Disclaimer: I don't own Firefly, but you already knew that.
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"You know…I am a married man," Mal teased, running his hand over the smooth skin of her bare belly. "So, I guess this makes me an adulterer."
"I hardly think Saffron counts," Inara said, swatting his hand away. "Besides, didn't Shepherd get you a divorce?"
"Funny thing that—local custom says I need her pastor's permission. Can't get it since she don't have a pastor. She's not what most would consider the church-going type." He scooped up one of her hands and pressed a kiss into the palm. "'Sides, I seem to recall you kissin' my wife at one point."
This time the swat was aimed at his head. He caught her dainty little wrist. "Hey! Watch it!"
"I'll have you know I never kissed her!" Inara squawked indignantly.
"You said it yourself—you didn't fall and hit your head. You got some of that kissing stuff on you, same as me."
"I got it from you, not Saffron."
The look on Mal's face was priceless.