Not so very fluffy.

Mal. Inara.

Rated G.

Set post-BDM.

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Say Hello When You're In Town

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Grey skies. A drizzle in the air, so light it was almost a mist. And cold. Cold that creeped up the sleeves of one's arms all the way to the back like a ghost touching.

But the grass was so green it nearly blinded the eye, screaming with life. Here, of all places.

Only in the Core...

She didn't startle, exactly, when he laid a hand on her shoulder. Must have expected him. Not like he took pains to stay hidden since getting out of that rikshaw.

Paid an arm and a leg, too. "Follow that one," like a cheap flick off the cortex.

Not like there was a lot of cover here, neither. All grass and paths of snowy white.

He hadn't known what to expect. Wasn't this.

"We're going where?" Spoken too quick, voice too rushed, something... something... Wouldn't meet his eyes over the table.

"Next stop Sihnon. Best update your fancy dress shopping list."

Stared into her tea like she couldn't see the tiny ripples from her shaking hands.

"'Nara? Something wrong?"

Never did answer.

She had ought to be shivering, thin coat like hers. Maybe some fancy insulating Alliance fabrics.

Or maybe she was beyond the cold, staring down. Her hair was hanging loose and curling in the too-wet air. Nothing like refined.

His free hand went up to her other shoulder. Thumbs took to drawing circles, gathering moisture on their pads.

She didn't pull away.

He shuffled closer, a step, so he could speak it into her curls.

"Was yours?"

Felt the nod against his lips.

"Goin' someplace?"

He'd been waiting for it. Twitching, might say, with the possibilities. Could be anything she left behind. Anyone.

Floated right past him, down the ramp. "I have an appointment."

"Not exactly dolled up." Simple dress. More shockingly, sensible shoes, solid and leather. Clean, of course. "Clients