This was written for a random prompt challenge at my lj, and I like it enough to share here. *g*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~

Set right after "Trash".

Rated PG

Fluffy.

Prompt: Mal/Inara. None of it means a damn thing.

~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Play A Player

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat on the floor, legs folded and eyes closed, obviously meditating.

Perfect timing, in other words.

Mal strolled in with a bounce to his step, thumbs hooked through well-worn suspenders.

"So, Inara..."

It was a little disappointing when she didn't startle. Indeed, open eyes didn't seem to be a requirement at all. She just remained as she was.

"Are you dressed again?"

He chuckled, planting himself a few feet from her in a solid, haughty stance. Trying to stop bouncing on his heels.

"A Companion oughtn't be shy of a body in its natural state of undress, now."

Serenely, she raised her brows. "And I am not."

Well. No need for idle palaver.

"You see..." The pause was very deliberate. "I had myself a little chat with Saffron on the way to Haymer's floaty island."

And Inara frowned, eyes still closed. For a split of a second only but it was worth a triumphant grin because he knew she'd hear it in his voice.

"Turns out, I was a little off track in my assumptions regarding her previous stay aboard this ship."

Now she looked at him. All calm in a way that could only mean she really wasn't.

"Were you?"

He nodded. Once. Waiting for her to go on.

She just blinked back at him. Not playing.

Killjoy.

"Ain't nothing to be ashamed of, Inara." He added a little whine to his voice. The irritating kind. "I'm a pretty fella. S'lots of women woulda taken advantage of the situation to kiss me."

Oh. He baredly contained a gleeful giggle, watching a blush creep up her face. This was good .

But instead of sputtering, she just stood up, all water-like. And shrugged. With one shoulder.

"It's not like the feeling is entirely unreciprocated.