Inara rubbed tiredly at her eyes and pulled herself up to a sitting position. "Ching jin," she called, as her intruder pounded on the door again. The knocking stopped short and there was a small creak as the shuttle door swung open.
"Hey, Inara," Mal grinned cheerfully at her. Moving inside, he took up his usual position on the couch and retrieved a strawberry scented candle from the wooden table in front of him.
Inara rolled her eyes as he began to play with it and forgetting about her current choice of clothing – a thin, red garment that was perhaps a little more revealing than most – elegantly rose from her bed, headed over to the couch and snatched the candle from Mal.
"Hey!" He grunted in protest. Inara shot him an irritated look as she placed the candle back in on the table and he fell back, defeated.
"I presume there was a reason for your visit, Captain?" Inara asked, finally realising her limited clothing. She retrieved a matching nightgown from the top drawer of her dresser and slid it on, pulling it tightly around her.
Mal nodded. "Yeah, we seem to have gotten ourselves a little trouble," he explained, a mischievous grin spreading over his face. "Or you have, anyway."
Inara waited for him to continue, but he remained silent. "And, what would that be?" she finally inquired, sitting down beside him. If there was trouble, why was he smiling? Inara thought to herself, curiously.
"Well, it seems that your people sent down a wave. Wash took a message for you…" Mal hesitated, sliding his hand into the left pocket of his brown coat and fumbling around for something. "…and here it is!"
He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a scrunched up slip of paper clenched firmly between two fingers.
"The Guild sent a wave?" Inara asked, still digesting.
"Sure did!" Mal grinned. "Seems they don't want your services anymore."