Unlike Jayne, Mal had never much seen the point to just hiring a whore if it was only for the physical release. That's why God gave a man at least one good hand. Not to mention that the last time he'd lain with a whore, it had ended disastrously for all concerned.

So why was he still here? He should simply pay the girl for the time he wasn't going to use, make an excuse and slink back to Serenity and his bunk to ease matters in the way to which he had been accustomed.

She smiled at him - a smile so practiced it was meant to convince a man otherwise. Except her's was not quite as convincing as Inara's. Hair a shade or two lighter and eyes the wrong color.

She made quick work of his clothing before shedding her own dress. A bit nervy. Not as artful about it as Inara would probably be, but enough to know that a man would find her all manner of pleasing. Mal had to admit, she was indeed pretty. Looking at her, his body had to agree. Skin the color of summer peaches and rose-pink tipped breasts. Not as curvy as Inara, but just enough for him to fool himself into believing otherwise.

Mal inhaled her scent. Gardenias. Not quite Inara's scent. A bit more innocent. But it reminded him of Inara's scent of jasmine. Not a great deal, but just enough.

She had all the right moves underneath him. Knew how to stroke him until he was so hard he couldn't not bury himself inside her. How to respond when he sucked on her breasts or gently bit down on her neck. How to beg him to go faster and harder. How to cry out herself when he finally emptied himself inside her.

Girl put on one helluva convincing show.

Just enough so that he could almost convince himself it was Inara, but remind him that it wasn't.