A.N. Thanks to AgentOmega and BlueEyedBrigadier for the beta work.

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“One. Two. Three. Draw!”

Mal drew his weapon at about a quarter speed, watching and laughing at Inara across the room who was fumbling the same motion (except she was at her top speed). She was dressed in glossy black pants that flowed over her legs like a skirt and a matching top that was trimmed with black beads and showed off her midriff. After their last stop planet-side, when she’d been accosted by an ex-client, Mal decided it was time for her to start carrying a weapon, so he’d bought her a sleek pistol and holster. Mother of pearl inlaid into a hand-carved ashwood handle. Metal mirror finish with fancy engravings mimicking the beautiful waves of her hair. Lightweight, but strong. He wasn’t quite sure how the gift had gotten the two of them into his bunk, practicing her draw, but it was absolutely hilarious. Not to mention, good for his ego.

“Draw!” she cried out, drawing the weapon a fraction of a second faster than him. “Mal, you can’t let me win,” she complained when he held up his hands in surrender.

“I don’t want you getting discouraged.”

“I need to know what to beat.”

“You’re getting faster each time,” he encouraged, holstering his weapon, positioning his hand for the next count-off.

“Mal, come on. Give me your best.”

“Don’t tell me how to teach. I know you didn’t give me your best when we were dueling with swords.”

“You only had the one night to learn!” she protested, holstering her pistol and flexing her fingers. “Plus, your life was in danger. This is just practice, and I want something to beat.”

“Alright. So count already.”

Inara shifted between two feet, staring him down, her middle finger touching the butt of her pistol. “One. Two. Three. Draw!”

Mal’s hand whipped like lightning, drawing his weapon and pointing at her, before she had even closed her fist around her own gun. Inara’s jaw dropped and she stared at him a moment, breathless.

“Impressed?”

“That’s something to beat,” she nodded