"Mal...stop. We...we can't do this."

Mal reluctantly pulled away, taking in the glorious site of her with hair and face slightly mussed and dress bodice half undone. "Darlin', you picked a helluva time to pull outta that dive. I might not be able to walk right for near on a week."

Inara blushed, and Mal did not fail to notice just how far down that blush went. "I'm sorry. This was...a mistake."

She got up from her previous spot in Mal's lap.

Mal shifted position in the pilot's chair very carefully. "Sure didn't feel like a mistake about 30 seconds ago. Why the change of heart?"

"Because all you and I ever do is hurt each other again and again. And I don't want that, for either of us."

He looked at her standing in front of him, tears running down her face, and her not even bothering to fix herself back up proper. There was a time when she would have done so. Hell, there was a time when he wouldn't even have dreamed he could get close enough to touch her without burning off his fingertips.

"So you don't want me to hurt you ever again?"

She silently nodded, sniffling a bit.

"Can't make you that guarantee. Because, well, because I'm a hwoo-dan who don't always know the right and proper thing to say or do. And if that ain't good enough for ya..."

"Mal, I..."

He ran his fingers through his hair, a habit borne of frustration. "What would you have of me, Inara? You want me to be like Zoe? Zoe who don't feel anything? Not love or joy or even pain?"

She took a step closer. "No..."

"Because I tried that. Tried it for five whole months. Damn near killed me. I don't want to be like that. Hell, I'd give my right arm for Zoe not to be like that, but that's her battle to fight. All I know is that we'll hurt each other. And then we'll patch each other up as best we can."

She gave him a small smile. "What if we don't have the right bandages?"

Mal grinned at her in return and drew her back into his lap. "Well, we'll just hafta see what the Doc's got laid in over in the infirmary."