A.N. Yes it's more Mal/Inara fluff, because who needs Chilean beaches when you can write fanfic? Blame Spacegirl32 who begged for more… I have about three others coming.

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The bed next to Inara went cold, drawing her out of the deep sleep she’d been enjoying. She sighed and rolled over to the empty, still-warm half of the bed where Mal had slept next to her for the first time. He was already up, sitting on the red couch, pulling on his boots, but she expected no less. This was Mal after all. This was them. There was a serious bit of history and animosity between them that couldn’t be erased just because they spent a night in the same bed. She stretched contentedly under the covers, earning an apologetic smile from Mal. Why apologetic?

“What time is it?” she asked, stifling a yawn out of proprietary habit, but wanting to sleep again. She hadn’t slept properly since before the Operative had shown up at the Training House.

“Near midday,” he answered matter-of-factly, pulling his suspenders over his shoulders. “And I have lunch duty.”

Inara smiled, and then frowned, the implications of the previous night washing over her. The nothing that had happened between them very rapidly became everything. Her fears were being realized. Serenity suddenly felt like a prison to her. Love held her captive. He would expect her to stay now. When the others saw him leaving her shuttle, they all would assume and expect her to stay. What else would he expect? Would he expect her to give up her profession? He’d always despised her work. She’d always despised his. Would he make equal sacrifice for her? How, then, would Serenity survive? She had no delusions – it was the illegal work that kept her beloved home in repair.

“Don’t be scared,” Mal soothed, sitting on the bed, his hand cradling her face. Inara looked at him with anxious eyes, vying to control her breathing. When had it become so ragged?

“I’m not afraid,” she insisted, sitting up and turning away from him. The pewter knight sat on the end table, mocki