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tamingthemuseTitle: Unification Day
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: Firefly – One year before "The Train Job"
Pairing: Zoe/Wash
Prompt: 121 Thirst
Word count: ~650
A/N: It's been ages since I wrote Firefly, and I think this is my first take on Zoe. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spiralleds for a very fly by beta-ing! All comments welcomed.
After hearing the Captain's coordinates for their next planet fall, Zoe didn't need to check the date. Unification Day was coming: there was no other reason to visit a backwater of a moon with no chance of work, but known for its Alliance leanings.
Happened like clockwork every year, seemed the thirst had hit him again. She'd observed it for more years than she'd expected to live through when she met Sergeant Reynolds; though at that time a week was a long life expectancy.
Passing him in the hall, Zoe merely nodded as the Captain headed to his quarters, and then she made her way up to the bridge.
"Hey, honey! Did you bring me a snack?" Her husband spun his chair around and met her glare with a grin. "Guess not. So, you've heard?" He waved at the screen that listed the destination.
"We'll be there in time?" Not that she doubted his flying skills. His sanity, his choice of clothes, his sense of humor, sure, but never his flying skills.
"Oh don't you worry, Mal and you will not be missing out of this gorram tradition of bruises and brutality." He turned away from her to face the console. "May I just state for the record that my patching skills are the same with people and clothes." He pointed to his now button-less shirt. She raised an eyebrow as she remembered how it got that way. "So could you keep the blood letting to a minimum?" He shook his head. "Given the jobs lately, isn't it time to ask Mal about adding a medic?"
"We've got Jayne; that should forestall some of the stupidity." She ignored the medic question. Muscle was a cheap hire, but those with high level training like medics they could write their own ticket. Those tickets rarely read scavenger ship. Zoe reached out to cup Wash's shoulder. "Capt just needs to blow off a little steam, is all." She knew this; not that she understood his need to rub that particular sore raw each year. Not just each year; this ship, their very home, was looking back not forward.
Yet there was no one she would rather stand beside.
"And we'll be leaving the weapons at home."
"Most of them," Wash muttered.
She stiffened, but had to concede the point. No matter what the game plan, she wasn't leaving her crew unprotected."Most of them," she agreed beginning to give her husband a slow neck rub. He would never understand, not that she really understood, but he knew it was something she had to do. He'd bitch and moan, but when she came back there would be a quiet evening where she didn't have to protect anyone; where she could just be Zoe, not the Captain's 2IC.
"So has he done this every year? And, it being the fifth anniversary, should I be expecting something special?" Wash leaned back into her ministrations and closed his eyes. "I didn't think Jayne was the political type."
"Jayne's the fighting type." At least that's what they'd seen so far, and this was a good time to test their latest crew member. She'd have to remind him to minimize the ordinates. Some how, she didn't see Jayne as one happy to keep a fight even. She must have been more concerned than she realized as Wash suddenly jerked forward.
"Um that's fine. No need on starting those bruises early." But he tossed a warm look over his shoulder, so she knew he wasn't fussed. She might be willing to stand beside Mal through hell or high water, but this was the man she was pleased to come home to.
Her life wasn't what she'd expected, but she couldn't think of a better one.
Author: SunnyD_lite
Fandom: Firefly – One year before "The Train Job"
Pairing: Zoe/Wash
Prompt: 121 Thirst
Word count: ~650
A/N: It's been ages since I wrote Firefly, and I think this is my first take on Zoe. Thanks to
spiralleds for a very fly by beta-ing! All comments welcomed. After hearing the Captain's coordinates for their next planet fall, Zoe didn't need to check the date. Unification Day was coming: there was no other reason to visit a backwater of a moon with no chance of work, but known for its Alliance leanings.
Happened like clockwork every year, seemed the thirst had hit him again. She'd observed it for more years than she'd expected to live through when she met Sergeant Reynolds; though at that time a week was a long life expectancy.
Passing him in the hall, Zoe merely nodded as the Captain headed to his quarters, and then she made her way up to the bridge.
"Hey, honey! Did you bring me a snack?" Her husband spun his chair around and met her glare with a grin. "Guess not. So, you've heard?" He waved at the screen that listed the destination.
"We'll be there in time?" Not that she doubted his flying skills. His sanity, his choice of clothes, his sense of humor, sure, but never his flying skills.
"Oh don't you worry, Mal and you will not be missing out of this gorram tradition of bruises and brutality." He turned away from her to face the console. "May I just state for the record that my patching skills are the same with people and clothes." He pointed to his now button-less shirt. She raised an eyebrow as she remembered how it got that way. "So could you keep the blood letting to a minimum?" He shook his head. "Given the jobs lately, isn't it time to ask Mal about adding a medic?"
"We've got Jayne; that should forestall some of the stupidity." She ignored the medic question. Muscle was a cheap hire, but those with high level training like medics they could write their own ticket. Those tickets rarely read scavenger ship. Zoe reached out to cup Wash's shoulder. "Capt just needs to blow off a little steam, is all." She knew this; not that she understood his need to rub that particular sore raw each year. Not just each year; this ship, their very home, was looking back not forward.
Yet there was no one she would rather stand beside.
"And we'll be leaving the weapons at home."
"Most of them," Wash muttered.
She stiffened, but had to concede the point. No matter what the game plan, she wasn't leaving her crew unprotected."Most of them," she agreed beginning to give her husband a slow neck rub. He would never understand, not that she really understood, but he knew it was something she had to do. He'd bitch and moan, but when she came back there would be a quiet evening where she didn't have to protect anyone; where she could just be Zoe, not the Captain's 2IC.
"So has he done this every year? And, it being the fifth anniversary, should I be expecting something special?" Wash leaned back into her ministrations and closed his eyes. "I didn't think Jayne was the political type."
"Jayne's the fighting type." At least that's what they'd seen so far, and this was a good time to test their latest crew member. She'd have to remind him to minimize the ordinates. Some how, she didn't see Jayne as one happy to keep a fight even. She must have been more concerned than she realized as Wash suddenly jerked forward.
"Um that's fine. No need on starting those bruises early." But he tossed a warm look over his shoulder, so she knew he wasn't fussed. She might be willing to stand beside Mal through hell or high water, but this was the man she was pleased to come home to.
Her life wasn't what she'd expected, but she couldn't think of a better one.
