He had managed to keep his reactions under control at first. There was no reason for her to have remembered him; it was only the once, and several years ago. But Simon had never forgotten Inara.
Not only her beauty, but her grace was unmistakable. Simon almost felt the air change when she entered the cargo bay that first time. He had caught his breath, shocked beyond all telling. Of all the disreputable ships... who would have imagined that Inara Serra would have been on this one?
A flare of angry recognition when she glared at him over Kaylee's prone and bleeding body. But what choice did he have? Simon gambled and won that time, and tried to make it up by skill alone. Digging at the hurt, sewing it up, neatly as possible. He would have done it anyway; Kaylee had been nothing but kind to him from the first moment he saw her. But Inara's presence drove him to perfection; he wanted to show off, he guessed.
After River's unveiling, after all the explanations in the galley, Inara gave him a flash of hope. Perhaps she not only remembered, but cared? Defending him from that kuang of a captain had to count for something.
Simon ignored the pain in his jaw, the tender flesh around his eye. He found Inara's shuttle by trial and error, and knocked, hesitantly, just like he had knocked on her room door three years ago.
She opened, just as before, timeless and regal and concerned. Her hand was cool on his face, her lips warm on his. Simon sighed into her mouth, pulled her close for one exquisite moment, and reluctantly let her go. Inara remembered him; that was what he needed to know. That was enough for now.