Inara Serra was looking for a fight.

It had been months since Miranda, months since Malcolm Reynolds said more than two words to her.

And she was tired of it.

She was elated when he told her "good answer", happy that she was staying.

Since then, there was nothing. He spoke to her only when spoken to, he never burst into her shuttle and as much as it irritated her, she missed it terribly. She found herself looking to the door, sure that she heard his footsteps.

She stopped taking clients after she slipped once, calling out his name when it should have been the name of Lionel Banks.

Luckily, Lionel Banks didn't notice.

She worked for years on her control-it was the first and last lesson at the Training House.

She had better control than that.

He hadn't noticed. She waited, for weeks after the Lionel Banks incident that she had suddenly stopped making requests for civilized planets, yet he hadn't said a word.

He didn't even call her a whore.

Inara Serra was looking for a fight.

Anything was better than the silence.

She proceeded with her dressing ritual, selecting an outfit that she noticed he paid much more attention to than the others-the sapphire blue skirt with gold thread embroidery paired with the midriff-baring matching gold shirt that she wore the very first day she stepped on Serenity. She styled her hair, making sure every curl was in place before putting on her veil.

"Preparing for battle."

Inara turned around, startled by River's intrusion. The girl, like Mal, never did learn how to knock.

"River, honey. Is there anything I can do for you?"

"Wearing down the Captain. Make him confront you. Doesn't want to. Scared you'll go away. Tired of fighting."

She screwed up her face, frowning. "It doesn't stink of sex here anymore."

She walked out, rather, danced out. Inara felt clumsy watching River walk-the girl had the grace of the most professional dancer.

She seemed more normal, happier now. At least, she talked in coherent sentences.

Inara went back to her task, wondering which lip color to put on. She smiled, thinking of Mal's previous brushes with lipstick, deciding to leave it off.

She outlined her eyes in kohl, frowning at her shaking hands. It was just Mal. She'd known him for almost two years now.

Two years, four months and three days.

He probably wouldn't notice. He would just stare right through her, something he did often since Miranda.

All of these pains, for nothing.

She stepped into her embroidered slippers, sapphire to match her skirt. She looked herself over, looking in the mirror.

Perfect. Flawless.

He would find a flaw.

She walked slowly, wondering what she was doing. She was nervous, her stomach uneasy. She wondered, for the first time since she had come up with the plan to fight with him early in the morning when she couldn't sleep, if it would actually work.

She lost more confidence as she walked towards the dining area of Serenity. She couldn't make him fight with her. She could only hope that he would rise to the bait as he'd done in the past.

"Hello, Mal," she greeted him cordially.

"'Nara," he grunted, not looking up from cleaning his gun.

"I don't expect much in the way of manners, out here in the black, but the least you could do is look at me," she snapped.

She hadn't meant to start out this way. She wanted it to be a chess game, of which she held the upper hand, but she had given that up, snapping at him like a shrew.

He looked up at her, the fire she was hoping to find in his eyes was gone, replaced by the stark blackness that faced them outside Serenity.

It scared her. Mal wasn't looking at her, a shell of him was.

She turned, practically running from the dining room, her eyes threatening to spill over the tears that she had been fighting back since Mal looked up at her.

"'Nara! You alright?" She'd run into Kaylee, coming out of the infirmary looking suspiciously disheveled.

Well, at least someone was being loved, Inara though.

"I'm fine," she told Kaylee, thankful that her veil was over her face so Kaylee couldn't see the kohl that was sure to be running down her face.

Kaylee peered at her, trying to see past her veil. "You don't look fine. You look upset. Was Cap'n bein' mean again?"

NO! Inara wanted to shout. Anything but.

"Just his usual self, these days. I promise, I'm fine."

Kaylee frowned, obviously not believing her, but finally relenting.

"OK. If you're sure. I'm always here, ya know, if you wanna…talk."

"Thank you, meimei."

Kaylee smiled, waving good-bye as she went to her room.

Inara went back to her shuttle, the tears freely running down her face now. She couldn't stop them, didn't want to stop them. She wanted to get rid of this ache in her heart that she had ever since she found Mal with her best friend.

He looked so peaceful there, sleeping with her. She wished she had that, didn't realize how much she wanted it until that moment. She'd considered it, sure, in her weaker moments. But she thought she had time, thought that she was the one he was waiting on, that it would be on her terms.

It never occurred to her that he could find comfort elsewhere.

So she left. She fled, just like she fled Shinon, hoping to find some peace in teaching.

There she was just filled with the romantic fantasies of the young girls, fantasies of burning buildings and rogue pirates.

She threw a discarded silk wrap across the room, where it flew and fluttered onto her Persian rug.

"I always liked that color on you. Doesn't seem right to toss it on the floor like that."