Work and Play
Author: heeroluva
Words: 480
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Note: Jayne's just waiting for a good time.
The dark cherry bar showed years of wear and tear with nicks from the many fights and flights of drama that it had seen. But it shone in the flickering lamp light, highly polished, showing that it was well loved. Sitting at the far end on a not so loved stool was a big man was a rough man with a wide brimmed hat pulled low, hunching over a whiskey tumbler, the half-empty bottle close at hand, appearing to be drowning his sorrows. But looks could be deceiving.
Behind that cherished bar stood a tall mirror, stretching from wall to wall also highly polished. Not one streak, liquid droplet, crack, or chip marred its smooth surface. From under lowered lashed bright blue eyes took in the entire room all under the guise of an oblivious drunk.
The rest of the place was not so nearly well kept. Faded and peeling wallpaper that may have once been a floral pattern partially covered the paneled walls. A mix match of tables, chair, and stools were carelessly strewn about the room. Few matched, and even fewer were not battle-scarred. Those that weren't looked out a place, but that wouldn't last for long. The inevitable would soon happen to them as well, the price to pay for the upkeep wasn't worth new items.
People didn't go there for the décor or the donkey piss that passed for beer, but for the painted pretties that filled the room. More than one of the newer girls had tried to approach the man at the bar, liking his looks, liking the thrill, the possibility of a challenge, and from what the older whores said a very good time, but each one was turned down with barely more than an a glance—not something usual in a place like this.
The man normally wouldn't turn them down, liking his women as much as the next man, maybe even a good bit more. But if he was good for one thing, it was keeping work and pleasure separate. He was there for work, and work would be all that would happen. Pleasure would come later, a wolfish grin spreading over his face at the thought.
Now if only things worked out tonight and the heist went off without a hitch. But the way things normally went with Mal's plans, a heap of drama would most certainly happen and everything would go wrong. The door flew open and a small man in a cheap pieced together suit and bowler hat stepped through followed by two muscles without a full brain between them.
He straightened and glanced in the mirror meeting Mal's eyes, who nodded and poked Zoe who sat shadowed in a dark corn next to him.
Tilting his hat up, he stood and turned, a roguish grin splitting across his face. It was time for the fun to begin.