River’s landings are smoother than Wash’s. None of them ever say it aloud (not even Jayne—a sort of miracle in itself), but it doesn’t make it any less true. They can’t say she’s a better flyer, not yet. She hasn’t been tested the same way Wash has. Things on Serenity have been calmer than usual these last few weeks.

Inara knows it can’t last. Peace never seems to with Mal. Sometimes she’s sure the man goes looking for trouble. That’s the way of his world.

She swings her legs idly back and forth, resting her chin on her hands and staring down at the cargo bay where her bags rest neatly side by side.

Heavy footsteps fall behind her. She doesn’t turn around.

“They full or empty, Inara?”

“Does it matter?”

She hears Mal heave a sigh from behind her. He settles himself down next to her, throwing his legs over the edge. “You ever gonna give me a straight answer one of these days? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m getting tired of playin’ these same games.”

“Sorry, Mal. I don’t have any better answers for you. I still don’t know.”

He grumbles a few choice words in Chinese. She ignores him.

“Have you talked to Zoe lately?” she asks.

“Might’ve.”

“I’m worried about her,” she says. “But I’m afraid we were never that close. Still, it’s clear that she’s in pain. She loved Wash very much.”

Mal straightens, back going rigid. “We’ve had words.”

“Ahh, words,” Inara says. “How warm and kind of you, Mal. Giving words to the woman who’s lost her husband.”

“Careful,” Mal says quietly; a tone she recognizes. “Zoe and I have a way. You fight in a war with someone long enough; you get to know a whole manner of things about ‘em. Don’t tell me how to talk to her.”

“Fine,” she says stiffly. “I was just concerned, that’s all.”

Mal drums his fingers along the metal railing and doesn’t look at her. “I always said shipboard romances were a bad idea. Never end well, you know. Messy. Get in the way of things.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Know so,” he says. “Seen enough of ‘em in my time t