A/N: Hello from San Francisco where it's midnight, I am jamming to soundtrack scores (Treasure Planet, hip aren't I?) and pleased to say I am immersing myself well into the orient culture for this fic saga... because I live like five mins from China Town (and I have decor in my room Inara would be proud of, except the chinese dragon marrionette on the wall and star lanterns are very Kaylee). China Town had the Moon Festival today, it was fun and crazy and apparently traditional Chinese costumes, lion dances and beautifully wailing erhus make me think of Firefly.. and fiction.

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They were going to be in trouble.

They knew it, their clandestine exit from the bunk hall, how they spirited away in a coltish manner, quiet yet giggling along the way. Chasing one another, the night of Saint Valentine's a romp up the mountain to their schemed location, the only one following them a cross eyed cat that was too attached to stay in bed. Once upon the desired piece of real estate, blankets were spread on dewy grass, laughter turned to heat, heat led to un-monkly things. Clothing removed, celebrating of young love commencing under a starry sky till they were tired and dozed under blankets, huddled for heat. Only when they awoke did they contemplate repercussions because it was the middle of the afternoon.

Contemplation only lasted the width of an instant.

He bowed his head and pressed his nose to her cheek, smelling her as his arm held her by the waist, hand petted the smooth skin of her torso, and his mouth brushed against her face. The sun was warm and enveloping.

She smiled, for young love felt true and unending and just his touch was enough to make her curl her toes.

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“You’re going to hell for this.”

Mal straightened his coat out. “Buddhists don’t believe in hell.” He replied flatly, it was mere fact than statement.

“Then you’re coming back a single celled organism.” Inara countered, beautiful enrobed, yet weary