This scene takes place after In Her Sights. Maybe 2-3 days after the Epilogue.
Inara
“What are you doing?” I ask as I come around the corner to find Royce braced against the bathroom counter, shaving—or trying to with his left arm in a sling.
He meets my gaze in the mirror. “I’m going with you.”
The edge to his voice warns me I’ve been hovering a little too much these past few days, but I can’t help it. He almost died. Because of me. “The hell you are. Rest, remember? Doctor’s orders?”
“Don’t over…t-tax myself,” he corrects. “I’ve done n-nothing for three days, Inara. I can handle this. I’m not letting you go alone.”
In truth, the idea of heading to the police station to update the report on my burned out shell of a house turns my stomach. Everything I owned, gone. “Royce—”
“Don’t.” He sets the razor down, turns, and holds out his good arm. “Come here.”
I fit myself to his side, running my palm down his tight stomach, careful to avoid the bruises Coop inflicted over hours of torture. “I could have lost you.”
“You didn’t.” His hand tangles in my hair, pulling hard enough to send pinpricks of pain along my scalp. “And I’m not the only one who almost died.”
My eyes burn, and I tip my head up to meet his gaze. “We lived.”
“So let’s get on with our lives.” He forces a weak smile. “Leave the house. Maybe go out for lunch?”
There’s no point arguing with him. And I want him by my side when I walk into that police station. “Okay. But after that, we come home and spend the rest of the evening in bed.”
“Sounds like a damn good plan.” He claims my mouth in a searing kiss, sending heat shooting to my core. I’ve half a mind to take him back to bed right now, but when he pulls back, he starts laughing.
“What’s so funny?” I jam my hands on my hips and cock my head. “You’re worrying me, soldier.”
He tugs me around so I can see my reflection in the mirror. A dollop of shaving cream smears the end of my nose, and another decorates my chin. “Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” Grabbing a hand towel, I wipe my face, then snap it at his ass.
“I’m counting on it.”
* * *
One week after the Epilogue for In Her Sights
Royce
Inara eases the car into a shaded parking spot outside the art studio. “I need to show you something.”
She’s been nervous all day. Unsettled. The keys jingle as she tries to unlock the studio door, and after a muttered curse, I wrap my arm around her waist. “Take a deep breath, baby. Unless you’ve got a body in there, there’s nothing to be nervous about.”
“You don’t…I mean…” Sinking back against me, she lets me take the keys. “This isn’t like the last time.”
The night her house burned down, Inara brought me here to show me how she copes with the stress of her job. Being a sharpshooter requires her to shove all of her emotions into a tiny little box and keep it locked up tight. Her paintings help her release some of those pent-up feelings in a healthy way.
Following her into the studio, I wait for her to open her locker and withdraw a large canvas. “Give me a minute?”
“Anything you need.” The window across the room offers a glimpse of the mountains, and I focus on the way the sun glints off the white peaks, wishing I could do something…anything…to show her we’re okay.
Cool fingers brush my arm, and her scent invades my nose. “What are the chances we’ll be alone here for an hour?” I ask, bending to press a kiss to the tender skin behind her ear.
“I know what you’re doing.” Inara melts against me, tension seeping from her body as I continue to caress her back with my good arm. “But I want to get you home before we get naked, and I have to show you something first.”
Leading me over to an easel in the corner, she puts herself between me and the picture, close enough I can’t really see around her, despite our height difference. “I painted this right before…everything happened with Coop. When I started, I was hollow. Alone. But…by the time I finished…” Inara steps aside.
A stormy sky threatens, all blacks and greens with a hint of yellow. The steep cliff drops off into a violent sea, the whitecaps crashing along the craggy shoreline. But a short distance away from the edge, two trees bend against the wind, the branches of the larger tree wrapped around the smaller in a tender and protective embrace.
Words fail me as my gaze traces the depths of her pain, her sadness, her fears. And her hope. “It’s us,” I say, wrapping my arm around her waist.
“It’s us.” A tear tumbles down her cheek and lands on my forearm.
Turning her to me, I cup the back of her neck. “Let’s bring it home.” Her breath hitches, and she shakes her head, but I stop her protests with a searing kiss. “I want us both to remember where we came from, Inara. And this? This is our past and our future.”