She likes to go into the medical bay, sometimes, when there's no real sick that need tending but the good doctor's there in any case, setting out supplies or just adjusting what he's already got - instruments always neatly aligned, creating an order and reason out of pills and bottles and shots. He doesn't need to do it, not really, because soon as someone really does get hurt the whole place is turned upside down with Simon's haste and the crew's anxious, meddling fear. But when there's nothing to do save worry after his sister, Inara sees him come down here, rolling up bandages with quick and capable hands. All in all, then, she's not that surprised the first time she catches herself wondering what those surgeon's hands would feel like on hers.
River's been appropriated by Mal for a while, and Inara can tell Simon doesn't know what to do with himself - that's the most likely explanation for why he's ended up in her shuttle, at least.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I don't want to intrude."
"Not at all." She smiles. "You shouldn't worry about River, the captain will look after her."
"Oh yes, I can't think of anyone more suited to looking after my psychotic baby sister," he replies with a humorless laugh, then sighs. "No, that's not what I-- she'll be fine, I know."
He sits stiffly on the edge of her bed, hands twining together with restless energy. Inara sits next to him, pushing her hair over one shoulder and laying a hand over his. "Is everything all right, Simon?"
He looks up at her, and she's struck by the vulnerability in his eyes, something she's yet to see.
"I'm not sure I know what that means any more," he says. His fingers start playing along the lines of her wrist, and her breath catches - something that hasn't happened in a long time now. "Inara..."
There's apology and hesitancy in his tone, and she reaches out and brushes her fingertips against his parted lips.
"I-- I don't mean to, I don't want you to think that--"
"Hush," she tells him gently as she draws him close and closer still, until his mouth finds her and he finally breathes, soft and sweet against her skin, as one slender hand reaches up to rest at the nape of her neck, feeling just as Inara knew it would.
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She likes to go into the medical bay, sometimes, when there's no real sick that need tending but the good doctor's there in any case, setting out supplies or just adjusting what he's already got - instruments always neatly aligned, creating an order and reason out of pills and bottles and shots. He doesn't need to do it, not really, because soon as someone really does get hurt the whole place is turned upside down with Simon's haste and the crew's anxious, meddling fear. But when there's nothing to do save worry after his sister, Inara sees him come down here, rolling up bandages with quick and capable hands. All in all, then, she's not that surprised the first time she catches herself wondering what those surgeon's hands would feel like on hers.
River's been appropriated by Mal for a while, and Inara can tell Simon doesn't know what to do with himself - that's the most likely explanation for why he's ended up in her shuttle, at least.
"I'm sorry," he mutters, "I don't want to intrude."
"Not at all." She smiles. "You shouldn't worry about River, the captain will look after her."
"Oh yes, I can't think of anyone more suited to looking after my psychotic baby sister," he replies with a humorless laugh, then sighs. "No, that's not what I-- she'll be fine, I know."
He sits stiffly on the edge of her bed, hands twining together with restless energy. Inara sits next to him, pushing her hair over one shoulder and laying a hand over his. "Is everything all right, Simon?"
He looks up at her, and she's struck by the vulnerability in his eyes, something she's yet to see.
"I'm not sure I know what that means any more," he says. His fingers start playing along the lines of her wrist, and her breath catches - something that hasn't happened in a long time now. "Inara..."
There's apology and hesitancy in his tone, and she reaches out and brushes her fingertips against his parted lips.
"I-- I don't mean to, I don't want you to think that--"
"Hush," she tells him gently as she draws him close and closer still, until his mouth finds her and he finally breathes, soft and sweet against her skin, as one slender hand reaches up to rest at the nape of her neck, feeling just as Inara knew it would.
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