Chapter 7

Mal and Juliet wander through the Eavesdown Docks stalls, occasionally picking something up and considering it, sometimes handing over credits, sometimes simply pocketing it. Generally it depended on the quality of service.

"Hey, Mal," Juliet calls from one stall as he frowns over an odd looking two foot replica of an alliance cruiser. "HEY! MAL!"

"Wha- oh, sorry, what?" He wanders over to where she's standing.

"Now you're listening."

"Well, they got the proportions on that thing all wrong. Guns are too small. Ain't nobody could beat me with puny li'l guns that size."

"Ok, no, you're not listening."

"Were way bigger'n that when I saw 'em last. Crap model that is."

"Mal, who cares?"

"Huh?"

"Anyway. AS I was going to say, I think Kaylee would like that." She points to a sparkly pink box with a red bow on top. "Might even buy you a forgiveness, you present it nice enough."

"What she gonna want with some crappy pink box?"

"Not the gorram box, you numbskull." She rolls her eyes in frustration. "What's in the box."

"Why, what wonder would that be? As there doesn't seem to be a sign for numbskulls anywhere, maybe you can use your great powers of perception and tell me."

Juliet points to the large sign above the box. Mal looks stonily unamused.

"Grown on the wonderful and bountiful plantations of Beaumonte, real, unprocessed, juicy, ripe, genuine strawberries! Over sellin' it a tad, ain't they?" He grins at her. “Yeah, she’d love that.”

He pays for the box after haggling the seller down to about half his asking price. He may have a boatload of hard cash in his pocket, but that was no excuse to start throwing it all away. That kind of activity attracted unwanted attention. Plus, he wanted to be rich and prosperous for a little longer. It felt good.

They make their way further on, reaching the heavier goods stalls. Mal looks around for a replacement for the mule. Kaylee’d been trying to repair the old one in her spare time, but he’d now pretty much be content with selling it for spare parts, or