“Where’re you off to this time of night?” Mal asked, stepping into the cargo bay from the infirmary, just finishing his last rounds.

Jayne settled the collar of his favourite thin-striped shirt. “We ain’t leavin’ until tomorrow, are we?”

“No. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Well, ‘less you need me, there’s a house I’ve been to before. Not far from here.”

Mal was about to ask what kind of house when the mental light went on in his brain. “Right. Well, don’t do anything likely to get yourself pinched.”

“Not intending to, Mal.”

The Captain of Serenity went up the stairs towards his bunk. “And make sure you’re back in time to load cargo,” he called over his shoulder. “I don’t pay you to get that kind of itch scratched.”

Jayne grinned and stepped down the ramp. “Tzao gao,” he said, shuddering to a halt. “What’re you doing here, moonbrain?”

River stood in the light from the bay. “You don’t need to go,” she said wistfully.

“You get to your bed,” he said. “Shouldn’t be out here. Ain’t safe.”

“Who for?”

He shook his head. “You go inside. I got places to be.”

“Miss Buford’s.”

“How’d you – you stay outta my mind!” He glared at her.

“They can’t give you what you need,” the young psychic put her head onto one side. “Only physical.”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s all I want,” Jayne said, stepping past her. “Easier that way.”

“You know that’s not true.” Her voice followed him into the darkness.

Crazy girl, he thought as he strode towards the lights of town. Always being in the way, getting on his nerves like she did. Everywhere he turned, there she was, her big eyes gazing at him, that dark hair hanging over her face. After he’d given her that clip, too, couple of Christmases back. Never wore it, just let that curtain hide what she was thinking. Damn girl. Getting into his brain like that, rummaging around like she was going through his drawers. Not that it would be that much fun for her if she did, considering what he kept in ‘em. He grinned briefly. ‘Less she was into girlie magazines. ---

The music reached out to him, and the smell of cheap whisky assailed his nostrils as he pushed the door open into Miss Buford’s. He inhaled deeply, and felt a sense of tranquillity go through him as he looked around, seeing the girls draped over men of all ages, or sitting at the bar, chatting idly.

“That Jayne Cobb?” came a dark voice, all welcome and lascivious charm. Miss Buford moved forward, her small face broken into a smile.

“That it is,” he agreed. “Been a while.”

“Too long.” Miss Buford took his hand and shook, her grip surprisingly strong for a woman her size, dwarfed by the big mercenary. “You staying for long?”

“Just tonight. Got work to do, but I needed a little female-type company.” He glanced around the men and women in the room. “Brenda still around?”

Miss Buford shook her head. “She upped and got herself married, half a year back. Some farmer who kept coming in, very persistent. I think she just said yes to shut him up. Got herself a kid already.”

“Very persistent,” Jayne agreed. “So who else’ve you got?”

“Coupla new girls, if you’re looking for something different.”

“What kinda different?” He looked down at her, his blue eyes glinting.

“Well, there’s Lysette and Vi, both of ‘em fairly new to the business.” She led the way to the bar, signalling the man behind to open a bottle. “And then there’s Hannah. She’s a little more different than the others.”

“Don’t want someone who don’t know what they’re doing.”

“They’re good girls,” Miss Buford insisted. “Course if you’re looking for something brand new –“

“Like I said, I need someone who knows what they’re doing. Don’t have the time to take to teach a girl what I like.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I was only gonna say I ain’t got any at the moment. Not ‘til the transports come next month.”

“I won’t be here then,” Jayne said, tossing back a glass of whisky. “Well, guess it won’t hurt to take a look.”

The diminutive woman smiled and clapped her hands. Thee young women peeled away from a group sat at the back, and came to stand in front of them.

“Girls, this here’s Jayne Cobb. He’s a good man, even if he don’t know it, and he treats women with respect. Most of the time. Just don’t expect him to kiss ya, ‘cos he don’t do that.” Miss Buford looked at Jayne. “This here’s Vi,” she said, pointing to a well-endowed blonde, her long hair brushing her waist. “Very energetic, is Vi.”

Jayne smiled at her, putting his charm onto full. “Vi.”

“Jayne,” she said, grinning at him. “Good name,” she added. “For your father?”

“Vi,” Miss Buford warned.

“That’s okay,” Jayne said. “It’s just a name.”

“And one day I’ll get you drunk enough so I can find out how you got it.” Miss Buford smiled and turned to the second girl. “In the meantime this is Lysette.”

Lysette had soft brown hair in curls, and her lips were full and red. She didn’t speak, just curtsied slightly.

“Pretty,” Jayne said, “but not my type.” She looked like she’d be too timid for a man like him, like maybe he’d break her in two. Not that he hankered after rough sex particularly, but he wanted a woman who’d give as good as she got. And he could give it real good …

Miss Buford flicked her head, and Lysette melted back into the gloom. “Well, then, that just leaves Hannah.”

Jayne turned to the last girl, but the smile froze on his lips. She was slight, dark hair falling beside a pale face, her eyes wide and piercing. She was looking at him as if she could read his thoughts off the back of his mind …

He shook his head, not just in rejection but trying to clear a different image from his brain. “No,” he said, reaching for Vi’s hand. “This one’ll do fine.”

Miss Buford nodded. “A good match,” she approved, handing over the bottle of whisky and a key. “Top of the stairs, second on the left.”

Jayne grinned, his discomfiture forgotten, and pulled the girl to him. He looked down into her grey eyes. “That right?” he asked. “You energetic?”

She pressed her hand against his buttocks. “Just wait and see.”

“Come on then.” He laughed and led her upstairs.

In the room Vi poured two generous glasses of alcohol, handing one to Jayne and sipping the other. “Miss Buford says you don’t kiss?”

“Not on the mouth, no.” Jayne threw his drink down his throat, feeling it burn raw, a welcome heat building in his belly, matching that just a bit further down.

“How come?”

“You always ask so many questions?”

“If’n you don’t ask, how do you ever find things out?” She pushed him back into the large armchair, straddling his lap. “If you want someone who don’t need to ask, you should’a tried Hannah.”

Jayne stopped his exploration of her legs. “Nope.”

“Not your type either?”

“She’s too young,” he said, knowing it was just an excuse.

“You saying I ain’t?” Vi put her hands on her hips and glared down at him.

He mentally shook himself, and put on his smoothest grin. “Now would I say that to a lady?”

Vi laughed, her bountiful assets jiggling delightfully in front of his face. “Were you born talking all sweet?” she asked.

“Reckon I was,” he agreed, his hands continuing their travel up under her skirts. “My momma always said I came out with the gift.”

“But you didn’t tell me why you don’t kiss on the mouth.”

“Does it matter?” he asked, tweaking the corner of her panties and sliding his large finger underneath.

She took a sharp breath. “I guess it don’t.”

“Don’t mean I don’t kiss elsewhere.”

Vi laughed and pressed herself down against him. “Sounds like we’re going to have a fun night.” She started to unbutton his shirt.

Within a very short while they were naked, on the bed, drinking more of the whisky.

“If you’re trying to get me drunk, it won’t work,” Jayne said, his lips pressing down her throat.

“Ain’t looking for that,” Vi said, stretching her head back to give him better access. She groaned slightly as his head moved down. “Miss Buford wants us to give good value, not roll customers.”

“That’s why I come back when I’m downside,” Jayne said, running his tongue around her nipple.

“Then let’s not talk …” She lifted her hips toward him.

He grinned and put his hand on her belly. “Ain’t never had much truck with words myself.” He pressed down between her thighs. “Ain't hardly ever have to use ‘em.”

And stopped.

“Jayne?” Vi asked, looking into his face. “If you’re having problems, I can help.” She put her hand down his chest, running through the mat of hair towards his groin, but was surprised to find him as aroused as he had been when she’d slid his pants from his hips.

“I …” He shook his head. No way he was going to say he’d had a flash of someone else, someone with dark hair falling across wide eyes. “No, no problem.” He blinked hard, then looked at the long blonde hair across large, firm breasts. “No problem at all.” ---

It was still dark when Jayne walked up to the Firefly, pulling the door open and stepping through into the bay.

“You didn’t stay,” River said, perched on top of the EVA locker.

“Thought I told you to get to bed,” Jayne said, not surprised, not any more.

“I wasn’t sleepy.” She slid down onto the floor. “And neither were you. You usually stay. Wrapped up in someone warm.”

Jayne lifted the door back into place and went to go past her. “What I do is my own affair, girl.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“What?” He glared at her.

She didn’t answer, just gazed into his eyes, her own filled with regret, then she turned on her heel and ran away.

He watched her go.

“It weren’t you,” he said softly. “It was Hannah. Not you at all, moonbrain.” Now all he had to do was persuade himself to believe it.