Mal was royally humped. Might as well have been bent over a barrel for the King of Londinium himself, he was that royally screwed.

It was those three buttons that were his undoing. Three buttons barely holding closed the top to Inara's satin shortie pajamas as she sat curled in one of the mess chairs, drinking tea.

She'd smiled at him softly. Leaned forward to give him a cup of tea.

And that was when he noticed the top button. Or rather, what was above it, being most of her chest.

Which, inevitably led to him noticing the second button, neatly placed between the gentle outline of her nipples against the satin. He wondered just what it would take to make them stand out more sharply.

Once that second button had been noticed, it was really just a hop, skip and a jump to the third one, behind which peeked the bow holding up her shorts.

He'd tried - Mary, Mother of Jesus, he'd tried - not to think about that bow. Or rather, undoing that bow. Which only led to him thinking up imaginative ways of doing so.

His favorite was using his teeth to gently tease out the bow. She'd get all squirmy and giggly at his warm breath tickling her bellybutton and other places further south. He liked the notion of a squirmy, giggly Companion.

Three buttons and one bow were the only things holding his self-control in place.

Not much to go on, really.