You can blame/thank GR for this, as it was she who pointed out that Mal would like to see what Inara was doing in the shower and suggested that I might like to write it. We'd all make Mal happy if we could, right? So I'm making that particular dream of his come true. P.S. I don't know why, but it felt right to have Mal talking like a yokel in this one.

_____________________________________________

“So, um,” said Mal at the breakfast table, “shower’s broke.”

He looked around for a reaction, his gaze resting for a second on each of the faces of the ship’s womenfolk. Seemed to him like they was making an effort not to catch his eye.

“Yep. Shower head’s hangin' right off.”

Again, response was lacking.

“Got an idea misuse might have somethin' to do with it.”

A smirk. From Zoe. “Wouldn’t call it that, Sir,” she murmured.

“Makes me think, ain’t no point in hurryin' to fix it.”

“Why’s that?” Inara asked.

“’d just get broke again,” said Mal.

The three women looked at each other. So did River, pleased that everyone was smiling, even though the cause of it, what she was reading now, was – surprising.

“It weren’t me,” said Kaylee.

“Weren’t me neither,” said Zoe.

Inara said nothing, and Kaylee and Zoe burst out laughing. Mal scowled.

“Can’t of been Nara,” said Kaylee. “She ain’t got no need of it now.”

Mal scowled even more. He’d wanted to keep his and Inara’s personal business personal, but somehow, only a week after they’d finally crossed the divide, everybody knew.

“Well, that’s a narrow view of it,” said Inara smoothly. “No matter how satisfying a partner might be, there are some experiences that remain valuable in their own right.”

Mal’s scowl eased off a little: something to do with the thought of Inara experiencing something valuable in the shower.

“But it wasn’t me,” said Inara. “Last time I used the shower, it was fine.”

Used the shower. Mal’s scowl disappeared at the same time as his mouth opened a little.

“’s ‘cause it ain’t broke,” said Mal with a swallow. “Was just checkin', is all.”

Inara turned to look him directly in the eye. “Good,” she smiled, her gaze lingering on his open lips.

Was supposed to be a joke. Only not the kind that was on him.

______________________________

Later that night. Sitting on his bunk, legs crossed, a manual on his lap, reading quietly, minding his own business. Well, waiting for her.

The hatch scraped open and he looked up, expecting to see her. Instead something flopped down – a towel – wiggled, and slowly disappeared.

He got up, climbed the ladder, put out his head. Saw Inara, towel over her shoulder, walking along the corridor. Languid, swaying. She turned, looked back at him and fixed him with a torrid gaze that went straight to his groin. Deaf, dumb, he followed her.

Towards the shower, which she stepped into, fully-clothed. If the article she was wearing could sincerely be called clothing. It was more like a nod to the idea of it: orange, soft, translucent fabric, with a plunging V at the neckline and slits at the sides almost up to her hips. She turned on the water, hard, and it soaked her, soaked through the garment, making it cling and crease all over her body.

She pulled at the neckline, revealing one of her breasts, and pulled up the hem, bunching it into a knot at her waist. Staring at him boldly she reached up for the shower head, settled her behind against the wet tiles behind her. And – how was it she’d put it? Valuable…Experience…Couldn’t seem to remember. Didn’t care at all. Was hardly aware of himself anymore. Just her, and the hand holding her breast, the other hand holding the shower head, the unbearable desire mounting in both their bodies, and the way she was looking at him, like she was – challenging him? inviting him?

Felt like an invitation – to those parts of him that were taking the keenest interest in the situation. Only his brain was still functioning, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off her, didn’t want to stop seeing what he was seeing. Not just the body, and what it was doing with the shower head, and how it was reacting to the shower head; but the trust, the laying bare in every sense of the word. So one foot said go forward and the other said stay here. But it seemed like his conflict would be resolved quite soon, as Inara, making that sound he’d heard before, brought things to a natural conclusion. Then there she was, gliding towards him, her face bathed in softness. Wrapping her wet self around him, kissing him, whispering to him.

“What I said, this morning, about you, and this. It really wasn’t true at all,” she breathed into his ear, and whether it was true or not – he didn’t care about that either.