After being hit with a plot bunny stick (Damn bunnies hit hard), I have decided that I have more material than what I originally conceived as a 5-7 chapter fic on courtship. Therefore, it's been renamed New Haven.

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"Don't be ashamed." Mal held her tight, against his chest, the embrace protective. "But don't do that again 'neither. You deserve better treatment, and I ain't gonna have you go show leg for dirty money."

Inara's independent streak tried to show through her ignominy, but it was hardly a squeak instead of the usual roar whilst the tears cascaded down. "Mal, I'm capable of making my own decisions. It's my body."

"Yeah, but you ain't a whore."

She pulled back, reading his face with some humor. "Really? You're telling me I'm not a whore?"

It was obvious he was dumbstruck for saying that. Caught in his own crossfire he tried to cover it up. "Yeah... you uh... you ain't...."

"Thought there wasn't much distinction between my profession and prostitution...." She wiped her eyes with a finger, composing herself simply because of his slip up.

"Well there ain't....." he squinted at her. "You're above that sorta work. You know.... ya had papers..... and... title.... and all that stuff made ya somethin'..."

"Something?"

"Yeeeah. It uh... gave ya all that dignity 'n confidence you so hubristically flaunted... this don't.... and you ain't gonna do it." Exhaling through his nose, it was clear he had problems trying to get to his pint. "You're worth more, you can do other things." Mal gave a smug look, the right side of his mouth pulling up. "Hell I'll have Kaylee throw ya in one of her grease monkey suits and she'll teach ya about widgets."

Inara gave an eye roll, and a tight smile as her fingers patted Mal's chest. "No, no.... I'll happily assume the roll of den mother."

"That's an onerous job."

"What can I say. Someone has to keep you up."

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Kaylee squealed.

The prairie weather could turn on a dime, and