Disclaimer: Still don't own Firefly.
A/N: Around one in the afternoon, same day as "Wash". I tried to be artsy in this chapter, so that's what that wierdness is.
It was that afternoon when Karla decided she had thought too much about what she should make for dinner. She needed a break. She wasn't going to get one.
A whole chunk of her childhood had been stolen by the Alliance. Not to mention family members. Karla needed to work things out. Part of that would be cleaning her pistol so it would fire.
The rest of the crew was off doing their respective jobs. Wash in the cockpit, Kaylee in the engine room, Zoë keeping Wash company, Jayne working out in the cargo bay, Mal doing whatever it is a Captain does, and Inara… standing in the kitchen doorway observing Karla cleaning out a very dusty and disused pistol on the crew's dining table.
The prickling sensation on her neck alerted Karla to her audience. She turned her head slowly, painfully stiff neck crackling as she did.
Karla gave the indifferent looking Inara an innocent "Please, don't rat me out" look, to which the Companion smiled.
"Don't worry. You have no idea how many times I have witnessed Mal, Jayne, and Zoë doing this very thing. If the Captain has any problem with it what so ever, you will have me at your defense." Inara's voice was clear and beautiful.
Karla was never either of those things.
"Uh… Thank you."
Inara humored her with a smile and Karla was even more uncomfortable. Rich, talented, and proper people had always made her feel primal.
She giggled nervously and turned back to her gun.
"It's beautiful." Inara said simply, and Karla figured she was talking about the pistol.
Karla nodded, and, now finished un-gumming the inside of the weapon, moved on to polish the outside.
The Companion moved to sit down across from her, red and gold dress rustling against the floor. Karla felt, for a Companion, Inara did not pick up on her obvious discomfort very well.
"Did you buy it yourself?" Inara asks, trying to make eye contact with the girl who most definitely is not.
"No. Did you?" Karla is being rude. She knows it. She knows the Captain would get mighty upset about it. She wants to stop, but feels she can't.
Inara realizes Karla was commenting on her dress and answers softly. "Yes. I found it in this lovely little shop on Persephone."
Inara stops and regains composure.
"How is your first day on Serenity going? I know it can be overwhelming, being away from home—"
"That place was never my home!" Karla overtakes Inara's voice and is so loud and passionate, she forgets and looks up. The woman is waiting; calm and compassionate, and brown eyes meet blue-green ones. Karla suddenly dismisses all thoughts of hating this woman at once. She would be hard to avoid, anyway.