counting stars together as they cuddled in the pilot’s seat. If he was in his usual mood he’d have gone in to tease them about making out in public, but he just wasn’t in the mood for it.
As he scratched at his head, he wandered bare-chested and barefooted down the gangplank until he found himself standing in the entrance to Inara’s shuttle. He could still smell the sandalwood from her incense mingled with the exotic scent of her perfume. There was just a hint of the aromas remaining since she’d been gone for well over a few months. He breathed it in deeply, wishing that he could taste her on his tongue, and feel her with his rough hands. Hands that would never be soft enough not to leave her bruised if he touched her. Hands that weren’t good enough to ever come close.
He made his way across the shuttle until he found what he was looking for. It was a trunk made of carved real cedar wood with elephants and other creatures decorating it along with dancing naked women. He ran his fingers over the chest as he squatted on the cold floor of the shuttle in front of it, popping open the lock with practiced ease. Reaching inside he let his fingers run over the soft silks and shimmering satin brocades inside. He pulled out a handful of the clothing that had been wrapped around her and brought it to his face breathing in her wonderful scent. As he closed his eyes he pictured what it would have, should have, been like to touch Inara.