She's never called him Hercules before, always referred to him by his title out of respect, and he's never pushed the issue. He calls her Inara when they're alone or Miss Serra when speaking to others, and it's been perfectly fine.

Hearing her call him by name and feeling her touch him makes him roll his lips together and hold his breath, because otherwise he feels like he's going to shake apart.

"I-I don't know."

Being this emotional over a dog should make him feel ashamed, but there's not a dry eye to be found in the small cluster of people who've gathered around the door to the operating theater, watching as everyone's favorite bulldog gets put under anesthesia, a vet from down on Terpsichore video conferencing and advising the doctors on what to do.

"They're doing exploratory surgery. Doctor Lee thinks it could be a brain tumor."