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PSL part 4

Jan. 22nd, 2012 | 06:11 pm

After four months of sneaking around with Wash, chaste kisses and managing to sneak away every once in a great while for quick encounters (the best time had been when they didn't even make it to her bed, he just pulled her down the ladder the rest of the way by her hips and that was it), and sometimes, on rare occasion, getting planet side together. Kaylee hadn't seemed to tell Inara, or if she had Inara wasn't saying anything about it to them. For that, Zoe's thankful.

It's close to ship's dawn and Zoe's kissing Wash goodbye, knowing she'll get at least another hour of sleep before getting up after the captain. She never really goes to sleep again though. That's usually the time she stops to think on the fact that she's happier than she's ever been, and that she doesn't just like Wash.

She watches him get dressed, and after one more kiss, swats him on his backside lightly to get him to hustle.

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continuing PSL

Jan. 19th, 2012 | 09:19 am

When they finally get planet side, all of Zoe's plans to get the captain to let her stay behind on the boat with Wash get thrown out the window. There's no chance for her to do or say anything about it and she casts a glance over at Wash, trying not to be obvious about it. Her irritation is just under the surface, but she manages to look very calm. She knows she's second in command, but not even Jayne could screw up this drop. Mal's just playing favorites at a time when she don't really feel like it.

They leave; her, Jayne and Mal. Kaylee even comes so she can look through spare parts, see what there is worth taking. But monitoring the cortex has to be done by someone.

She's gone all day, but then Mal says he's staying behind because Monty's around somewhere. Jayne's found the whorehouse, and Kaylee's already gone back to the boat. That leaves Zoe, and she's got a nice pocket full of money from her cut of the run. She passes a few food vendors before eying a restaurant. She thinks of Wash, and she goes in, looking around. She orders food for both of them - meat, some fresh vegetables, dessert cakes, and a couple of mangoes to share.

All of this she takes back to the boat in a nondescript bag, and she goes to the bridge first to look for Wash, not trying to be too loud and catch attention from Kaylee. Zoe's not planning on sharing with her.

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The beginning

Jan. 9th, 2012 | 02:26 pm

It's been a year since this crew got together. A year of Jayne and his particular way of handling business, of the Captain's ways of getting business, and of Wash getting them there. A year of Zoe getting used to the constant cheerfulness of Kaylee who, when combined with the pilot is a force to be reckoned with. There's a small celebration in the galley at dinner, nothing fancy. Just a little extra food and swapping stories. There's even something to drink, and with everyone loose and happy, it's late when they all start heading to their bunks.

Zoe hangs back though, cleaning up a little, something in a bag on the table. She's had her differences with the pilot, Wash drives her crazy, especially with all of his toys all over the cockpit, but they're still a crew, all of them. She looks over to see who's left and gestures to the table.

"Wash, give me a hand with these plates."

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Voicemail (all games.)

Jul. 12th, 2011 | 09:43 am

This is Zoë Washburne. Leave a message.
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eventual intro for hearts_andminds

Jul. 11th, 2011 | 09:04 am

Once Serenity is all fixed up, it's the first night without Wash that's the hardest. Zoë kept herself good and occupied working on making sure Mal's boat could fly again, wearing herself out and sleeping wherever she wound up once she was exhausted. She usually worked silently up on the bridge in front of the cockpit, in the space between panels and the front glass. No one bothered her, not even the captain. River sometimes sat, quite-like in Wash's - no, the pilot's chair - but she never said a word.

And then the firefly is all patched up, shiny as ever, and they're in the sky again. And there's nowhere to go except down to her bunk. She just stands there for a while, breathing in the air that still smells like Wash and the aftershave he uses. Their stuff is scattered everywhere from the hard landing and Zoë treads carefully, kneeling down to pick up one of his dinosaurs. She never understood this obsession from Earth that Was, how fossils could be the most interesting thing to be fascinated with. She stares at the toy, turning it over in her hand again and again, inspecting it until it starts to blur. For the first time she finally lets herself cry, sinking down to the ground against the bed, one hand clutching the damn dinosaur, the other over her face. She has no idea how she's supposed to sleep in this bed that feels too small when she's hot and sweaty and he's pressing against her, because now it's too big. It might as well be as vast as the dark for all the space there is. She never came up with a plan to do this by herself, not after she fell in love with the goofiest guy in the entire 'verse. He'd changed her. Made it so that she knew what it was to smile and immerse herself in people and good things again. Now things feel about as cold and dark as they did after the war.

When she's cried out Zoë stands, taking a deep breath and composing herself. She's never been one for extended mourning. It doesn't bring anyone back, and it doesn't do anyone else any good. Most days, she's not even sad for herself. She's sad for the future she's never going to have. The baby that Wash never even had a chance to know about - the one she didn't even know about until two nights ago. But she knows one thing for certain now: She won't cry any more. She won't crumble when she thinks about her husband. She'll smile, and she'll tell their baby stories, but she won't attach sadness to his memory.

She's caught up in her thoughts, straightening, putting weapons where they're supposed to go, when the hair stands up on the back of her neck. Cocking her weapon, she turns around quick as a cat and has a rifle pointed right in someone's face. There's silence for a few seconds until she exhales, realizing that she's outside, blue sky above her and green grass below her feet. But that doesn't mean she feels better about lowering her weapon. Especially considering the sun's shining just perfect enough to obscure the face of the person in front of her, and she's got no good gorram idea about how she got here.

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