Sam waited as long as he could, until everyone else had turned in, before he headed up towards his and Inara’s bedroom, stopping outside. He was under no illusion that he’d disturb his lover entangled naked with the Captain’s wife, but what else he might find gave him pause. He raised his hand and knocked, once, twice, three times.

“Go away!”

Sam smiled and opened the door.

Freya was sitting in the armchair, cuddling what looked like a bottle of rice wine. Her eyes were closed, as if she was asleep. Inara, on the other hand, was on the bed, her head on the pillow, her knees drawn up towards her chest. She was humming something.

Sam crossed to the bed and sat down. “Hey,” he said softly, stroking her hair back from her forehead.

“Did I say come in?” she asked, somewhat belligerently.

“No. But I do sleep here.”

She peered at him out of one eye. “Okay. Point taken.” She lifted her head enough to look at Freya. “I think I broke her.”

“Is she unconscious?”

“Not sure.” Inara smiled up at him. “I didn’t drink nearly as much as she did.”

“Why did you drink at all? Why didn’t you just ask her what was wrong?”

“Because she wouldn’t have told me.” Inara yawned, not even bothering to cover her mouth. “Her walls … her defences are so strong, she’d never had admitted she was angry at Mal for nearly dying.”

“And did she?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Good. It should help.”

“I think so.”

“She also apparently taught you some new songs.”

Inara chuckled. “You know, one of them was about –“

Sam laid a finger on her lips. “I don’t think I want to know.” He slipped his hand into his pocket and came out with two tablets in his palm. “Here. You’d better take these.”

“Some of Simon’s wonder pills?”

“Mmn. He said for you to take them before you go to sleep, and drink as much water as possible.”

“How did he know we’d been …” She pointed to an empty bottle on the table.

“We heard, my sweet.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “All of it?”

“Well, the singing, anyway.”

“Oh.”