Inara sat in her shuttle brushing her thick dark hair. Mal had just left after entering without knocking as always. He'd had some flimsy excuse for coming to see her. She knew he just liked to see her, to be in her presence.
Men are so obvious sometimes.
Mal hid it better than most, but he wanted her. Inara respected him for controlling his feelings; it was hard for men to do that sometimes. But she couldn't love a man who saw her as an object. A prize to win. Even if he only saw her as a women.

Inara almost laughed out loud. Someone with her profession thinking something like that. But it was true. Inara layed the brush down and samk into her bed. She didn't know when she had begun to separate feelings of love from being a Companion. Although they had taught her on Sihnon that being a Companion had little to do with love, she'd been an idealistic child. She dreamed of falling in love, but her teachers and one too many broken her hearts had slowly begun to change her. Somewhere along the way, she learned that love didn't always come with sex, or other Companion duties. The hard way. She supposed they had done her a favor; she had learned to hide her feelings and act how she need to act on the outside. It was what made her such a good Companion. Companions looking for and needing love didn't last long. They ended up settling down with a nice man somewhere. Now Inara could never do that.

She loved the freedom this ship gave her. If she couldn't have love, at least she had that. Her thoughts turned to the rest of Serenity's crew. She thought about Zoe and Wash. They had love, real down-to-earth love, not just a fairy-tale romance. Part of her wanted that, wanted someone she could love and trust completely in her bed beside her. Someone who was there for the right reasons, who was comletely devoted to her, and someone for whom she could return that devotion. She didn't think that person existed.

She thought about Kaylee, and River and Simon. Kaylee thought she loved the young doctor. Well maybe she does. Simon likes her too, but he's too devoted to River. Maybe someday. She even spared a thought for Jayne. Mercenary Pig. Yet, she had to admit there was more to him than that, though very little. Just like there's more to Shepherd Book. She remembered when she had first met him. She had mentally dismissed him as a simple holy man. He would take every opportunity to turn her from her "evil ways." He would be distant and stand-offish unless he was preaching to her.

But he had surprised her, and that was intriguing. He took her profession in stride, trying to fellowship her nontheless. It felt real; he was only trying to be her friend. And she watched him struggle with his faith. She watched him grow, and was glad that she could be there for him. He wasn't like other men. He didn't pursue her like Mal or stare at her like Jayne did. He wasn't nervous in her presence like the poor doctor, nor did he treat her with the comfortable comeraderie that Wash did. He still gifted her with some reverence. And she liked that. I've never met anyone like him. How often can I say that? Maybe he's the one.

Although he was old, he wasn't a weak man; she had watched him lift weights with Jayne. Nor was he powerless. He knew things that Shepherd's shouldn't know. She wondered if the Shepherd was just a disguise, but no. He was too sincere, his trials of faith, too real. She had seen him use a gun, justifying it's use. She wondered if he would come to her, if he would "use" her. She wanted him to. But she knew that he wouldn't, and that was why he appealed to her so much.

There was a man for her, but he was destined for no one. Oh well. I've lived without love my whole life. At least I can be with him.