Mal knew every inch of his boat, every creak and groan she made. Might not be able to know why she was makin’ that noise like Kaylee did, but more often than not, he’d be the one to tell her to check on that odd rattle he’d heard.

So it should be perfectly natural for him to set himself the task of getting to know Inara on every inch of his boat as well. Kept himself a list in his head of all the various ways they’d do the deed.

And after each time, he’d cross that one off the list.

Seemed easiest to start on the bridge, with him in the copilot seat and her straddling him, dress bodice undone and skirts all in disarray. Riding him like a bronco, with him bucking up into her.

From there, just down the hall to his bunk, where they’d first taken the tumble just a week ago. Returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak. Hopefully, this time, he’d be a bit more graceful and not almost go sliding off that bunk that was really not meant to be big enough for two. Or bang his head on the bulkhead at a very inopportune moment.

Next stop would be the mess, with that lovely big table where they had shared plenty a cup of late-night tea as whatever this thing was between them had gently blossomed. He’d set her right on the edge of the table and then draw those pretty silk delicates down her body. She’d wrap those long legs around his hips, urging him onward.

After that’d be the engine…no, wait. Scratch that. That was Kaylee’s realm, and somehow knowing that she and the doc had… Nope, just too creepifyin’ for words.

Now the infirmary, on the other hand. That had all manner of fun possibilities. Not the least of which was the knowledge that they’d gone and mussed up the domain of that fussbudget doc. Main examining table seemed the most likely. He’d lay her out on that table. Lift her legs up over his shoulders as he worked himself inside her.

The couch in the common area was next. Her seated and him hovering over, bracing himself on the wall behind them. Or maybe have her lay back as he let his mouth