[Firefly] In Her Mistaken Flight
Title: In Her Mistaken Flight
Author: telepathicpixie
Rating: PG
Character: Inara Serra
Word Count: 380
Notes: 100_women prompt #94 - lost. Takes place sometime between “Objects in Space” and the BDM; slight Inara/Mal. Title from Poe’s “Spanish Doll.”
Summary: She had figured it would be a relief to get back to civilization.


She had figured it would be a relief to get back to civilization. Everyone else certainly thought she should have been relieved and told her so, many times, starting from the moment Serenity took off. It had been foolish teenage rebellion--except she hadn’t been a teenager at the time--to run off, take up lodging on a shady Firefly-class, client the outer worlds until…

Until she saw reason, as they put it. Actually, until she fell in love--thought she fell in love--and saw the folly of it all, slinking back to House Madrassa like a pedigree poodle with her tail between her legs. Foolish enough to think she could survive in the wild, only to return once she saw what was lurking in the woods.

It should have been a relief, to be within walls that did not run the risk of failing and exposing her to space, to be eating an actual meal instead of protein and rosemary. She could walk about in light silk slippers and not have to watch for errant engine parts, meditate and drink chamomile tea without someone barging in to interrupt her peace. The clients she took now were of true upper class, not rascals who had happened to make their fortune on the Rim. Her life was once more plush and cultured, refined and surrounded with every comfort and elegance that could be afforded to a woman.

But the dainty sweets made her miss the taste of rosemary and the delicately carved furnishings made her think of a wobbly dining table and tattered throw pillows. Sweet young Companions-in-training whispered past her in the hall with murmured greetings and she missed the sharp, ringing laughter of Kaylee and River as they raced through the ship. Her fellow Companions hid polite smiles behind slender hands and she thought of Zoe’s easy grin and the way the woman would duck her head to hide it, hands full of gun parts. Proper gentlemen paid her compliments and money, flattering her into a delicate blush, and she recalled Jayne’s crude comments; Wash’s dinosaurs and ridiculous shirts; Book’s unlikely friendship; Simon’s shy conversation; Mal’s…

Getting back to civilization should have been a relief; she had no idea at all why, instead, she felt lost and alone.


Table here.