Mal approached Zoe on the bridge. It’d been a while since their last job, and while Mal was loath to admit it, Serenity was in need of some serious remodifications if it were to remain an effective smuggling vehicle in any capacity. So, here they were. On the raggedy edge.

“We got us a job?”

“Yes sir, we’re on course for Persephone.”

“Good. Let me know when we’re nearing atmo.”

“Yes sir. Oh, and Inara wanted to see you, sir. Said it was important.”

“She say what about?”

“No, just that you should come to see her when you had a minute.”

Mal grunted and trudged off down through the ship to Inara’s shuttle. They’d been taking baby steps since the whole Miranda episode, and at this point, any unusual requests were grounds for immediate suspicion. With more than a little apprehension, he opened the door to her shuttle.

“Yes, m’lady, what can I-” he stopped dead in his tracks.

Inara was standing in the center of her shuttle in a sheer gown that left very little to the imagination.

“Hello Malcolm.” she intoned huskily. The robe pooled at the floor around her.

The last thing Mal remembered was that she’d used his whole name. His nose made a loud crack against the floor of her shuttle.

A hastily constructed excuse and a pack of ice later, Mal was sitting with Simon in the infirmary.

“So let’s go over this again. How did it come to pass that Malcolm Reynolds, who has been stabbed and beaten within an inch of his life without batting an eye, faints and breaks his nose while climbing down the ladder to his bunk?”

Mal snorted, “Laugh it up doc, I got no idea. Ain’t you the doctor anyhow? Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

Simon adopted his best, most doctor-esque stare.

“Well Captain, looking at the facts, I’d have to say that this is a simple case of overexertion. Seems that you haven’t fully recovered from your last beating and stabbing. Perhaps you should take it easy for a while, maybe sit the next job out.”

Mal blanched, “I think you may be mistaken doc. I feel shiny 'cept for the cracked nose, which, how long did you say that’d take to heal?”

“It’ll be pretty bad for at least 10 days. After that, the swelling should start to recede. You’ll be ok in two weeks, although it’ll still be sensitive. So, Captain, if you disagree with my diagnosis of your episode, do you have an alternative theory? I mean, forgive me for prying, but I would like to know of any information you may have that would allow you to second guess the only person on the boat who’s attended medical academy.”

Boy knows somethin’, Mal thought. Get out now.

“Well, not sayin’ you’re wrong, but just don’t sound right to me. Well, can’t sit here whingin’ all day. Got me some crime to be done.”

Mal quickly barged out of the infirmary. And straight into Inara.

“Oh hello again, Mal, I was just coming to check on you.” She grinned as she said this.

He just looked at her, head cocked to the side for a few seconds. Then he shook his head and spoke.

“Hey uhh, sorry ‘bout that.” He extricated himself from her proximity with cautious, contained movements.

“I uhh…” He was having problems forming a complete sentence while looking at her. After what he’d seen-

“Woah.”

It all came back to him. The shuttle, the robe, the sudden lack of a robe.

Inara knew what effect she had on males. It had always delighted her to see them respond to her every touch exactly as she’d calculated. Still, this recent development both perplexed and elated her at once. They’d certainly have an interesting chat should the opportunity for a clothing optional meeting ever arise again.

She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. He tried very hard to focus on a spot on the wall rather than her neckline.

“We can talk about it later. Perhaps, in a more private setting…” her words trailed off, replaced by a sultry smile.

Mal gulped. Hard. Damn if this woman wasn’t trying to kill him.

“Whatever you say, ma’am.”

When had Malcolm Reynolds stopped engaging in the thrill of the hunt? He’d show her that he was still in the game.

She turned to go back to her shuttle when Mal leaned close to her, firing, “Normally I’d ask for a repeat performance, but seein’ as I got banged up pretty bad last time, I’m gonna hafta ask you to please conceal the more invitin’ parts of your body, dong ma?”

She smirked now, “Ah yes, I’ll take into account your newly discovered intolerance for the female form when selecting my clothing from now on.”

He shook his head and clomped off to some other part of the ship, more on general principal than any real desire to engage in any meaningful activity.

Inara smiled as Simon peeked his head out of the infirmary, eyes wide. Ah yes, dinner would be fun tonight.