Two dozen of ‘em at least, all on display on that one street. All shapes, sizes and ages. Redheads, blondes, brunettes and even one with purple tresses. Some were prolly fresh off the farm, thinking city life would be better, while others were seasoned pros.

A veritable candy store for fellows who had an urge to get their pole greased.

With only two things in common. They all spread for coin and not a one of 'em was Inara.

The first bothered Mal rather less than it should, while the second...

He hoped to hell Jayne was already well-ensconced inside one of those cathouses, with some whore playing cowgirl on him. Last thing he wanted was to deal with Jayne knowing that he was...

What?

Desperate enough to actually consider paying for trim?

Tired of his right hand as his only relief when his dreams of Inara got too vivid and too real?

Old and lonely, just wanting to feel another human being next to him, even if it was only by the hour?

He almost didn’t care about the sex itself. Just to actually *be* close to someone for once, rather than having to be Mean Ol' Cap'n Mal.

Who the hell you foolin', Reynolds? You’re here for the same reason as every other male. You are a horny bastard with a raging hard-on and tired of jerking off all by your lonesome. How low the mighty have fallen.

A curly-headed brunette gave him a wolf whistle from one of the open windows where she was lounging in a short satin robe that showed off legs up to there.

"Hey there, Soldier!"

Mal shielded his eyes against the noonday glare with one hand and pointed at himself with the other, in the classic "you talkin' t' me?" gesture.

"Yeah you, Handsome! You look like a man lookin’ for company."

It had been longer than he cared to say since he’d been called good looking. Not since Nandi, which may have just as well been longer than he cared to say.

Mal put on his very best "shucks, ma’am" voice.

"Thank you kindly, miss. But I’m just looking. Not here to buy."

She uncoiled herself from the window ledge. She looked just enough like Inara to almost make Mal think that maybe it actually was Inara, out to play a practical joke at his expense.

"Blue-Eyes, you have walked the length and breadth of this street three times so far. Now either you are workin’ real hard at convincing yourself to buy the merchandise or you’re lookin’ for Sneaky Pete’s joint two blocks over for some sly action."

Mal wondered if God was cursing him with overly-perceptive women in his life.

"I ain’t lookin’ for Sneaky Pete’s."

She cast an appraising eye, which made him actually feel like the goods in question.

"Good thing, that. Be a downright dirty shame if you did lean toward Pete’s boys. So what’s yer story anyway, Blue-Eyes? First time with a whore?"

He winced inwardly, hearing That Word fall from full red lips that weren’t Inara’s.

"I...no, actually. Just been a good long while."

She gave him a wide smile that he only could wish Inara would have ever bestowed upon him.

"Well, then mebbeso it’s time to break that dry spell. Fifty credits and I can be Miss Right."

Fifty credits was a bargain compared to what Inara prolly cost for a tumble.

Fifty credits was most of the coin he had on him.

Fifty credits wouldn’t be nearly enough to purchase his Miss Right.

But it was surely enough to buy him a Miss Right Now.