Mal-Inara, Infirmary.

[badinlatin]

Mal's walking, to add to the 'talking' bit he's been doing since he woke up after Simon patched up the wound which landed him in the Milliways infirmary. He had asked Inara to go out and get something to eat - for the both of them, because asking something for himself is the only way to get her to leave sometimes - and gets up, digging out a shirt from the pile of clothes someone brought over for him. He leaves the shirt untucked, and gives up on suspenders for the day.

Comments

[badinlatin]

"Hmm. I guess." Return smile, another forkful of stirfry.

"Mmm. Goo' st'ff."

[ff-ambassador.livejournal.com]

"It is, though I would prefer not to see it in your open mouth," Inara admonishes, flicking a piece of rice at him.

[badinlatin]

Mal catches the grain of rice on his tongue after a minute adjustment of impending trajectory (read: He reached out and caught it, then placed it on his tongue), and beams triumphantly.

[ff-ambassador.livejournal.com]

Inara rolls her eyes, but can't help laughing. "You do realize you are as mature as a five-year-old, don't you?" she says through her laughter.

[badinlatin]

"I am not the one in the room throwing food."

Win.

[ff-ambassador.livejournal.com]

She sniffs haughtily, and picks up another forkful of rice, bringing it to her mouth. But before it gets there, it somehow is flung at Mal. Funny how that happens.

[badinlatin]

:O!

"Doc's gonna be mad when he sees you muckin' up his infirmary."

[ff-ambassador.livejournal.com]

Slow smile. "It's worth it." Another couple of grains sailing Mal's way.

[badinlatin]

Mal has no chance to deflect, and the rice sticks on one cheek.

Pout, Mal. Pout.

[ff-ambassador.livejournal.com]

Inara giggles at both the look on Mal's face and at the rice sticking to it. She's giggling too hard to keep any rice on her fork.

[badinlatin]

Mal laughs too. It feels nice.

Except for that aching pain where he got shot, but y'know. That'll go away eventually.