Nothing had changed. The revelation rolled through Inara’s mind as she tested its truth. Nothing had changed, except a small piece of paper. A license to work with which she’d imbued her self worth for no other reason than that it declared her value and social standing as an official fact to the outside world. Her mouth was opened slightly, kept from going slack-jawed by sheer force of will. As the minutes passed, the stunning realization confirmed its truth over and over again in the simple and steadfast way that Mal looked at her. Nothing had changed. Except…

Mal’s hand was still entwined with hers, tentatively holding on, probably more out of worry than affection. She knew he’d never seen this side of her, and yet, this was how he’d always seen her. The real her. The woman whose worth was independent of her profession, her title, and a silly piece of paper. When he’d called her ‘whore’ all those years, she’d deflected it with the belief that it wasn’t true. But when she’d called him ‘thief,’ he’d deflected it with the knowledge that his worth wasn’t wrapped up in such a title. He’d never seen himself as a hard-hearted criminal; he’d always believed himself a noble thief and somehow that was enough. She was starting to understand.

“Nothing has changed,” she murmured. The words were leaking from her lips constantly, it seemed, fueled by the knowledge that Mal saw her the same as before and loved her the same as before. That he had loved her at all before. That he’d said it now. She shook their joined hands, testing the strength of the bond. Solid.

He gave her hand a light tug and started them walking through the ship, no destination in mind. His eyes were locked on her, but her eyes were all over the place, still trying to process things.

“You love me,” she told him slowly, her voice soft with residual surprise. Her mind was processing very slowly.

Mal shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Well, maybe a bit. I thought you were gonna … leave … again.”

Inara smiled,