Title: Black Days: Inara Author: CharlieBZ Summary: Inara deals with the crew and has some reflective time. Rating: PG for language Characters: Inara, Crew Pairing: Canon, if any Spoilers/Timeline: post BDM Disclaimer: No money is being made from by me and I certainly don’t own Firefly/Serenity. Author's Note: This fic takes is part of a continuing series. If you’re a little lost see my blog entry here. Many thanks to gilliebeans at LiveJournal for all her help.

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Black Days: Inara

The small, plain dorm revealed nothing that would indicate to any subsequent lodger that a man known as Shepherd Book had ever occupied that space. There wasn't a piece of him to be found anywhere so on one particularly bleak day, Inara, the newest inhabitant of the small quarters, felt compelled to meticulously search the room. It had become inexplicably imperative that she find some physical evidence to corroborate the man's existence. Yet her search was frustratingly fruitless - no wayward bits of forgotten sundries, no old toothbrush, no hair ties, no forgotten letters or notes. Nothing. How could a man occupy a space for the better part of a year and not leave any indication that he had ever existed?

Since she never did find anything of Book’s, Inara settled on communing with him through the one object that she knew had been present during his stay on Serenity. Hanging drearily on the pale yellow wall at the foot of the bunk was someone's peculiar effort at art. Inara crossed her legs on the bunk and looked at the orange and purple weaving trying to imagine what Shepherd Book’s thoughts may have been as he gazed upon it. Did he, like her, wonder about whom had created it? Did he recognize the hardy and rough material as something a farmer or someone of modest means would have access to? Did he understand that someone had painstakingly dyed and wove the odd colors together attempting to create a sunset?

Inara was convinced that he, too, had eventually found the simple beauty and humanity the piece offered. At first, Inara had dismissed the piece as utterly forgettable then she had paused to study it longer and found it became quite ugly. In the last several weeks, however, Inara had had more than enough time to study it and she discovered the homely little creation exhibited a simple and honest beauty. After even more contemplation, she realized the odd art was supposed to be a setting sun. The startling contrast of tropical orange and royal purple against the rough, earthy fabric may have failed to accurately depict the brilliant beauty of a sunset but maybe that wasn’t the point. Unbidden, she remembered the sunset at the memorial and how the oranges, yellows and purples seemed muted almost as if the crew’s sadness had drained all the brilliant color from the sky. Maybe the artist was remembering how beautiful a sunset could be or how beautiful she wanted the sunset to be.

The crudeness of the rough fabric along with the shockingly vivid colors led her to believe this homespun craft was the result of some Rim woman’s artistic vision. Inara pictured the woman striking up a conversation with Kaylee and proudly showing off her art. Kaylee would have politely gushed over it and, even though she more than likely understood it to be lacking artistic value, Inara could see Kaylee bartering for it and knowingly overpaying for it. No, Inara amended; Kaylee had instantly recognized the humble creation for what it was: a human’s modest attempt to recreate beauty. Inara may have been trained to appreciate the finer aesthetic qualities of art but Kaylee had an innate ability to recognize splendor in the simplest of creations.

Leaning back against the opposite wall, Inara lightly ran her hands over the rough blanket beneath her. In her mind’s eye, Inara saw the coarse, synth-wool cover replaced by a thick, soft, green comforter accented with little purple flowers. Her gaze became contemplative as she visualized a color scheme that would complement the little piece of art that she had become so fond of. Light green on the wall beside the bunk - maybe a soft lilac for the wall where the weaving hung. Couldn't really play up the purple - Mal wouldn't like that…

Inara tensed and forced herself to stop her interior decorating fantasies reminding herself, yet again, that her presence on Serenity was temporary. To reinforce this idea, she had purposefully stayed in Shepherd Book’s old room - ostensibly to be near River so Simon could have time with Kaylee but if she went back to her shuttle, she would be tempted to dress it up a little, personalize it and little by little she would find herself back to the life she had fled. No, she couldn’t allow herself to consider this home. Not again. So, Inara stayed in the Shepherd’s old room determinedly not personalizing it in any fashion. Her few clothes were folded neatly in the small dresser but no knick knacks or cosmetics adorned the surface and when she left, she wouldn’t leave any more of herself than the Shepherd had.

“I’m putting the water on.” Simon called out interrupting her musings. Inara glanced over to the partly open doorway relieved to see that Simon wasn’t there. Wiping her eyes, she got up and peered out seeing him through the window of the med bay.

She walked over to the small mirror. Her eyes weren’t too red – nothing that a little kohl and color wouldn’t conceal. She sniffed quietly and began applying her makeup successfully covering any evidence of her emotional turmoil. When she was finished, she smiled at the mirror making sure that her visage was all that it should be. To her, the smile appeared false but she knew Simon would never see the lie of it. She went over to the small dresser and pulled out a bright red faux silk tunic. The flowing tunic matched perfectly with the equally red pantaloons she was already wearing. She slid the tunic over the close-fitting white tank top and turned to the mirror to survey the results. Her eyes narrowed in bemusement as she realized that practically every inch of her was covered from the neck down. Not her usual style, but she had found the ensemble in a little Vietnamese stand on Persephone and liked the classic, flowing material. At the time, she had felt optimistic and the colors complemented her mood. She sighed at the memory then straightened and walked to the common area.

Nodding to Simon, she took her usual spot on the chair perching on the edge and primly clasped her hands in her lap. She gave him a placid smile as he set the kettle of boiling water on the coffee table. Pouring the boiling water into a worn, yellow, checkered teapot, she pushed away her melancholy mood which was surprisingly easier to do when she emulated the ritual of the tea ceremony. She waited until Simon was seated on the couch before she continued preparing the tea. As she fell back into the habits of the cherished custom, she felt more like herself. Her next smile at Simon was the most honest one she had given anyone all day.

Placing one delicate finger on the lid of the pot, she poured their tea into mismatched cups. She watched as Simon leaned back blowing lightly on the hot liquid. In another life, she would have happily accepted his request for her services. He was the type she had favored: rich, young, privileged, and polished. She smiled again meeting Simon’s eyes which he took as a signal to commence their conversation.

Inara and Simon had formed a habit of taking tea every evening. They were generously given the opportunity by Kaylee and River who occupied themselves with whatever pastimes Kaylee could dream up. The tea time had become important. An escape. By unspoken agreement, no serious topics were broached; no talk of River’s problems, no discussion of the Alliance, nothing of any importance. To some, the polite inconsequentials they chatted about would seem meaningless but, to Simon and Inara, this brief foray into civilized conversation was a welcome and much needed respite from the turmoil on Serenity.

"Is it that time already?" Inara asked, pouring him more tea. They had deliberately fallen into the formal Chinese spoken by the upper class of the Core. Their pronunciation was crisper, their phrasing more precise but the words flowed effortlessly over their tongues. "I can't believe it's almost the end of July."

Almost three months since the Operative had shown up at the Training House throwing her life into chaos. Inara felt momentarily guilty over her selfish thought. At least she still had a life unlike so many others…

"Before I…" Simon hesitated before continuing. “Before I left, my parents were ecstatic over finally getting the opportunity to attend the Great Qian Affair.” He shook his head in wonder. “I swear, they must have been working on securing invitations for well over a decade."

She smiled nodding in understanding but Inara fought not to judge the Tams. Apparently, they worked so tirelessly to be able to attend the Universe's grandest fete but didn't expend half as much effort to check on the welfare of their daughter; their beautiful, exceptional daughter who deserved far better than these parvenus.

"Do you think they will attend this year?" Inara asked as she suddenly thought about what effect Simon and River's disappearance could have on the Tams’ life.

Simon met her concerned gaze understanding her underlying question. "I've done some checking. As far as I can tell, my parents have suffered no adverse consequences resulting from our…departure. So, yes, I'm fairly certain they will attend. They worked too hard for too long not to…" He trailed off, taking another sip of tea.

"Well,” Inara started, moving the conversation back to safer topics, “The Qian Affair is certainly the crush of the year. Nothing compares." Inara’s tone was wistful. Her fingers lightly traced the crack that encircled the cup as she thought about the famed Sihnon gala. It was the most celebrated and exclusive event in the Universe. Most of the attendees had entry solely by virtue of their ancestry. The only way for others not of the old Sihnon families to attend was to purchase Gala privileges which were not easy to come by. The privileges usually came about by the death of an attendee with no heirs or when a noble family fell on financial hardship. Gala privileges sold for an exorbitant amount.

"You've attended?" Simon asked.

“Several times, actually."

"You must have influential clients."

Inara’s wistful smile vanished as she stared at him stunned at the heated spark of offense his careless remark elicited. "My family has enjoyed entry to the Qian Affair since it first originated two centuries ago." Even though she knew Simon had not intended to insult her, she didn’t bother attempting to keep the reproach from her voice.

"I'm sorry," Simon said, looking mortified and confused. “I didn’t—“

Inara interrupted him before he could embarrass them further. "One of the lovely things about Sihnonese society is the complete acceptance and encouragement of the Art of the Companion. In fact, a family has not arrived socially until they may boast of some familial connection with a Companion."

“I didn’t know,” Simon said miserably.

Inara hated feeling the need to defend her profession. The problem was his comment made her feel exactly the same way she felt when Mal tossed “whore” at her. She took a sip of tea willing herself to calm down. After a few moments, she mustered an apologetic smile. “I’m sure you had more important things to concern yourself with other than the intricate workings of Sihnonese society.”

But the tea was ruined. They continued chatting but there was an uncomfortableness in the air that wasn’t present before and both were relieved when Kaylee and River arrived.

"I found a book," River said, sitting down by Inara on the chair. Inara scooted over to make more room for her. River clutched the book to her chest as she looked hopefully between Simon and Inara. She appeared to be oblivious to the tension between them. "That's what you said. ‘Let’s get into someone's head where you've been invited.’"

“That’s a wonderful idea, Inara,” Simon said, giving Inara a small smile. All was forgiven, at least on his end. Simon patted Kaylee’s knee before rising and taking the kettle into the med bay. “I’ll put on more water.”

“I need a different outfit.” River jumped up and ran to her bunk.

“Everything okay?” Kaylee asked.

Inara began arranging the tea set to accommodate two more. In hindsight, she felt foolish and silly for getting angry at such a thing. “I’m just feeling prickly and took it out on Simon.”

“Guess everybody’s doin’ a little of that lately.”

Inara did not miss the note of censure in Kaylee’s voice. She looked up and met Kaylee’s steady gaze surprised at the wave of admiration for her friend.

“He’s lucky to have someone like you at his back.”

Kaylee shrugged, waving off the compliment. “I just consider it my duty to cheer him up. Later. In my bunk.” She winked at Inara.

River rushed back in. She had donned a long, sparkly green skirt and removed her heavy boots. Inara and Kaylee smiled at her as River stood at attention waiting for Simon to return with the boiling water.

“Inara,” River said. “You sit next to Kaylee and Simon. As a proper audience.”

Inara sat next to Kaylee folding her legs under her. She was looking forward to River reading to them. It would be nice to have a River diversion that didn’t involve flying objects.

Simon returned with the kettle of boiling water. Inara moved to prepare the tea but River intercepted.

“Allow me.” Her face scrunched in concentration as she decided how much tea to put into the pot. Inara could see some form of calculation being mulled over before River finally decided on the appropriate amount. After pouring the water into the pot, River stared at it waiting for the tea to brew. Simon, Inara, and Kaylee remained silent watching her.

“I think we should let it steep for six minutes,” River commented to no one in particular.

When she judged the appropriate time had elapsed, River poured the tea. She watched as they each sipped their tea and smiled at their praise. She nodded, sitting down on the chair Inara had vacated and began to read.

“WhenIsteppedoutintothebrightsunlightfromthedarknessofthemoviehouse—“

“Sweetie, you got to slow down!” Kaylee said. “Can’t understand a word comin’ out of your mouth.”

“River, just take it slow,” Inara said. “Think about the words. Clear your mind of everything else. Just focus, mei mei.”

“Slow,’ River said, her expression gravely serious. Taking a deep breath, she began again. “ ‘When…I…stepped…out…into…the…bright…sunlight…from…the…darkness…of…the…movie…house…”

Simon, Kaylee and Inara exchanged an amused glance. River had certainly slowed down.

“…I… had…two…things…on…my…mind…Paul…Newman…and…a…ride…home.’ Who’s Paul Newman?”

“I don’t know, River.” Inara’s tone was patient.

“Paulus in the Latin. Small or humble. Is small Paul a good guy or a bad guy? If he’s small and humble he’s good, right?” She jumped up from her chair and pulled on a strand of hair. “Why would the narrator think about him? Is he sly? And Newman. Was he recently changed from a woman?”

Simon went into the infirmary and quickly returned bringing his Universal Encyclopedia. “American actor. Career flourished in the latter half of the twentieth century. Here’s his picture.”

Kaylee oohed over the eyes. “He’d be on my mind, too!”

River only spared a cursory glance – her mind had drifted onto other subjects. “Moviehouse. Moviehouse. House of movement?”

“I think he just watched a flicker,” Kaylee said, still looking at the image on the datapad. She looked up catching River’s unspoken question. “You know, a picture show?”

“River, at this rate we will never get past the first page,” Simon said. “Save your questions for the end of the chapter. Okay?”

River nodded. She stared at the page for a moment before sitting down and resuming her reading. After a few minutes, she found a pleasing rhythm. One that was neither too fast nor too slow but she still read in a dull monotone. Several minutes later, she jumped out of her seat and began to pace about the room – all without pausing in her reading. As she continued to read, she twirled. One hand held the book while the other grasped her green skirt as she spun slowly around the room.

Inara leaned back, her eye falling on Simon and Kaylee’s intertwined hands. Idly, she watched as Simon’s fingers absently played with Kaylee’s. She smiled feeling happy for them. Her thoughts wanted to dwell on how it would feel to have someone to be casual with - someone to have a future with but Inara firmly pushed those thoughts aside. She had made her decision long ago and had vowed never to regret her solitary path. She looked back up and gave her attention to River.

***

"You've been thinking about it again." River observed as she sat down on Inara’s bunk. She was dressed for bed. "I can smell it."

Inara folded the red tunic placing it into the drawer with her other few clothes. “Smell it?” She asked absently as she puttered around the room preparing for bed.

“Not through my nose. At least I don’t think so.” Tilting her head to the side, she continued gazing at the weaving. "It's not a sunset - it's a sunrise. And I think that it's by a little girl. She's eight years old and has to get up before the sun to help on her family's farm. She does…farm things. Like feed the cows."

Inara smoothed lotion over her arms and hands. River held out her own arms as Inara rubbed off the excess on her. She nudged River over to make room for her on the narrow bunk. "That's what art is. Everyone sees something different." Inara rose up on her knees dividing River's hair. Without thinking, she began stroking River's long hair then finger combed it intending to braid it.

"I see yellow and orange and purple. It looks like a robe I had when I was four." Her voice was relaxed and dreamy. She tilted to her head back giving Inara better access to play with her hair. “Do you like cows?”

“I don’t dislike cows.”

“Do you remember the cows on our ship?”

“Yes.”

“They’re probably all eaten and digested by now.”

Inara grimaced at the thought. “Maybe they are in a nice big pasture making little cows.”

“Cow heaven.”

Inara started to braid River’s hair but stopped when she saw something on the dresser that she hadn't noticed before. River craned her head back to watch Inara’s expression then hopped up and brought it to her. Inara examined the crude sculpture. It was made entirely of nuts and bolts that had been glued together to resemble the First House of Sihnon.

"River, this is an excellent likeness of the First House."

"I made it for you." River scooted under the covers and lay on her side with her hands tucked under her head. "You can take it with you. Something to remember me by when I'm left all alone." River affected an overly dramatic tone into her voice.

Inara rolled her eyes at River’s ploy but she chose to change the subject. "Are you sleeping in here?"

"Yes, please."

“I’m going to use the CorTex. You’ll be alright?”

River nodded, yawning. "Stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Laying down on the outside of the bunk, Inara reached out and turned down the light. In the dim light, she watched as River fell asleep. Once she was ready, sleep overcame River in minutes unlike Inara who lay in bed for what felt like hours before she was able to fall asleep. River was eerily still in her sleep. Still, that is, until a nightmare caught hold of her. She had had one last night and had crawled into Inara's bunk shaking. Inara stroked her hair and dried her tears feeling helpless. Last night had been no better or worse than the other nightmares. When Inara asked what she dreamed of, River would shrug. "Reavers?"

It was difficult reconciling the young woman who lay next to her with the woman who had killed a dozen Reavers. River looked so young, innocent, and vulnerable. Inara smoothed back a stray tendril of dark hair winding it behind River’s ear.

The clock alongside the bed told Inara that it was ten p.m. She compared Serenity time with Kapilavastu time. Remembering that the difference wasn’t that great, she slid off the bunk. Even though River was fast asleep, Inara whispered, "I'm going to the shuttle."

Throwing on a green dragon robe, Inara headed for the cargo bay. She paused at the hatch looking up to make sure no one was around. Rushing through the hold, she sprinted up the stairs hoping she didn't run into anyone. Once she approached the hatch to Shuttle One, Inara allowed herself to return to a more normal pace. She walked into the dark shuttle and found the light controls.

In the harsh light, her eyes found Zoë immediately.

“Zoë…I didn't expect to find you here… I'm sorry to interrupt.”

"Ain't interruptin' anything." Zoë’s voice was toneless. She may have been sitting on the small cot in the dark but she hadn’t been sleeping.

"I was…just going to use the Cortex." She turned to leave feeling like an intruder.

“Can’t feel him in here," Zoë explained, absently tapping her finger on her knee. "The one place in the whole damned ship where I can’t feel him.”

"Have you been sleeping here?"

"If you can call it that." Zoë tilted her head back against the bulkhead and stared at the ceiling. "God, I miss him. Nights like this everything is so damned quiet. Never realized just how silent Serenity can be.”

She looked up as if remembering Inara was there.

“Well…” Inara started, unsure if Zoë wanted her to stay or go. “I guess I’ll…”

“No. It's alright.” Zoë patted the mattress inviting Inara to sit. “I've had enough of my own company.” Inara sat down beside her. They sat quietly for awhile.

“Worst part is," Zoë continued. "I’m starting to get used to him not being here. Starting to reconcile myself to the fact that I ain’t never gonna see him again. That it wasn’t all a mistake and he’s laying in some Alliance hospital waiting for me.” She looked Inara in the eyes. “Why in the hell did I think I could hold on to such joy?”

"Do you wish you hadn't…"

"Loved him?"

Inara nodded.

“No.” Zoë met Inara's gaze. "I got regrets but not on that account. Best thing I ever let happen to me. Didn't end the way I wanted but, yeah, it was worth it. Just never had it fixed in my mind that it would be him that’d go first.”

"What do you regret?"

"That I didn't make him shut up and hop out of his seat." Zoë's eyes glazed a little until she shook her head chasing those images away.

Inara’s own mind went back to how Wash had looked on the bridge. She shivered and looked around to clear her head. Her gaze focused on something on the floor next to Zoë. “What’s that?”

“One of Wash’s buddies sent this as a wedding present.” Zoë reached down and held up a bottle in the shape of an extra well-endowed woman. “We were saving it for a special occasion.” She looked at Inara, a humorless smile appearing on her face. “Guess this occasion is as good as any.”

She opened the bottle and took a long drink, her fingers avoiding the overly large breasts. “Ain’t sure how to hold thing…” Passing it to Inara, she said, “Not as bad as the bottle looks.”

Inara studied the bottle. The woman was disproportionate - boasting of a shape no woman ever had. She took a sip and coughed. “Strong.”

“Them flyboys like their liquor.” Inara handed her back the bottle. Zoë looked at it a ghost of an amused smile pulling at her lips. “Guess they like funny bottles, too.”

“What is she supposed to be wearing?”

“Flight suit, would be my guess. Though, ain’t entirely sure how much flyin’ she could accomplish lookin’ as she does.”

They fell silent again passing the bottle back and forth.

"Thinkin' about settin' up shop here again?" Zoë asked.

"No," Inara said, taking another drink and shuddered slightly. The liquid was too sweet but carried a definite punch. “I’m in a little trouble. With the Guild"

"Jobless trouble?" Zoë asked, finally looking up.

Inara shook her head. “It’s nothing I can’t handle. I think I’m just on a…sabbatical for the time being until things settle down."

"They know what you been up to?" Zoë hesitated before forcing out the next word. "Miranda?"

"The Guild doesn’t know the whole story of my…involvement. I’m not really sure how they would know but I’m a little worried about some of their connections within the Alliance. I would prefer it if they not put the pieces together.”

"And if they do piece it together?"

Inara shrugged. "Somehow, my status with the Guild doesn't seem as important as it used to."

Zoë nodded in perfect understanding. “So, how is everything below decks?”

“I was mean to Simon.”

“Shame on you.” Zoë said with not an ounce of reprimand. She took another drink. “Mean like being mean to the Captain mean?”

Inara looked down at her hands. “Just snippy.”

“Why you let him talk to you like that?” Zoë asked but this time her tone indicated she was actually interested in hearing an answer. “Somebody throw those kinds of words to me and it’d be the last they say.”

Inara didn’t need to ask who Zoe was referring to. “He’s just…”

“Letting off steam? Venting? You feel the need to absorb the shit he tosses? That a part of being a Companion?”

“No. It’s just a part of being on this ship. I want to help, Zoë.”

“I know it. Just don’t think you oughta let him get away with that.”

“Like he lets you get away with the things you’ve been saying?”

Zoë nodded. “Captain knows what’s what. Still don’t make it right but…" Zoë started to take another drink but stopped. Lowering the bottle, she shook her head. “My fault. I can blame River, Simon, Mal, God, Buddha, Reavers, the Alliance, the Fruity Oaty Bar babes - whomever but can’t get past the fact that it rests on me.”

“Zoë!”

Zoë met Inara’s shocked gaze. She took a deep breath. “He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. You think he would have put up with this goh seh?”

“His choice, Zoë. No one made him do anything he didn’t want to.”

“Except stay on this ship.”

“He stayed to be with you.”

“On this ship.”

“With you.”

“If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be dead!” Zoë exclaimed looking away.

“No. You don’t know that.”

They were silent. Inara took another drink and started to pass the bottle to Zoë but Zoë looked like she was a million miles away.

“We were gettin’ ready to make a baby,” Zoë said softly - so soft Inara almost didn’t hear her.

She met Inara’s devastated look, finally accepting the bottle. “I’m nagging him about a baby. He was steady on the no. Then he gets on board for it. But by that time things started taking a nosedive for Mal. For us. I said wait until things get better.” She paused to take another drink, heftier than the others. “Now, here I am. No husband. No baby.”

“Zoë, I’m so sorry,” Inara said, cringing at the ineffectual words she had to offer Zoë. She hadn’t considered that Zoë was interested in having children.

Zoë tapped the bottle and gave Inara a rueful grin. “Look at me! Maudlin drunk! What fun is this? Can’t keep my mind straight on anything. One moment I say one thing, the next something contradictory. Not even sure if I can blame this here hooch, either.”

“That’s grief for you. You question everything. Don't know what you’re saying, what you're thinking…"

“You seem acquainted with it.”

Inara hesitated. “My mother died when I was nine.”

Zoë looked at her in sympathy. “That’s rough.”

“Yes," Inara said quietly.

“Too much grief on this boat,” Zoë said.

“Do you think things will be better with this job?” Inara asked relieved to find a different path of conversation.

“Will be for the Captain.” Zoë took a drink and looked up at Inara. She smiled - a true smile. “You should have seen him before the Valley. Things was bad as bad. But he believed. Believed we had God on our side. Nothing could make us lose.”

Inara could visualize the man Zoë was describing. She well remembered Mal standing before them all on Miranda. As he spoke, she had seen a glimpse of the Sergeant that had instilled such unwavering loyalty in Zoë. She had felt herself drawn to that unwavering belief in doing the right thing. She desperately wanted to see that man again. Not the one who took refuge in his bitterness.

Then she her thoughts conjured his smile. That damned, sincere, honest, unthinking smile he’d bestowed upon her as she gave him her nonanswer about getting back to the Training House. It had contained none of his usual smirk and made her forget she needed to get back to the Training House; made her believe that she had been wrong to run away from Serenity; made her think that Mal would allow her to help chase away the demons that hounded him. She took another drink remembering the whys of her decisions.

“And then we lost. Lost everything. Watched our comrades die slow painful deaths. Helpless to relieve their suffering. Then we lost the war. Then he found out about Shadow…” Zoë shook her head not wanting to go any further. “We need to talk about somethin’ else. Ain’t needin’ to revisit all that on top of all this other mess I’m sortin’ through.”

“Yes,” Inara said, but her gift for conversation seemed to escape her.

Zoë sat up straighter and slapped her knee. “I remember what I’ve been wantin’ to discuss with you.” She took another drink before offering the bottle to Inara. “You two been snipin’ at each other a little nastier than usual. Why is that?”

Inara shrugged taking the bottle.

“Let me see if I can suss this out.” Zoë leaned back against the bulkhead looking at Inara while she thought. “Argument centered a bit on money. Did the last time, too, if I recollect correctly.”

Inara remained silent. If Mal hadn’t told Zoë about Sunny then she wouldn’t say anything either.

“I have been wondering. Passively wondering ‘cause I got other things on my mind but time to time I wonder how he got the money to fix Serenity,” she smiled, a little loopily. “I'm even workin' my way up to caring.”

Inara took a sip from the bottle. “Really?” It was her I’m-sure-I-don’t-know tone.

“Out with it, Inara.” First mate Zoë Washburn had returned. “Where’d he get the money?”

“Do you think he would tell me?”

“Ok, here’s what I think. He borrowed it.” She waited for a response from Inara. “Borrowed it from someone in MarNew?”

Inara kept quiet but took another sip.

“Tell me he didn’t go to Sunny Dae.”

Inara took a bigger sip.

“Fay-fay duh pee-yen!!” Zoë looked disgusted and worried. “His idiocy knows no bounds!”

“She didn’t seem too bad,” Inara said knowing how stupid that sounded.

Zoë gave her an astonished look. “You of all people know you can’t pretty up someone rotten to the core.”

“I tried talking him out of it. I even—“ Inara stopped, frowning. She blamed the liquor for her carelessness.

“What?”

Inara shook her head sharply which caused her brain to spin.

“You offer to give him money?”

“Loan,” Inara said, rubbing her temples. “Loan him money. I’m not as cash rich as people assume, you know.” Inara pointed to the bottle. “And what is this stuff? I can’t think straight.”

“It’s good, huh?” Zoë grinned and took another drink. “You are out of practice.”

“Pardon?”

“If I can read you so easily. You must be out of practice. Time was I never could figure out what was really going on in your head.”

“Maybe I wanted you to know,” Inara said, her tone bordering on petulant.

“Maybe you did.” Zoë mimicked Inara’s tone but she was smiling. “Don’t worry. I’m sure your clients won’t even notice, will they?”

Even if Zoë’s smile was the smile of the mildly inebriated, Inara was glad to see it. Her happiness caused her to be a little careless-on-purpose with her words. “If there are any more clients.”

"Well,” Zoë’s look turned mischievous. “If the Guild boots you out you could always help fly the ship."

"Flying Serenity is very different than flying the shuttle."

"Yeah, you'd know about that,” Zoë murmured.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Wash taught you to fly her." She met Inara’s surprised gaze.

“You knew about that?”

“I know everything that happens on this boat.” Zoë sat back and crossed her arms. “Besides, it was a point of contention.”

“Zoë, I’m sorry. I never meant…” Inara was flustered. She never thought… “He was just teaching me some basic maneuvers.”

“Yeah, I thought it was you that taught him that little bit he started doing with his tongue…”

“Ship maneuvers!”

Zoë laughed. Inara realizing the joke laughed in relief.

Still laughing, Zoë shook her head. “You really are out of practice.”

“I must be. I should have seen that one coming.”

Zoë bounced the bottle on the mattress. “Even Naked-Lady-Bottle with her impressive tata’s saw it comin’!” She grinned and bounced the now half empty bottle to Inara.

Inara caught Zoë’s silly mood and grinned back. “Maybe I should substitute Naked-Lady-Bottle for my teapot. The clients would certainly find her…interesting.”

“Bet your clients back at the Training House miss you.”

“Hmmm,” Inara said absently. Her attention had been diverted by a loose string on the blanket. “No clients, actually.”

“No as in none?” A shrewd grin played about Zoë’s lips. “Well, well, well. Isn’t that interesting?”

Inara looked up shocked at what she had revealed. “It’s really not,” she said, wanting to downplay the meaning of her not taking clients.

But Zoë's amusement could not be contained. “Look at you with your celibacy!” She handed Inara the bottle. “Here, you may get more enjoyment from this pertness.”

They both looked at the bottle realizing as the liquid level decreased, so had the covering on the woman. Now, the bottle displayed the ample assets of the curvy woman in her almost naked glory. They looked from the naked bottle woman to each other and dissolved into a fit of laughter. Their amusement quickly turned into the out of control laughter that had a basis in something only passably funny.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”Jayne said poking his head in the shuttle. He sounded gruff and grouchy but Inara met his eye and she saw the happiness there. For Zoë.

“Girl talk, Jayne,” Zoë said, wiping her eyes. “Get out.”

“You talk girl?” Jayne looked truly baffled.

Zoë and Inara looked at each other again and their laughter bubbled up even stronger than before.

“Hey!" Jayne said, walking into the shuttle. "Can I have that bottle?”

“No!” Zoë exclaimed, pulling the bottle out of his reach. “It’s Inara’s. She needs it.”

They grinned at each other as they watched Jayne’s expression. He looked to be concentrating hard trying to sort out the why of Inara needing the curvaceous bottle.

“I feel I need it more,” Jayne said, in all seriousness.

“Go!” They said together. Their laughter followed Jayne out the shuttle.