Disclaimer: Firefly is the property of Joss Whedon and Fox. No profit made, no infringement intended.
One night Kaylee dreams of Earth-That-Was. Warm, squishy dirt slides between her toes as she runs barefoot, toward the voice that calls her name. The air is crisp against her face, and it feels rawer and more natural than any she has felt. This air has a history.
The voice calls out again, playful and beckoning. Kaylee's heart pounds louder in her ears each time she hears the voice, and she wills her body to make the journey faster.
At last the figure is in view, a blur of black and reds, but Kaylee recognizes her with every part of her body and soul. Kaylee barely has a chance to slow her momentum, and as she curls her fingers into the dark curls with lips unhesitating, they almost fall to the ground. Inara catches them, her arm grasping a tree, breaking the kiss with laughter. Inara's fingers fall to Kaylee's cheek, rubbing at the motor oil mark. The stain is stubborn, and before Kaylee can protest, the delicate silk fabric of Inara's sleeve wipes it away.
They walk back to the cabin, their arms linked, their heads nestled against each other. Inara pushes away her latest photographs to make room for Kaylee on the sofa, then heads into the kitchen to make tea, leaving Kaylee to study her latest creations.
Inara returns with the hot lemon and honey tea to find Kaylee blushing over a portrait of herself. Inara's hands slide around her, kissing fast and light until the blush was grown into a full burning desire. She gives her a few moments to drink before leading her back to their bedroom, a socket wrench clanging on the ground with her overalls.
At last they lie in bed, contented, curled tightly against each other. That's the feeling that Kaylee remembers most as she awakes, Inara's skin warming hers.