“That smells good,” Mal said, stepping down into the dining area.

Inara turned from the stove. “I wish I could say it was all my own work, but it isn’t. Mrs Boden is an excellent cook, and she’s put together one of her best meals.”

Mal sniffed the air. “Is that beef?”

“It is. Cooked in one of her special sauces. She’s given me full instructions, and it will be ready on time.”

“Somehow I don’t think anyone’s gonna be late for this meal.”

Inara grinned. “I’ll let Mrs Boden know your appreciation.”

Mal picked up a mug and lifted the coffee pot. “You do that.”

Inara watched him pour, then said, “I noticed Freya’s still limping.”

Mal’s hand paused, then he continued. “Yeah. Simon says it may never go fully, but … some days it’s better than others. When she’s tired or stressed it’s worse.”

“Is she?”

“Well, with Ethan and all …”

“Yes, I suppose so.” She covered the pot and put it back into the oven. “Mind if I join you?”

“Course.” He pulled the chair out next to him.

Inara poured herself a cup and sat down. “Is … is Freya all right?” she asked tentatively.

“Sure.” He took a mouthful. “Why shouldn’t she be?”

“Oh, nothing. Just a feeling.”

“Like I said, with Ethan just getting back to being …” He shrugged and stared into his mug.

After a minute of silence Inara said, “I'm sorry.”

He looked back up in surprise. “What? What for?”

“Slapping you. It was immature and entirely uncalled for.”

“Immature. Like sticking your tongue out at me.” His lips twitched.

“Exactly. I was a Companion. Companion’s don’t do that sort of thing.”

“You were. Ain't now. I think you can make up your own rules.”

“Then I should know better.”

“It’s alright, ‘Nara. And I'm the one who should be apologising. I kinda goaded you into it.”

“I shouldn’t have expected you to call me the minute Ethan got sick.”

“Maybe I should have. We’re friends.”

She smiled at him. “Friends.” She gazed at him, then added, “So why not tell me what’s wrong with you