They lay in repose, each wrapped in the others arms, listening to the steady rhythm of their hearts beating in time. Their physical passions momentarily sated, they basked in the warmth and emotion they shared.

"Tell me about your childhood," she whispered in the dark. "Tell me who you were before you became who you are."

"Well," he shifted slightly to look into her deep brown eyes. "What do you wanna know?"

"Everything," she said with a sly smile.

He gazed at her, his trust in her absolute, though he didn't think it would be possible to ever trust again. He sighed, a deep rumble in his chest.

"Well, let's see. I guess you'd say I was mischievous, precocious my mama used to say, but a good kid. Trouble just kinda found me. I never went looking for it. Much." He flashed her a roguish grin.

She laughed softly. "Some things don't change."

"Yeah, well, it ain't my fault the Feds like to pick on quiet businessmen such as myself." He adjusted an imaginary bow tie.

"No, of course not," she giggled.

"At any rate," he continued, "I helped mama with the kitchen work until I was big enough to help with the cattle. I worked the herd everyday with the men-folk 'til they were more than just hired hands; they were uncles and brothers as anything. I'll never forget the first time I got to help drive the herd to market. Must'a been about 10."

Her incredulous expression gave him pause. He reclined against the pillows of the headboard, his excitement in storytelling animating him.

"Now, you gotta know I could ride almost as soon as I could walk. I'd been waiting for this day. So, we mount up, ready to drive about 200 head to town. It's supposed to be an easy 3 day ride, what with all the slow moving heifers. We're not a full day in, can still see the sun glintin' off the tin roof of home, when a late season storm explodes above us. Now, cows don't mind the rain much, but they don't take to thunder, especially when they're in unfamiliar territory. It took every man working like 3 to wrangle that herd, and 5 hard days to get them where they was going. By the time we got to town half of us had the chill, and the other half had the fever. But we didn't lose a single head."

He sat back from his tale, a smile widening at the memory. She watched him with amusement, absently curling her fingers across his chest.

"Do you miss it?"

"Huh?" He reluctantly pulled away from the memory and covered her hand with his.

"Your world. Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. I miss the little things, like the smell of the first rain on the dusty soil, or falling asleep to a chorus of crickets. I miss the wind howling through the tree in the yard."

"What about your mother, and all those hired men?"

"'Course I miss mama, but she was gone before I left for the war. Fever took her." A shadow crossed his face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."

"I know." His hand trailed the length of her tresses. "Some things aren't easy remembered, but they're part of us."

She nuzzled closer into him as if to shield him from his hurt. She felt rather than heard his sigh.

"My mama woulda' loved you. She didn't cotton to women being weaker than men. She ran that ranch better than any man could. She thought that being strong and independent and smart was the way women should be, not all meek and helpless like most girls on that planet. Yeah, she'd'a thought you could handle yourself proper, and that was the highest of praise from her."

He lost himself in her eyes before losing himself in her kiss, warm and deep, full of promises for the future and solace for the past. Slowly, he pulled away from her lips only to hug her tighter, breathing in the scent of her hair as it brushed his face, holding her as if she could disappear at any moment.

She curled against him, immersed in the feel of his body wrapped around hers. She felt at once complete and vulnerable, safe and stripped bare. So many times she had laid like this, wrapped tightly in the arms of a client, but never had she felt so naked – stark, bare, having nothing to do with her lack of attire. She shuddered at the thought. So many men, not one of which she loved, nor had they loved her. Her skills, her training, years of experience could not prepare her for this night, this man who loved her completely.

He felt her shiver, confusing her insecurity with a chill, reached for the duvet. When he turned back to her he saw the glisten of tears stream from her eyes.

"Oh, hey. What is this?" he said gently, searching her eyes.

"How?" she choked as the tears continued to fall. "How can you love me? I'm not ashamed of who I am or what I've done. It's all I've ever known. Can you accept that? Can you still love me?"

The silence stretched between them as he turned her words over in his mind. She pulled away from him, covering herself, anticipating his answer. He sat straighter, his posture mirroring hers.

"Could you leave that life?"

"Is that a condition? You'll have me as long as I am no longer a companion?" Fear and anger fought for control of her expression.

"No." He said it so softly she almost missed it. He cupped her chin in his hands and brought her eyes to his.

"No, it's not a condition. It's a question. I guess I thought you could retire, assumed you would want to..." His voice trailed off having lost its confidence.

"But... Why? Why would you think...? Or dare to assume...? This is my life. This is who I am." Her anger rose as she did with cat-like grace, standing naked in front of him, insecurity forgotten.

"Please." He reached for her, and she hesitantly resumed the bed they had shared. "I don't know your world, your rules. You know I can't give you what your clients can. All I've got is this ship." His frustration punctuating his inability to put his thoughts into words. "I love you. Always have. Didn't feel right, you not here. If you still want to see clients, continue being a companion, I ain't got no call to stop you."

"What are you saying Mal?" She was cautious, not letting herself hope.

"Stay. Retire, or whatever it is you have to do, so long as you're on Serenity. I can't promise you money or station, but I can give you a home."

His eyes were pleading, hoping she understood. She studied her hands, so small and delicate in his. A girlish laugh tripped from her lips. He stared, stunned as her laugh rang through the room. She broke into giggles before she saw the look of terror that crossed his face.

"Oh, Mal," she said, calming herself. "I've tried so many times, and never found the words. The time was never right. And now you've done it for me."

He looked so confused she felt almost cruel.

"If you'll have me, I want to stay. Serenity has been the only real home I've ever known."

"And your clients? The guild?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck, twirling her fingers in his hair, bringing her forehead to his, her hair creating a veil around them.

"Malcolm Reynolds. You want me to quit? Give up my life, my world, to be with you?"

"Yes." She had barely finished her question before he answered.

"I guess it's a good thing I retired, then."

She laughed, her elation echoed in his passion as he lay her down, kissing her as to drink her in.

"When? How?"

"A few weeks ago. I had to contact the training house and relate my plans. To my luck, the house priestess accepted my wave, and agreed that it was time. I retired with full acceptance of the Guild."

"Stay with me," he moaned into her skin. "We'll start new. Share a life, a history, all our own."

"What about the crew? What about Serenity?"

"She'll keep flying. She always does."

"Join you in this life of petty crime?" she teased. "How could I resist?"

He considered her mirthful countenance. How could she resist, indeed. He pushed away from her to look her full in the face. His serious expression stilled her amusement.

"Mal?"

"Inara." He took her hands with a gentle touch, at peace for the first time in so long, and smoothed a wisp of hair from her cheek. "Be my wife. Marry me."

She saw the resolution, the tranquility in his eyes. She wondered if he at long last had left Serenity Valley. She lightly kissed his hand, holding his palm to her cheek. She breathed in the scent of his well-worn hands, considering every hard-earned callous. She mentally pushed aside every reason she shouldn't, refusing to acknowledge such thoughts existed. She peered into his eyes as a single tear streaked down his cheek.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Okay?" He stared, processing.

"Uh-huh," she nodded.

It was his turn to laugh. He pulled her into his arms. "Then, as captain of a ship, having nothing to do with the grand Alliance, I declare you my wife."

"In that case, you had better start kissing your bride."

"Don't mind if I do," he breathed, enveloping her in their first kiss as husband and wife.