Laundry day was always a good day, in Mal’s opinion. Particularly when it was done at Celestial Liu’s Laundry on Persephone. Liu was fast and somehow always managed to get the bloodstains out of Mal’s shirts without asking questions. Plus, Liu always called him “Captain Mal” and never hassled him if he had somehow managed to misplace his “tickee.” Which, given Mal’s line of work, tended to happen with alarming frequency.

With just about anyone else, Liu’s strict policy was “No tickee, no washee.” But somehow for his good friend Captain Mal, he made an exception. Efficient and not overly nosy went a long way with Mal. When he could afford to do so, he always tipped Liu a bit extra. Mal also suspected that the time he sent Jayne to have a chat with a local tong boss trying to extort protection money out of Liu also went a long way toward building good will and clean undergarments.

Although he’d never admit to it, when Liu did his laundry, it always smelled better. Not all flowery, but kinda the way his Ma’s laundry did from when he was a kid. So the neat bundle River had brought back, all wrapped in white tissue and tied with red silk ribbon was a good thing.

He set it down on the bunk and carefully untied the ribbon, setting it aside so he could give it to River at a later date, as she liked to use them to tie back her hair. Undid the paper, folded it back and…

Stopped and stared.

For atop his neatly pressed and folded pants and shirts was something that was clearly not his. First off, he didn’t wear sheer lace. Second, purple was not his color. And third, he didn’t have the correct anatomy to properly fill the upper half of those two particular matching garments.

But the part that stopped him dead cold was one of Liu’s infamous “tickees,” pinned to the garments in question. At the very bottom, in Liu’s distinctive scrawl, were two words: “Miss Inara.” Dear Sweet Baby Buddha, he was staring right at what she wore under her…when she…

Visions of her in that matching purple bra and panty set swam before his eyes. Not that Mal hadn’t conjured up plenty of visions of her in various states of undress. Or even complete undress. But somehow, staring at the very items he’d fantasized about removing off her body only made those images more vivid and real.

He shook his head in the vain hope of clearing away images of her most likely perfect breasts spilling out over the top of purple lace and…were those butterflies? He didn’t even dare speculate any further on what those sheer panties wouldn’t even be bothering to hide.

There was nothing to be done for it. Mal had no option but to man up and return the items to Inara. He just hoped she wouldn’t haul off and paste him one in the chops for being some sort of lecherous hump. There was a deep nagging suspicion that despite the perfumes and silks, she categorically did not hit like a girl. He sighed and rewrapped the package. Not like she’d reward his gentlemanly behavior with letting him not be a gentleman. He retied the package.

Making his way to her shuttle, he squared his shoulders before knocking softly.

He heard her call out for him to enter, took a deep breath, opened the door and stuck his head barely inside. Somehow, as long as he didn’t step fully inside her shuttle, he could make himself believe that he’d be OK.

“Yeah, hi, there, Inara. Seems that Liu had a bit of a mix-up and I think this is yours.”

He extended his arm fully, dangling the package by the ribbons off a finger, since he was really afraid to get too close.

She looked at him with a bit of a puzzled expression, relieved him of the package and quickly unwrapped it. The lighting mighta been awful low, but Mal coulda swore she blushed at that moment.

“I…yes, those are mine. Err…thank you, Mal.”

He was a bad man, for he couldn’t resist yanking her chain, just a bit. “Yeah, well, purple’s never been my color. Not much of a butterfly fellah, neither.”

Steeled himself for her to lash back, either verbally or physically. Shoulda planned that one out a bit better, Reynolds. Not a good way to tell a gal yer sweet on her.

Right in that moment, she completely surprised him. Smiled in a decidedly non-mean way and said, “Perhaps flowers are more your style, then?”

Two could play that game, he decided.

“Only in a very, you know, manly sorta way. You…uhh…ain’t gonna whap me for peekin’ at yer delicates?”

And then, she surprised him for a second time. Looked down, a bit quiet.

“Not as though they will get much use these days.”

Mal blinked, suddenly feeling his heartbeat speed up.

“Hell, that ain’t so.”

Then she finally got good and angry.

“Mal, the Guild suspended me because of Miranda. So who exactly do you think I’ll be getting to wear these for? Jayne? Certainly not you!”

Suspended her?

And before he could check himself…

“Well why ever the hell NOT me, Inara? Yer a damn fine-lookin’ woman! ‘sides not as though I ain’t ever wanted to tell you how I…”

She stared at him, all big-eyed, and Mal knew he’d just humped himself.

“Tell me what, Mal? What did you want to tell me?”

He looked down at his boots, more afraid now than he had been with Reavers breathing down his neck.

“How I feel about ya, darlin’. That it damn near killed me when ya left and I was sorry for hurtin’ ya like that. That I’m sorry yer Guild dropped ya like that.”

She looked down at the package again. Smiled in a way that made Mal think he might actually get to see her in that frippery.

“Guess these would go to waste on Jayne.”

“Our merc is a man of many talents. ‘preciating fine undergarments ain’t his strong suit, however.”

“And you, Mal?” As she pulled him into the shuttle.”

Mal made a mental note to once again tip Liu a bit extra.

“Only one way to find out.”