Notes: set post-movie.
Written for Weekly Drabble Challenge at writerverse. Prompt: cup of tea
Her shuttle was calm and orderly as it always was, as it had been Before. There were some differences: a table placed against the starboard wall where before it had been portside and the wall hangings had changed. But the essential Inara-ness had returned intact as soon as she had agreed to take possession again.
Mal hovered just inside the doorway, watching as she moved serenely through the space, just as he had nearly every evening since she had returned. Her eyes met his and she inclined her head toward the luxurious couches next to her as she set the teapot down on the low table.
He stepped inside slowly, reluctant to sully her personal space with the burdens he carried. Yet he returned night after night. And night after night, she sat opposite him and poured out cups of fragrant tea. They sat silently as they drank, neither asking nor offering anything except quiet companionship.
And when the cups were empty, he would leave, sometimes turning just at the door to find her watching him with compassion, friendship, and acceptance. One of these nights, he wouldn't be able to turn away again and leave. One of these nights, the wall around his heart built of death and terror, oppression and destruction would crack and he would crack with it and she would lead him through to safe harbor.
One of these nights.
But not tonight.