Baptism

Inara never needed an alarm. Well-tuned, even before her Companion training, to her own circadian rhythms she always awoke early, and had come to treasure the few moments she might steal among the quiet of her own thoughts.

Now, she stretched beneath the covers and enjoyed the feel of them slipping across her arms and legs, and sighed. What she wouldn’t give to have a bath, just once, to start her day? A real bath, not some sonic-particle-spray thingee, and not a bird-bath either, with only enough water to drown a sponge.

She rolled over and let the quilt weigh upon her back and her buttocks. No: a real, full immersion bath with lovely, wet water caressing and embracing every part of her. And warm, it would have to be warm, warm enough to turn her skin from gold to pink and back again.

Somehow she’d thought life in a vacuum would be clean, but it seemed spacedust could be just as insidious as planetgrit. Some days she felt thoroughly coated in it, complete with face mask.

Just once, she’d like to start her day with a clear, warm wet bath; to rise out of the water and start afresh.