The shuttle looked like – well, it looked like a shuttle. All unfeeling metal and hard angles, purely functional, like a shuttle should look. Empty, Mal thought before he could stop himself. Cold and downright unfriendly, not that Inara was exactly warm and invitin’. To me, anyway.

He didn’t dwell on the why of that; he just went inside. His footfalls echoed too loudly on the deck, now that there were no thick rugs to muffle the sound. Never realized how much a few bits of cloth and some fripperies scattered around could make a place so different.

Nothing of her remained, except … Mal stopped, sniffed the air. Yep, there was the faintest whiff of incense –some almost-familiar yet exotic scent that he couldn’t have begun to put a name to. Kinda like Inara, he mused, and wished he hadn’t.

Other than that, there was no sign that this shuttle had been Inara’s home for nigh on a year. Not a shoe, an earring, a hair-comb accidentally dropped or scarf forgotten. It was like she’d never been there at all.

A year, Mal reflected with a pang. Don’t seem like it could’ve been that long. Wonder if Kaylee’s ever gonna talk to me again without glarin’.

He glanced around the passenger area and found he couldn’t remember if the table had been there or there, if the settee had been red or green or gold, if the bed had been –

Mal put a halt to that train of thought. That gorram bed and everything it stood for had been the start of too many fights, and the end of Inara’s presence on Serenity. Just as well, Mal decided. Leastways now we don’t have to stick to “civilized” worlds when we’re looking for work.

He went into the cockpit, sat down in the pilot’s chair. When he turned to look out at the endless black of space, his foot kicked into something underneath the console.

It was a lacquered metal trunk, very fancy, with Chinese designs etched into the panels. Inara’s name and the location of the training house showed the scrolling address display. Mal wondered how it had gotten shoved in here, but he wasn’t surprised that Inara hadn’t missed it yet. She’d had so many trunks of all shapes and sizes he’d thought they were never going to get them all unloaded.

Of course he wondered what was in it. Sundries, I expect. Doodads for her hair or maybe jewelry – better make sure Jayne don’t know it’s here.

The lid was locked tight, and he was immediately ashamed that he’d even tried to open it. Wasn’t his business. He should send Inara a wav right away and let her know that he’d found it. Could be there was somethin’ inside that she really needed.

She’d’ve sent me a wav by now, that was that case. And she hasn’t even sent one to Kaylee. He frowned, knowing how that was bothering Kaylee, reluctant to admit how it bothered him, too.

Best just find a safe place for it til Inara asks for it. He ran his hand over the surface, stricken by certainty that Inara would never ask for it, that she considered herself well-rid of him and Serenity.

I shouldn’t’ve been so hard on her, he thought tiredly. Her work’s more honest than what I been up to. She’s gotta make a livin’, same as everyone else.

Mal was sick of thinking about it. He hadn’t forced Inara to leave; she’d made that decision on her own, and he didn’t really believe that he could have stopped her, even if he’d said something. Doesn’t matter, anyhow. She’s gone and likely a lot happier at the Companion trainin’ house than she was bein’ dragged to the ass end of the ‘verse and back. This kinda life ain’t got nothin’ to offer a woman like that.

He sighed, suddenly feeling very old and worn-out. He picked up the trunk, and went to find Kaylee. She’d take good care of it.