****Response to Kaynara's Challenge about 'what would Inara nickname Mal?' in Tayeatra's "Tea?"******

Nickname of Contention

The first time she did it, Mal had nearly dropped his spoon into his soup.

The second time, she had merely chuckled and left him staring after her.

Now he could have sworn he had heard her wrong. He had been walking to the kitchen, a cloth in one hand, balancing a tray with his gun and cleaner in the other. He had figured on getting a good session in out of the way of everyone else before they touched down in Persephone, and Inara's chastisement about guns in the kitchen had done nothing to deter him.

Now though, he had ground to a halt and stared at the smiling woman curled up in a chair on the other side of the table where he had been about to work. Her bow lay on the table before her, rags and small tools decorating the surface. Strangely, the sight didn't disturb him but the words and her grin behind them did nothing for his turning stomach.

" Dubiqui ?" he asked as he managed a few more steps into the room. Inara gave him a perfectly normal look from her dark eyes, a look they had been sharing more and more often. Warm and bright. Long moments just being in each other's company, touching but not touching...talking without words...had changed some dynamics of their relationship. A few fumbling attempts at a kiss had made them nervous of each other and he had almost given up.

Made his stomach turn but he wasn't about to be deterred by her wiles.

What wiles though...

"You heard me," she answered, reaching out and grabbing another rag.

Mal shook his head and set his gun down on the table where there was room. "'Fraid I didn't. Run it by me again."

Inara's lips gave a twitch upward. "I said, "I beat you to using the table. Go elsewhere, Snookums." "

"Say that last part again," Mal said, blankly staring at her.

"Elsewhere?" Inara countered innocently as he leaned on the table. "Snookums?"

"That's the third time you've called