Firefly

[Mal is disconcerted to find Saffron in his bed, wearing only a bedsheet.]

Saffron:
But we've been wed. Aren't… we to become one flesh?

Mal:
Well, no, uh… we're still two fleshes here, and... I think... that your flesh oughta… sleep somewhere else.

Saffron:
I'm sorry. When we talked, I'd hoped, but I—

[She gestures with her hands, losing the sheet. Mal turns away.]

Mal:
Whoa, hey! Flesh. Um... Saffron... i-it... it ain't a question of pleasing me. It's more a question of what's...

[Mal, breathing heavily, strains not to look at the naked woman.]

Mal:
...um... of what's morally right.

Saffron:
I do know my Bible, sir. [Recites a fictional bible verse] "On the night of their betrothal, the wife shall open to the man as the furrow to the plow, and he shall work in her, in and again, till she bring him to his fall, and rest him then upon the sweat of her breast."

[Cut to Mal, who is openly staring now.]

Mal:
Whoa. Good Bible.

. . .

Mal:
...it's been a while—a long, damn while—since anybody but me took ahold of my plow…

. . .

[Saffron stands up from the bed and slowly approaches a stunned Mal.]

Saffron:
If I'm wed, I'm a woman, and I'll take your leave to be bold. I want this. I swell to think of you in me.

[She looks down.]

Saffron:
And I see that you do, too.

Mal:
Oh, th-th— that's just, uh...

Saffron:
Leave me at the nearest port. Never look upon me again. I'll make my way with the strength that you've taught me. Only let me have my wedding night.

Mal:
[resignedly] Oh, I'm gonna go to the special hell.