He took her to dinner. He was mostly healed, just a twinge now and again from the bullet Simon had dug out of him, and he insisted. Wore his best suit, the one they'd cheated Badger out of good money to buy, along with Kaylee's pink layer cake. Course, she didn't wear anything like that. She was in some gold and black outfit that skimmed her body and made him think lewd thoughts. As they sat down in the main body of the restaurant, and he picked up the menu, he wondered what they would talk about.

He took her to dinner. She'd tried to tell him it wasn't necessary, that they could talk quite happily over tea in her shuttle, or coffee in the galley, but he ignored her. He booked a table at a place Simon recommended, and told her after the fact. She wanted to be angry with him, to tell him he didn't have the right to just announce they were going out, but then he'd winced as he stalked down the stairs, and she didn't have the heart to shout at him. She'd made some comment, just to keep things on an even keel, but she ached for him. But only because he was hurt, of course.

He looked at the menu, noting the prices next to food he couldn't even begin to pronounce, and mentally walked through the cash in his pocket. Maybe if he stuck to something simple, he wouldn't need to make a run for it. Not that she'd run anywhere. In those shoes it didn't look like she could walk, let alone break into a canter. Not that it stopped him wondering what her toes tasted like. Probably a lot better'n the stuff they served up on the plates here.

The restaurant wasn't as high class as many she'd been in, but she knew it was more than he could afford, and she wondered whether she should have made sure she had money on her. It should have occurred to her that he would want to bring her to a place she would feel comfortable in, even though he would feel out of place. For a moment her mind wandered to where he did feel comfortable, to the rusty ship they called home, to the star-strewn night that stretched away to infinity, and she knew he would have bundled it up in a red ribbon for her if he could have. As that wasn't within his power, he'd brought her here.

He watched her surreptitiously, his head bent over the menu but his eyes lifted. She was deciding what to have, that much was evident, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Didn't look like she should be doing that. Not a Companiony trick. Too much the woman he'd begun to see flashes of. Flashes that sent heat through him and made his dreams throb with the waking. Did she still wear that little red number in bed? He'd seen it just the once, a glimpse one morning as she moved around in her shuttle, not knowing the door was open. He'd knocked. Eventually.

He was watching her. Even if she hadn't caught him, looking at her under that fringe that had fallen over his forehead, she'd have known. She could feel his gaze, and it was warming her. She'd worn this dress because it was one of her favourites, something not too expensive, but that made her feel womanly, appealing.

He could see her skin. Above the top of the dress. Two soft mounds that moved as she breathed. He found his own lungs expanding in time, the rhythm taking him into world where there was just them. He'd stood back as they entered the restaurant, and he'd caught a fragment of perfume as she walked by him, her head erect, her bearing so absolute, and he wondered where she'd put the scent. Behind her ears? On her wrists, maybe? Or perhaps in a warmer, more intimate spot.

She wished he hadn't rushed her. Although that was her own fault. Her bed was piled high with dresses, each one discarded because of a minor fault, usually for displaying too much flesh. Or too little. Or too sophisticated. Maybe that was why she'd finally chosen this one. She'd never worn it with a client, she realised, and perhaps that was the point. But it meant she'd had to hurry with her finishing touches, and she'd forgotten her perfume. Not that he'd notice.

They looked up, caught in the moment as they gazed into each other's eyes, then she smiled.

"This was a mistake, wasn't it?" she said softly.

He swallowed. "Mistake?"

"Coming here."

He shrugged, relieved it was the restaurant and not himself she was unhappy with. "I kinda thought … some place away from Serenity … you might want to …" He pulled himself together. "If there's another place, somewhere maybe a bit more fancy –"

"I don't have to be anywhere else." She reached out and put her hand on his. "It doesn't matter where we are. It's you I want to be with."

"Really?" He looked like all his Christmases had come at once. Then his brows drew down – someone was threatening to take away the presents. "Only I know I ain't the kinda man you're used to …"

She laughed, a gentle sound that was natural, unforced, and tickled him from the soles of his feet all the way up. "I think I've got used to you. And this isn't necessary."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

He grinned at last. "You wanna get out of here? Go for a walk, maybe?"

"In these shoes?"

"You could … you know … take 'em off. If you wanted to," he added hurriedly.

"Take …"

"It's kinda fun, you know. Walking through grass with bare feet. And I saw a park just a little ways off."

"It's dark, you know," she pointed out.

His little boy grin flashed again. "All the better for folks not to be watching us," he said.

"And what might they be seeing?" she teased.

"Oh, just the most beautiful woman on the planet walking around with no shoes on."

Their eyes locked.

"You are incorrigible, Mal."

"Kinda hope so, Inara."

And he was right. It was fun.