Gently placing the lid down on the teapot, Inara picked it up with one hand and the china teacups with the other, and motioned for Dean to follow her. She led him into the living room, where she placed the tea things on the low coffee table and sank gracefully onto a cushion, inviting him with a tilt of the head to do the same.
Once they were both sitting, Inara's legs crossed delicately under the skirts of her tunic, she reached out to lift the teapot. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know," she said gently. The teapot tilted, pouring the tea into the tiny cups and releasing the sweet scent of jasmine into the air. "I've been fine," she admitted. "Restless. But," the teapot touched the table with a soft clink, and her eyes rose to hold Dean's gaze, "we both know you're not here to talk about me."