5

Saffron was as listless as ever, lounging across her narrow bed and counting the minutes down to when she'd slip to the canteen and bring back some barely edible excuse for lunch. Her legs dangled off the edge of the bed and she kicked rhythmically against the metal siding, entertaining herself.

She was pleased at Inara's response to her query yesterday. She'd half expected the austere woman to balk at the suggestion, but she hadn't looked too offended. She'd even seemed intrigued. She could still say no, but Saffron enjoyed the possibility that she'd go for the unusual arrangement. She heard in her mind the sugared voice of her old handler, Lady Delosse: Darling, a closed mouth never gets fed.

While Saffron had no insecurities about her ability to perform, she was enticed by the opportunity to seduce a Companion. It would be an achievement in its own right to bring such a being to nirvana and back. Could you call it bragging rights if you didn't intend to tell another soul? She loved a secret.

Saffron was torn from her musings by the sound of the portal hissing open: Mal stood on the other side of the door, his hand resting on the keypad. Two visitors in two days? she thought. I hope I'm this well liked in Beylix general population.

Saffron snapped to a seated position, her back straightening to push her chest forward. She saw Mal's eyes flicker downward for the barest moment before looking away and clearing his throat.

"I'm here to inform you that we'll be servicing your docking port in a few hours. You're to stay in Inara's shuttle in auto-orbit. Don't get excited, her shuttle is perfectly thief-proof and encrypted."

Saffron's heart rate soared, but she remained unmoved.

"I see. And Inara is okay with this?"

"She has to be, if she's interested in staying on my ship. But yes, I did affirm with her."

"Okay," she said. "Let me know when I should prepare my things."

"You've got no things in order to prepare, my lovely wife, but you'll be leaving immediately following lunch. Please meet Inara in her shuttle bay, with a promptness."

Saffron nodded slowly, looking up at him through lidded eyes. He looked as though he might speak before making guttural sound and turning to leave without ado. God, she loved toying with him. It was almost too easy to get a rise out of him.

The portal door hissed shut behind him. She stood from her bed, smoothed her skirt and tugged at the hem of her shirt. Peering into the barely-reflective mirror on the wall by her bed, she mussed the strawberry red tresses, attempting to primp life back into her looks. She pinched her cheeks and bit each lip hard with her teeth to bring the blood to the surface. That would have to do, she supposed.

Saffron left her shuttle, heading toward the kitchen with a skip in her step. She was relieved to find that most of the crew had already taken their lunch. Only Shepherd Book remained at the great wooden table, quietly reading his Bible. He nodded his head kindly toward her, but otherwise paid her no mind as she ladled scotch bonnet soup into a tin bowl. Returning to her shuttle with the bowl and a cup of the strong ale, which the crew brewed and continually replenished out of a barrel in the cargo bay, she quickened her pace.

She did not get nervous, as a rule, but couldn't prevent her stomach from flip flopping at the thought of how she and Inara would fill the time in orbit. She couldn't imagine that this was a coincidence, but a small anxious part of her worried she would still reject her advances. She vowed to let Inara lead pace. Besides, Saffron obviously had no problem playing the submissive.

She finished her unsatisfying meal and bore another look at her reflection before making her way toward Inara's shuttle bay on the opposite side of the ship, through the narrow compartment and down the hall. Mal and Inara were both there, standing an uncomfortable distance from one another. The tension was palpable, and Saffron guessed that even they didn't realize it was sexual tension. She caught the tail end of their conversation as she rounded the corner.

"I understand that, Mal. I just think you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous? It's ridiculous for me to give half of a goat's ass about my crew?"

Their argument ended abruptly as Saffron entered, only emphasizing the fact that they were talking about her. Let them talk, she thought. If she'd wanted to screw them over, she would have done so already.

"Don't stop on my account," she simpered. Mal looked bad tempered.

"Saffron. Right on time." Inara's voice was back to its pleasant timbre.

Saffron nodded demurely before looking up at Inara, studying the woman's face for evidence of conspiracy. They exchanged a heated look for a bare second, unbeknown to Mal, which confirmed Saffron's suspicion: Inara had accepted her solicitation.

——