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 win