Maybe It Was Jayne
"Wasn't my fault."
"Mal!"
"Well, it wasn't!"
Inara stares at him, an expression caught somewhere between anger and disbelief plastered on her face. She crosses her arms over her chest and clenches her jaw.
"Maybe it was Jayne!"
She ignores him.
"Or River?" He looks hopefully at her.
She only just manages to hide the smile fighting for control of her face. "I know if was you," she says plainly.
He offers her a puzzled frown.
"Your clothes," she explains. She does smile momentarily when he glances down at his trousers and back up again.
"What about 'em?"
The seriousness of the situation hits her once more and her smile fades. "Your clothes," she says again, "are dirty. Perhaps as dirty as the length of silk you destroyed when you decided to trail it through the mud."
He blinks.
She pierces him with a single look.
"Oops?"
fin.