“Can I come in?” Mal’s voice floated from the shuttle door, which he had just opened a bit.

“No.” called Inara, from where she sat on her silk covered couch, reading a book and drinking herbal tea. She returned her attention to the book, but sighed as she heard Mal’s voice again.

“Pretty please?” Mal asked, sticking his head in and grinning. Inara rolled her eyes.

“Fine.” she said shortly, her eyes resting on the pages of her novel again. He strode in and flopped himself down on a strawberry-colored chintz chair across from her, and stared at her until she finally looked up. “Something you want, Mal?” she asked politely, placing a single ribbon down the length of her book to mark her place and closing it. She set it down beside her and looked at him, folding her hands in her lap. Mal’s smile faded as he remembered what he’d come here to tell her, and nodded.

“We’re not fixin to stay on Beaumonde s’long as we figured…” he told her, ready to spring to the defensive. Inara gaped at him.

“And when did you decide this?! I have appointments, Mal! I can’t just go back on them!” she exclaimed, putting her cup down so she didn’t spill as she became agitated.

“I know, I’m sorry, but the Alliance launched a new type of security there; we’re going in, getting our payoff, and leavin’ soon as we can. Sorry Inara, but it is how it is.” he told her grimly. She glared at him before standing up and walking over to where he sat.

“Mal, I told you when I agreed to rent this shuttle that you had to keep your arrangements once you made them! This is the third time in a row, people are going to stop booking me if I have to keep cancelling my appointments!” she ranted at him. He stood up so that he was at a physical advantage, being several inches taller than her. He looked down at her and tried not to show that he was slightly intimidated. Malcolm Reynolds wasn’t going to let a Companion, of all people, get the best of him without him being willing.

“Would you rather be thrown in the sla