Inara knelt before her makeshift altar to Buddha and lit a stick of incense, inhaling the woody fragrance. Closing her eyes, she focused on the individual notes of the scent, letting each take her deeper into meditation.

Sandalwood: solid and grounding. Jasmine: sultry and centering. Green Tea: sharp, a little bitter, and uplifting. Amber: provocative and transporting. Soap: clean and…. Soap?

Inara opened one eye and sighed loudly when she saw Mal standing in the doorway of her shuttle.

“Zhòu mà qīn rù zhě,” she muttered “I am trying to pray. I thought we agreed you wouldn’t come aboard without my permission.”

Mal sauntered in, leaned against a wall, and grinned. He had always privately sworn that Inara was never more lovely than when she was flustered. Right now, she was beautiful. Looking around the shuttle, his memories of how it used to look and its present state sharply contrasted with one another. All the sumptuous trappings had gone and it looked plain, utilitarian. Except for the jewel toned bedding on the simple cot and the gilded statue of Buddha, no trace of Inara’s former occupation remained.

“Coming along nicely in here,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at him and stood up, brushing off her gown where it had touched the floor.

“It’s coming,” she answered “Though, I don’t know if nicely is the right term. I thought about waving Sihnon for my things, but--”

“But?” he asked nonchalantly.

Inara looked at him and narrowed her eyes.

“If it’s rent you’re worried about, I have more than enough-“

“It’s not the rent,” he said quickly “No one said anything about rent, I-“

“Then why are you here?”

“I just thought, I mean, I-“He rubbed his hands through his hair and stared at every point of interest besides her.

“Yes?” she asked, the hope in her voice barely concealed by a note of impatience.

“Mǔ de lǎo tiān yě, woman,” he exclaimed “Has anyone ever told you that you have a way of being right infuriatin’?”

“I believe you’ve mentioned it a time or two.”

“Well, let’s make it three, shall we?” he said, trying to stay calm, but failing. “Woman, you are right infuriatin’.” “My sincerest thanks in bringing that to my attention, Captain,” she said, curtly.

Both were rigid, looking away from each other and breathing hard. Inara was the first to give, her shoulders slumping for a moment before she regained her composure and turned towards Mal.

“How was crime?” she asked.

In her simple question was a note of, if not an apology, but a moment’s truce.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was crime,” he answered “Though I hate dealing with that wángbādàn, Hiram. I near turned Badger down, but the pay was too good.”

“Why is that?”

“He’s a traitor,” Mal answered “Only reason he ain’t dead is because he crossed the lines afore anyone realized what he was up to.”

Inara raised one eyebrow in question and Mal sighed.

“He was in the War. Didn’t fight with Zoe or me, but our paths crossed. Browncoat, or so he claimed. Right before we were left in Serenity Valley, heard tell he had crossed over to the Alliance side with all sorts of interestin’ intel. That’s one version. Other one bein’ he’d been Alliance all along and played us all the fool. Either way, man deserves a traitor’s death. One of these days the pay won’t be good enough to keep him from gettin’ it.”

Mal’s jaw tensed in remembered anger and Inara moved closer to him, his high emotion causing the atmosphere between them to charge.

“How did he end up on the Rim?” she asked.

“Way I figure it,” he answered, taking a small step closer to Inara. “Is that the Alliance ain’t got much need for traitors, no matter what color coat they wear. Once he served his purpose, he got the same treatment we all did. Death or Banishment. Though he got the shinier end of the deal than a lot of us did. Got a moon. Runs it like a petty tyrant. Bèi pàn zhě…. It’s near impossible to do any sort of dealing with that man knowin’ what he did.”

“I’m sure it is,” she said softly and stepped towards him.

Mal watched as she reached out her hand to touch him, his pupils dilating as she lay three fingers of her right hand gently on his shoulder. It was meant to be a gesture of comfort, but it had a completely different effect on him. Each finger touched him a fraction later than the one before it, a one-two-three symphony she played on his senses, stretched taught as bowstrings. He looked down on her and she looked up at him and both smiled.

His body and mind had different reactions to her touch. His body leaned into it and his mind pulled away and, sensing his confusion, she let her hand drop.

“I’m glad it went well,” she said, voice rough.

“So am I,” he answered.

There was an uncomfortable pause and she cleared her throat.

“Did you need anything?” she asked, trying to regain her composure, and could tell by the look on his face that this was the wrong thing to say. It had the feel of a question of business when he was looking for something else, something more.

His features hardened and his back became rigid, a soldier at attention.

“Thought I did,” he said softly before turning and exiting her shuttle.

“Cao,” she cursed under her breath as she watched him walk away.

She walked across the shuttle and took the incense from its holder and plunged the burning end into a small cup filled with sand. She was in no mood to meditate, though she sorely needed self-reflection, as she was certain Mal Reynolds was the only man in the ‘Verse that could make her curse like a mudder’s wife.

****

“So, what do ya think?” asked Kaylee as she stared down into a crate “They to eat? They’re awful different from any egg I ever saw.” Jayne rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand and picked up one of the eggs. It was warm in his hand and he examined it from all sides before sniffing it.

“Don’t rightly know,” he answered “But it’s been a long time since I’ve had an egg with breakfast.”

“Or we could grind some protein into flour,” Zoe offered “And bake a cake.” “A cake!” Kaylee said excitedly “We ain’t had a cake since—” “You think Badger would notice a couple missin’?” Jayne asked. Zoe took the egg from him and started to put it back, but stopped and gave it a wistful look. “Cap’n didn’t say we shouldn’t eat them,” she said. “You shouldn’t eat them,” Mal said from behind them, causing all three to jump. Zoe quickly replaced the egg in its niche inside the carton, secured the lid and slid it back into the hidden compartment between the cargo hold wall and the hull. Jayne pushed the panel that concealed the compartment behind him with his foot and stood in front of the open space, arms crossed, trying to look like he had been doing nothing. Kaylee turned red in the face and muttered something about having something in the engine room to do, but Mal stopped her before she could get far and turned her back around.

“So,” he said “What’s with the sneakin’ about? “Well,” Kaylee started “Zoe here was tellin’ us all about you two bein’ in the War with that hun dan back on Tawaret and we got to wonderin’ out loud what kind of cargo he might have for us. I mean, that you’d be willin’ to take on.” “Sure as hell weren’t no bobble-head geishas,” Jayne said “So, Cap’n, how’s about an egg breakfast. Badger’ll never know there’s a crate missin’. Man’s a gorram moron.” “That may be,” Mal said “But those aren’t eatin’ eggs. They’re parrots. Crates are heated special, to keep ‘em alive in transit.” “Pa-who?” Jayne asked. “Birds,” Kaylee answered “Fancy birds. My daddy said he saw one once when he was young. Some Core lady was visitin’ our planet to dedicate a building that was named after her. She had one that sat on her shoulder. He said it talked. Said all manner of things. Real pretty, he said. Real ‘spensive, too, I’ll wager.” “If you don’t mind my askin’, Cap’n,” Zoe said “What’s Hiram Riley doin’ with a cargo like this? Must be worth a small forture.” “Bigger than small,” Mal replied “And I didn’t ask. The less I conversate with him, the better chance he has that I won’t put a bullet in his gorram head. I suppose he has a supplier on one of the outer Core planets what deals in liberated goods, but I don’t much care where they came from so long as we get paid.”

River walked soundlessly down the stairs to the cargo hold and insinuated herself behind Zoe and Kaylee. Then, ducking down, she crawled behind Jayne into the space with the crates. “’Lil albatross?” Mal called “Come on out of there.” River’s head popped out of the opening and between Jayne’s legs. The merc let out a slight squeak and jumped out of the way. “Gorram it, Crazy,” he exclaimed “What you doin’?” But River didn’t pay any attention to him, she was holding one of the eggs and grinning widely. The small white egg twitched slightly in her hand and everyone gasped while River giggled. “Oh, those gorram things better not hatch afore we get to Persephone,” Mal said “I am not a gorram zoo.” River placed the egg in Mal’s hand and it twitched once more before lying still. “He’s sleeping,” she said with a smile “Dreaming of flying.” “He gonna wake up anytime soon?” he asked. River gave him a funny look, shrugged her shoulders and walked off. Jayne gave a soft chuckle and Mal glared at him. “Problem, Jayne?” “Naw, just likin’ the way she looked at you like you were the crazy one,” he answered. Mal stared at the egg for a beat more before pulling out the crate and replacing it gently. He then pushed the crate back in and fitted the panel back on, concealing the space from view.

“I want full burn to Persephone, Kaylee-girl,” he said “Afore they quit dreaming”

“Aye aye, cap’n,” she said, but stayed where she was standing.

“Yes?” Mal asked.

“Can we keep one?” she said quickly.

“Full burn!”

Kaylee scrunched up her face, giving Mal a quick, dirty look and headed towards the engine room, grumbling.

Translations: Zhòu mà qīn rù zhě – Damned intruder Mǔ de lǎo tiān yě – Mother of God/Heavens Wángbādàn – literally “An egg laid by an unvirtuous woman.” Meaning: bastard. Bèi pàn zhě – Traitor Cao – Fuck