Inara didn’t need to turn to see who approached. The measure of the clak…clak meant it was only one person. She couldn’t turn to face him, not yet. Inara would never let her self be disarmed by anyone, though Mal seemed nearly capable of it without effort. What would happen if he tried? Inara was a afraid of that day. Beneath all that fear though was a spark of a wish that he would do just that.
“Captain Reynolds,” Inara greeted him in a smooth warm tone as she looked down at the cargo bay. Captain with a capital C, Inara observed with amusement. Mal seemed so stuck on the title. Normally it was ego. Not with mal though. But, what did it mean then.
Mystery. It was what made Mal special. She had spoken of him once that he was intriguing because he was a mystery and so few men were. It had been a rare slip of the tongue for her, not a calculated statement, but that did not make it any less true.
Turning slowly, she stood with her hands demurely and submissively in front of her. “It is awfully quiet tonight,” she said conversationally as she looked around. It must have been late and the crew must have been in bed. She wasn’t rude enough to look at her antique pocket watch to learn the time.