"Ready?" Mal leaned in the doorway of the infirmary and smiled.

Inara, sitting on the bed with her legs over the side, looked up at him. "Sorry."

"What for?" He stepped inside.

"Shouting at you."

"Were you shouting? Thought we were having one of our usual light conversations."

"I was shouting. And I said some things that I … well, I regret."

"Like what?"

She dropped her head to stare at her hands. "That I thought you thought I was stupid."

"Now, I'm pretty sure I ain't never said that." He crossed to the bed, standing close enough to get a touch of her perfume.

"No, but I …" She shook her head. "You told me once I was very graceful. Well, I wasn't today."

"Hey, we all have our bad days. Mine tend to be when I get shot, but I'm more than grateful that wasn't the case here. A broken ankle's a helluva lot better'n getting bloody."

Her head shot up and she glared at him. "I should have been more careful!"

"Yes, you should. But these things happen. And I never said you were stupid. 'Cept maybe in your giving up everything for me." He held a hand up quickly. "And I'm grateful. Believe me when I say that. I know what it's cost you, and I … well, I am grateful."

"Is that it?"

"Is what what?"

"Just grateful?"

"No, not just that. Of course not just that." He lifted a hand, touching her cheek, and she could feel the calluses on his fingers. "It's only … this is taking time. For me, 'Nara. I'm only just coming round to the realisation that I ain't alone any more."

She grasped at his fingers. "You haven't been for a long time."

"So I've been told. But it takes something bad to make you realise it."

They stayed silent for a long moment, memories of Wash and Book coming up between them, then Inara shook herself.

"Simon got those out for me." She pointed to a pair of crutches leaning against the counter. "If you can pass them to me …"

He leaned over and picked them up. "You mean you're not going to let me carry you?"

She stared at him. "Up those flights of stairs? You'd fall and break your neck. And probably mine."

"Then how about we just get you to a guest room?" He shook his head. "'Cause there ain't no way you're gonna be getting up those stairs either, not 'til you've had some practice using those things."

"A guest …" She was appalled. "But all my things, my clothes … my … everything's up in the shuttle, Mal."

"Then I'll bring 'em down. And if you don't like the idea of me seeing your fancy nether garments, I know Kaylee'll do it for you."

"I … that's not the point."

"Every single little bit of frippery is just a few yards away. We forget something, it's only the work of a minute to get it for you. And I know River'll be glad to help."

"I will," came the young girl's voice from outside in the common area.

"You listening in on other people's conversations?" Mal called.

"Everyone on this crew does it," she pointed out.

"You mean me."

"Of course."

"Don't."

"Spoilsport." She appeared in the doorway. "Just when things are getting back to normal …" She drifted away, shaking her head.

Mal glared after her then turned back to Inara. "So, come on. What's wrong with one of my perfectly good passenger dorms?"

"That's just it."

"What?"

"What you called it. 'Passenger dorms'. 'Guest rooms'. It makes me feel …" Her voice trailed off.

"Like you're not crew?" She nodded, and he was shocked to notice something like moisture in her eyes. "'Nara, when've I ever said –"

"I know!" she interrupted. "But you implied it once. When we were arguing over Saffron, and you …" She sniffed.

"I don't know," he said thoughtfully, shaking his head. "You barge into my life, taking over my shuttle – for less than I had intended at that, I might add – and generally lording it around the place –"

"I don't lord!" She looked most affronted.

He hid a smile. At least she didn't look like she was going to cry anymore. Hit him, maybe. But not cry. He couldn't take that. Might just end up weeping on her shoulder himself. "Well, no, okay. But you did gyp me out of a quarter of the rent."

"And I saved your life. Your liberty, anyway. More than once."

He had to agree. "Okay. Yeah, I'll give you that one." This time he let the smile show. "But that's it, don't you think? Only a member of my crew'd do that. And climb down into that disposal bin to get the Lassiter before Saffron did." A thought struck him, something he'd always wanted to know. "How'd you manage that without getting all … messy?"

She raised one eyebrow at him. "Talent."

"Figured maybe it was at that." He put his hand on her shoulder, feeling the softness of her skin through the clothes she wore, and telling his body to behave. "So, crew. 'Kay?"

"Okay."

"Then let's get you out of here, else Simon'll have my hide."

"Really?"

"I think he's got some idea of getting Kaylee alone in here."

"I thought they'd already done that."

Mal grimaced. "Don't. I walked in on … well, let's just say the young doc's pretty muscular. All over."

"Were you staring?"

"Had my eyes closed the whole time."

"So you know he's muscular … how?"

"I'm captain. I don't have to say."

"River's right. You are a spoilsport."

He held out the crutches. "Come on," he said, a chuckle in his voice. "Let's get you someplace a bit more comfortable."

Trying to control what amounted to three legs, only one of which belonged to her, was surprisingly difficult, and Inara had to admit that Mal was right. There was no way she would have made it up the stairs, not without help and a great deal of luck. She was already panting when she reached the open doorway.

Mal kept a close eye on her as she negotiated the step, hopping in a rather ungainly fashion over the lip. He could see a slight sheen of perspiration on her top lip as she dropped onto the bed.

"See? Finest room in the 'verse," he said, trying to make her smile.

"I can see that." She sighed heavily.

Taking the crutches from her he placed them in the corner where they wouldn't fall, and turned back to her. "You'd better lie down."

"Is that an order?"

"Well, seeing as you're crew I could make it one. But at the moment, no, I'm just suggesting it."

"Then … okay." She went to lift her legs onto the bed, but the extra weight of the cast made her unsettled and she banged it on the frame. She whimpered.

Immediately he was there, gently raising her leg, turning her at the same time so she could lie down. "There now," he said, as if he was talking to a wild animal. "No need to take on so."

"I wasn't."

"I know." He smiled, the one that went all the way to his blue eyes, softening them. "You get some sleep, and I'll pop back –"

She reached out a hand. "Don't go!"

"What?"

"Don't go." She stared at herself as if her arm didn't belong to her, and dropped it back to her side. "I mean … what if I roll off the bed? Shouldn't there be someone to catch me?"

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" he asked, his eyebrows twitching.

"I just … stay." She had given up trying to play the part, and just let out what she wanted. "I need you to stay, Mal. Even if it's only for a while. Here. With me." She patted the bed. "Please."

"Don't you think that might compromise you? You know, if someone happened to pass by and looked in."

"You could close the door."

"You think you're safe? Being alone with me? Here?"

"Mal …"

He grinned, looking like a little boy caught in a naughty act, and slid the door shut. "Anything else you'd like, Miss Serra?" he joked.

"Yes. You. Here." She moved over, leaving just enough room for him to lie down.

"Yes, ma'am." Unbuckling his gunbelt he laid it on the small dresser, then slid onto the bed. "You know, I may not be able to keep my hands off you."

"Then I'll scream."

"Really?"

"Probably not. But I don't think you'd get very far."

"Why? You wearing a chastity belt?"

"Yes. It's called a plaster cast and it's around my ankle." She looked down at her foot and sighed. "This is going to be embarrassing."

"Why?" He swung his legs up so he was lying against her, and settled back onto the pillow, one arm behind his head. The other automatically went around her shoulders, and she snuggled into his chest, as if she'd been doing it for years. "Just two friends, giving each other mutual comfort."

"Is that what this is?"

"'Nara, you already said I can't do anything else."

She glanced down his body, and smiled. "I get the feeling you'd like to."

He followed her eyes. "That's just … I'm a man," he explained, a faint pink tinge to his cheeks. "And you are a very beautiful woman. And that scent you're wearing … it makes me … Hell, I'm a man, Inara."

"I think I've got that. And I'm not wearing any perfume, Mal."

"You sure?" He leaned forward and sniffed. "'Cause it smells like … like cinnamon."

"I haven't got any perfume that smells of cinnamon."

"Really?" He took another deep breath. "Only it's like the buns my Ma used to make when I was a kid, on special occasions. Birthdays, Christmas and the like. Loved those buns."

"Honestly, I'm not wearing perfume."

"I'd'a sworn …" He shook his head. "So what did you buy?"

"Sha muh?"

"Today. At Maison Chic." He shook his head, unable to control the slight twitch of his lips. "And that surely must be something of a comedown, going to a place like that."

"Have you ever been inside one?"

"Hey, where'd you think I got that frock from when we were on Triumph? Think I borrowed it from Jayne?"

She paused for a moment to get the mental image that produced out of her mind. "There must have been some odd looks when you asked for a dress your size." She snuggled closer, unaware of the fact that her cast was rubbing his leg.

Not that he was going to move. Not now he had her right where he wanted her. Bruises he could live with. "Said it was a gift. For my mother. Said she was the same height, and around the same measurements as me."

"Did you try it on?" she asked. "Only I would have paid to see that."

"Sure I did. Paraded around the shop fancy as you please, seeing if it made me look fat," he lied blithely.

"You? Fat?" She shook her head. "I like your love-handles."

"My what?" He sat up, looking down at her. "You saying there's –"

She laughed, a soft sound that eased him amazingly. "No. I like a man with something to get hold of."

"Oh, you got that right," he said, laying back. "Definitely something to get hold of."

"I meant in the body area."

"So did I."

She pinched him. "You are incorrigible."

"'Fess up, Inara. That's why you love me." He was teasing, but as soon as that word left his lips he tensed up.

"I suppose it must be," she said quietly.

He waited for a moment, waiting to see if she made a joke, said something to change it, anything except lie there and accept it. Finally he gave in, not being able to take it any more. "So you love me?" he asked, an odd catch in his voice that threw his natural tone an octave higher. There was no response. "'Nara?"

He looked down at the woman in his arms and realised she'd fallen asleep. Her lashes were resting on her cheeks, and her mouth was slightly open, and she was most definitely asleep.

"Only I kinda wanted to know," he went on, barely whispering. "'Cause I realised a while back that I've fallen in love with you."

He sighed. Now if only he could say it when she was awake.