A/N: This one was for a prompt fill over on Dreamwidth. The prompt was something along the line of choosing a dress to wear. Naturally, I went with a "missing scene" deal from 'Working Girls.'


"Ezra, dammit, we don't have time for this," Vin huffed impatiently.

Ezra glared at the tracker over his shoulder for a brief second before turning his attention back to the selection of dresses that hung before him. "Mr. Tanner, if you expect me to be able to pull this…ridiculous…stunt off with any measure of success, I must actually look the part. For a woman of class the appropriate attire is everything."

Vin raised his hands in frustration. "Ya ain't supposed to be a woman of class, Ezra. You're lookin' for a job at a-"

"I will not be applying for the position of paramour," the conman replied rigidly. "I will hold on to what little dignity this masquerade will allow."

He clenched his teeth as he ran his hand over the sleeve of a maroon gown, shaking his head at something in the stitching that he didn't like. His eyes fell on a pretty white garment with lace trim, but he quickly dismissed it when he looked upon the tiny pink flowers that adorned the bodice. A black dress was next in line, and a tiny smirk flirted at the corners of his lips.

"You like that one?" Vin asked, misreading the gambler's expression.

"Lord, no, it's dreadfully depressing; not even fit for a funeral." His sudden look of disgust was replaced by a smile, yet again - a full one this time. "I was simply pondering the idea of Mr. Larabee taking up the ruse instead of myself. I believe this color would look stunning on our stalwart leader."

Vin snorted, unable to keep his amusement completely in check. Ezra was right; if it were Chris that had to dress up as a woman, he'd have picked that ugly black rag without a second thought.

Footsteps behind him – angry sounding footsteps – cut his humor short. He turned to see Ms. Potter standing with her arms crossed, staring at the two men with a fierce intensity that would've matched Larabee's glare.

"If you boys don't like what I'm selling, you can just find someone else to loan you a dress," she snapped.

Ezra, seeing the bewildered flush on Tanner's face, was quick to try to placate the irritated shopkeeper. "I – we – apologize Ms. Potter. It wasn't our intention to insult your fine selection of ladies' wear. In fact, you have some rather admirable garments that I'm certain many a young woman would dream of wearing to a courting with her first love." He sent her a wink along with a subtle grin, and she couldn't help but allow her anger to flow away on the tides of his soft southern accent. After waiting a moment to make certain that the atmosphere had relaxed, he stepped boldly, but carefully, into the next statement. "However, beautiful as these drapings are, I fear they don't quite fit the parameters for what I am aiming to represent."

"Which is what, exactly, Mr. Standish?" Gloria asked, raising her eyebrows. Vin shared a similar curious look.

"Well," Ezra started, flashing his gold tooth, "since I'm to be putting on what will probably be the most scandalous performance of my lucrative career, something with a little more…flare would be appropriate. What I need, Ms. Potter, is something that would light up a stage."

Gloria tapped her finger on her lips for a moment as she absently gazed at her selection. "A theater performer's dress…. You're right, these won't do." She thought for another moment before squinting at the Southerner, seeming to size him up before coming to a conclusion. "I have a few things that once belonged to my sister. She was…well…not a store keeper's wife." She nodded at herself as she continued to measure Standish with her eyes. "Yes, I think they'd fit you quite nicely. Come with me."

Ezra didn't have a chance to speak before she gripped his arm and dragged him off, leaving Vin standing alone in the store wondering what the hell just happened. With nothing better to do, he began sorting through the dress selection, himself. He shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with what was on the rack, and wondered on what the difference was between what he was seeing there and what made a theater dress.

A half hour later, his question was answered.

"I apologize for the wait, Mr. Tanner," Ezra began, even though he could tell Vin was too busy staring at the transformed Southerner to be concerned over what was being said. "I was having some difficulty deciding whether the purple or the red would be the best option."

Ms. Potter smiled in pride as she looked upon her quick, but thorough, work. "I suggested the purple. It's a softer color on the eyes, and I thought Mr. Standish would enjoy the royal symbolism."

"Indeed I do," Ezra responded. "It was wonderful advice, Ms. Potter. Don't you agree?" He turned back to the tracker who still stood with his jaw hanging open. "Mr. Tanner? …Vin?"

Ezra saw the laughter slowly replacing the shock in Vin's eyes, and quickly put a hand on the sharpshooter's back to steer him towards the door. With a quick salute to Ms. Potter and a promise to return the dress in one piece, he shoved Tanner out into the street just in time before the man exploded.

"Hell, Ezra, I think you were right not wantin' to apply for that escort position," Vin choked out between chuckles. "I don't think anyone would want ya!"

Standish arched a perturbed eyebrow. "I take offense to that for both myself and the hard work of Ms. Potter, and if you don't wish to trade places with me on this little rescue mission, then I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself." He adjusted the corset a little around his chest. "This look is precisely what I had envisioned when you suggested this plan of distraction, and therefore the deceit will work with the exact results you gentlemen are requesting. Now can we please get this over with so I may return to my normal mode of dress?"

"But, Ezra, you're already wearin' a right pretty dress," Vin said in a confused tone.

"What I mean is that-" Ezra started to grind out, then caught the teasing twinkle in the tracker's eyes. "I hope you realize that I have every intention of making you and Mr. Larabee pay me some restitution for this blatant abuse of my talents."

"Sure, Ez, whatever ya want," Vin too-quickly agreed, slapping the gambler good-naturedly on the back before walking away.

Ezra sighed, knowing he wouldn't see a single extra dime for his suffering. Rolling his head on his shoulders in preparation for the role he was about to perform, he sucked in a calming breath and followed after the sharpshooter. As he caught the perplexed stares from a few of the townsfolk that were clearly having difficulty deciding whether they knew this strange new woman in the purple dress or not, he couldn't help but release a small chuckle. His mother had taught him to pay attention to every detail, but he doubted it had crossed her mind how much he had taken that lesson to heart as a child. If she found out how closely he had studied her while she was choosing her own method of dress for a con only to apply that knowledge now for the purposes of risking his neck for a mere dollar a day, she would surely succumb to a full-on fit.

He made a mental note to send her a cryptic 'thank you' letter for teaching him about woman's wear. The thought of her puzzling over the meaning behind it almost made this whole affair worth it.

Almost.