Inara caught herself fidgeting with her cuffs again; the plain salwar kameez and knitted sweater felt heavy and rough against her skin. Self-consciousness about her appearance was a new feeling for her – one she did not particularly enjoy. She forced her hands to stillness, squared her shoulders and stepped into the kitchen.
Mal saw her first. She couldn't quite read his expression.
Jayne saw her next. "What are you wearin'?"
Mal looked away, busied himself setting the table.
"Clothes, Jayne. Since you're wearing them, too, I'm going to assume you're familiar with the concept."
"Yeah, but you're all covered up. Ain't that against the rules?"
Kaylee elbowed him as she passed with a stack of plates. "Don't listen to him, 'Nara. I think you look real shiny."
"Thank you."
"It's the why of it I'm not gettin'."
"Mal wouldn't let me go on supply runs with Kaylee because of my clothes. So I found something more appropriate."
"Any supplier worth his salt would've charged you twice as much as soon as he saw your fancy getup. Companion-y skills or not."
"Well, now I look disreputable enough to blend in, I'm sure."
"Don't know that I would go that far."