"'Nara," says Mal. "I need a copilot tonight."

Kaylee coughs to hide a sudden smile, and Mal feels a suggestive kick at his ankle, presumably meant for Simon. Mal declines to pass the kick onto its intended receiver.

"Mal," says Inara, gracefully taking a ladylike bite of her curry-flavored fried protein ration, "I thought River was on the schedule for tonight."

"Well, for one, 'Nara, if you're not openin' your bed for business every planet we're stoppin' off at and so not payin' me rent, you need to do somethin' to earn your keep 'round here 'sides keepin' everyone goin' all Reaver on me when I make a suggestion they don't like, and two, River-"

"Is previously engaged in instructing Jayne on the dynamics of the flowing human form in dance," River interrupts.

"It ain't dancin'!" Jayne declaims loudly, and brings his mug of something incredibly alcoholic down on the wood table for emphasis. "I asked her to show me a few other ways o' fightin', is all. Since she's so good at it."

Everybody pointedly doesn't mention when River took him down without breathing hard in the Maidenhead, which makes it more obvious what everyone is thinking.

"I don't know if I can turn that up, Mal," says Inara doubtfully. "Co-piloting the ship doesn't even begin to compare with watching Jayne and River dance."

"Ain't dancin'," Jayne mutters.

"Well," says Mal, "I mean, if you don't want to-" He breaks off, and tries to pretend like he had trailed off. Kaylee coughs again, and Mal kicks her ankle in response. She glares at Simon.

"No, no, it's alright," replies Inara, quickly. "I can do it. It's fine."

"Good, then," Mal says. Silence descends, one that Mal doesn't like much, one that shows his crew is thinking too hard. "Someone take a capture o' Jayne dancin', 'kay?"

" It ain't dancin'!"

---

"So the nav system's over there, and-"

"It isn't much different from my shuttle, Mal. I think I can handle it."

"Well, when we get to Lilac, we'll have to hang a right to avoid that asteroid cluster, and then straight on towards-

"Morning?" Inara suggests, with a smile.

"Huh?"

"Like in Peter Pan… never mind," she says, and looks back at the navigational screen. "We'll be there in a few hours."

"Good. I'm off to the ladies' room," Mal says, "before settlin' in for the evening. Can I get you anything from the kitchen?"

"No," she replies. "I'm fine. Thanks."

Mal disappears from the bridge. Inara leans back in her chair, wondering if it might be more comfortable to change into her sleepwear, and then remembering that a Companion is trained not to notice minor discomforts like corsets and that she didn't have anything that she would want Mal to see her in anyway, and then ponders that she wouldn't care if he did, and then stops that line of thought, because it clearly isn't going anywhere productive.

The door to Mal's quarters clangs in the hallway behind her. She looks back, sees he isn't there, hopes absently that they aren't carrying another bounty hunter, and flicks a switch to make all the piloting buttons light up.

Mal returns, and Inara looks at him inquisitively. "Had to go by my bunk to change pants," he explains; "Doesn't do to wear somethin' better for standin' around in if you hafta be sittin' up all night."

She can't see any difference. "Those do look more comfortable," she says.

Slinging himself into the seat Wash had once occupied, Mal says, while looking at his controls, "'Nara, you do me a favor? Only the controls are on your side."

"Sure," she says, reaching for the steering column, "what do you want?"

"Would you give up a life of whorin' and men, and settle down as my wife?" He glances at her now. "Look, 'Nara, I even got ya a ring." He tries a hopeful smile. It makes him look vaguely feverish.

"Mal!" Inara exclaims, flustered. "I wasn't expecting- I didn't- Why-" She stops gabbling, after giving it a good try.

"It's shiny if you don't wanna," Mal says, his voice the steady tone of someone who is nearly hiding very well how hard they're trying to keep their tone steady. "I just thought my lack of askin' was the reason you left Serenity and mayhap the reason you came back. I know you're a working woman, and you got your girls at the temple. Just give it some thinkin'."

"Yes," says Inara, "I will."

Mal grins at her.

"Think about it, I mean," she adds. His face drops, and she feels pity, even though she knows he would despise her pity if he knew about it.

"Shiny, then," Mal responded, and turned back to the controls.

---

"I'm firing the left thruster," Mal says, breaking the silence that had reigned on the bridge for quite a while. Inara had nearly dropped off to sleep. "Open up the right buffer panels."

"Right," she replies, and does so. Looking out the window, she cries, "Mal!"

"Whoops! Big rock," says Mal, and Serenity dives downwards, or whatever the equivalent of downwards might be in space, to avoid the asteroid that had just decided to grace them with its presence. The crew would have needed to scrape another pilot out of the seat had it crashed through the window.

"You're just trying to convince me life is short so I should proclaim my love for you," Inara teases.

"That's precisely it," Mal answers, wrenching the ship back on course as Lilac's gravity plays gently with their momentum.

"Life is short, Malcom Reynolds," Inara proclaims, "and so I must return immediately to the Companion house and teach little girls the grand profession of… whorin'."

"You got money for fuel? 'Cause I just got enough to make it to Rosalind, no detours."

Inara sighs. "You know I haven't had any clients in weeks, Mal. You keep going to these back-of-beyond planets where I wouldn't touch the men with a ten foot pole."

"Which is, I admit, a mind-bogglin' difference from the usual state of affairs," Mal says, very seriously.

Inara doesn't know what to say next, even though she suspects he's teasing her in return.

"You know I chose this ship so I could visit a large amount of civilized planets. Specifically for that," she says, choosing to return to the old familiar argument.

"Oh, don't be usin' your wiles again."

"Wiles? I'm not!"

"'I chose you'. Right. I've heard you whisper that on the waves to your clients," he retorts.

"Why would I need to use my 'wiles' on you? Apparently you're hooked already!" This comes out louder than she means it to. Mal doesn't reply, and the silence is awkward, and Inara wants to apologize but she doesn't know what for. She tries a smile, which lightens the atmosphere, but only because it's her and she knows approximately five hundred sixty-two smiles for various effects. "Did you get a pretty ring?"

Mal gives her a sidelong glance. "Only one way to find out."

"Oh." Inara sits back in her chair, and slouches uncharacteristically. She sits up again. "Time for the ladies' room," she says, and leaves before Mal can say anything. She needs to think without him not looking at her.

"But I need someone handling the brakes!" calls Mal from behind her, but she says, "I'll be back in a second!" and sashays away as quickly as she can.

The bathroom is unoccupied, and no sounds from the loading bay indicate that Jayne is still getting dancing lessons. She locks the door, and sits on the floor.

She doesn't know why she won't say yes. She knows she loves him, and knows she's never actually loved a man before. She knows she wants to stay on Serenity. She knows that she doesn't want any more clients. But after her entire acquaintance with him being of the competing-for-insults variety, she doesn't know what to say.

Nothing that will let her escape with her dignity, in any case, and for a Companion as good as she, that's really saying something.

Is dignity worth more than love?

Inara sighs. The door rattles under a sudden onslaught. "Someone in there? I'm about to-"

"I'm getting out, Jayne!" Inara calls before the man can explain what he's about to do, which would undoubtedly scar her mind for a while. She scrambles gracefully from her compact position (she knows no other way to move) and pulls the door aside after unlocking it. Jayne's holding his crotch, and Inara very carefully does not look down as she sweeps past him and back to the bridge.

"Gorram," he mutters with relief. Inara shudders, genteelly.

Once on the bridge again, Inara settles in before saying, "Mal… I don't know what to say. To answer."

"How 'bout, 'Yes, of course I will be your wife, Mal, and in fact let's set this thing on autopilot and I'll go cancel all future appointments and I'll teach you some of the things I teach the girls at the Training House,'" he says, and it sounds like he meant it to come out as a joke.

It doesn't sound like a joke.

"You just want me for your… your whore?" she demands, instantly outraged. "Is this how you plan on getting around my policy not to service the crew?" She swears eloquently in Chinese. A lot of it is directed towards her potential future parents-in-law, her potential husband's body parts, and a surprising number of proclivities that Mal had not, in fact, known existed, but supposes Inara has had more experience in that particular field that he has.

He raises an eyebrow at this unrefined language but forebears to comment. "Nandi was a whore. You're a lady," he says simply.

"I wish you hadn't slept with her," she says, surprising herself more than him. That wasn't, precisely, the biting retort she had intended.

"With Nandi? I thought you said you were glad." His voice is rough.

"Yes." She stops. Mal doesn't rescue her from the silence. "I thought you were holding out for me. But you didn't."

"Did you want me to?"

She turns her head away. And nods.

Inara turns to face Mal again, but he is no longer there; he is now standing behind her. "'Nara," he says, brokenly, "I never woulda done that if I thought I had any hope to hold onta with you."

"I left because I was giving you too much hope and it wasn't professional," she says, her voice threatening to desert her. A piece of hair falls in her face, escaping Houdini-like from its tight bun.

"So ya do have feelin's for me, then?"

She looks at him wryly. "Unfortunately enough, it seems."

"Why don't we make it not so unfortunate?" Mal lowers himself to one knee. "Will you consent to be my bride, Inara Serra?"

"You know, Mal," she smirks, "you're not the first man to ask me that."

"I hope to be the last."

"I'll bet you do." Pause. "And you will be."

Mal smiles a crooked, one-sided smile. "That's a yes, right?"

"Yes, Mal."

"Shiny." He grins fully now. "Can I kiss you now? There've been a few near-misses lately…"

Inara kisses him. She's good at it. It might have gone further, too, but suddenly her eardrums were assaulted.

"Cap'n? OhmygodInaraeeeeeeeee!" exclaims the suddenly-present Kaylee, in a near-incoherent squeal of romantic excitement. The two spring apart, Mal landing uncomfortably on his rear, while Inara's hair catches on a lever and pulls the rest out of its bun. All the lights go off, and, uncharacteristically embarrassed, Inara pushes the lever back up. Light returns.

"Kaylee!" shouts Mal, as if the name were a curse. Inara laughs. "Didn't your pa teach you to knock?"

"Nosir!" says Kaylee. "But Cap'n- Inara-" She stops, unable to continue recognizable speech. Her grease-streaked face is split with a grin.

"What did you need, Kaylee?" demands Mal.

"Oh, I- um- I plumb forgot!"

"Well, don't come back when you remember, dong ma?"

"Yessir!" Kaylee darts down the corridor.

"And no spreadin' gossip!" Mal shouts after her.

"They'll know soon enough," soothes Inara. She can't stop smiling. She hesitantly touches Mal's cheek. "And there will be ample time for what we were doing once we're married."

Mal nods reluctantly. "Oh!" he says suddenly. "The ring!" He fumbles with his pants pocket. "I didn't really change pants," he explains; "I had to get it from under my mattress." Grasping her hand, he slips on a simple silver band with a solitary clear stone set in the middle. "I wish it were nicer," he apologizes.

"It's the nicest ring in the world," Inara promises him, and means it.

"Well, then, only the best for my future wife." He glances at the navigational screens. "This boat needs steerin'."

"And I'm your eternal co-pilot," Inara says, but Mal isn't good with metaphors.

"Really? Sure you wanna be up every night?" He considers. "Not that you don't got a lot of experience with that…"

"Never mind," she sighs.

Mal returns to the pilot's chair. He flicks three switches above his head, and grasps the rudder controls. "Oh, and 'Nara?" he says.

She looks at him. The words 'I love you, too,' hover right behind her lips.

"I ain't chargin' you rent for the past month, so you needn't worry."

"I-" Inara begins, out of sheer momentum. "Oh. Thanks."

"Anytime."

---

Fin