Less Than Forget (Firefly, Zoe/Wash, R)
Title: Less Than Forget
Author: sarahetc
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,682
Summary: After Wash's death, Zoe must pick up one last piece of communication sent to him.
A/N: Prompt was: Firefly, Zoe/Wash: dead letter - she didn't think of him as a copilot, she thought of him as a safe port when the storms got too rough. My sincerest thanks to invisibleshrew and honu_girl for wonderful betas.
There wasn't nearly enough air. And her belly hurt. Her sides ached and tears were streaming down her face and she couldn't breathe. And Wash sounded so far away, but he was laughing, too. They were both laughing and she was begging him to stop, to let her catch her breath, and he finally did. She clutched at him, still wrapped up in the stories he'd been telling and now she'd hit the point that everything was funny: every look, every gesture, every phrase made her laugh again remembering the looks, gestures, and phrases that had come before it. Her belly hurt so much and she was begging for him to stop and for true, he hadn't said anything in a few minutes but she couldn't stop laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks and everything was prismatic through that view and she was trying to relax...
“Captain says we can stop at the next Outpost station. It's only a few hours.”
Zoe blinked. River was looking up at her from behind the stick. Zoe blinked again and took a deep breath, feeling the phantom ache down her sides disappear.
“Change course,” she said brusquely and tried not to care when River grimaced. “Thanks,” she added.
And that was how they found themselves on the way to the Luzon Outpost station, one of the last large trade stations before the haul to the Outer Rim. It was technically on the way to their destination, but there was no easy way to get there. Zoe couldn't bring herself to argue for better fuel efficiency; she shouldn't have had to.
“How do I do this?”
“Why do you want to do it?”
“Just because. Now tell me how.”
“Okay, got it all in one handful?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, separate that one handful into three chunks. Gently! And you're doing it too high. Down some, at my neck.”
“Okay, got three gentle chunks at your neck.”
“Okay, just like you did with modeling clay. Don't for a minute believe you didn't play with clay when you were a kid. Right over center.”
“Right over center.”
“Now there's a new center. So left over new center.”
"Left over center.”
“Right over center.”
“And just on and on like that?”
“Yes. Easy, see? Why did you want to do this again?”
“Heard we're taking a detour, Zoe.”
“Yes, sir.” Zoe looked over from over the kettle on the stove, just starting to steam.
“Not that you ain't got a good reason for diverting us, but I'd like to hear it anyway.”
“River says a wav came through addressed to Wash. Had “Washburne” as the return address.”
“His family?” She watched him cross his arms, hating the husky, touchy tone of his voice.
“Can't be sure. Requires signature to view, so I told her replot the course to visit the outpost.”
“Paperwork not go through?”
“Guess not yet. Alliance didn't cause his death, so it goes through the slow channel.” She was trying to be stoic, she really was, waiting for Mal to roll his eyes. She thought if he did she might throw the kettle at him.
“Okay, well. Thanks. River says not long now.”
Zoe nodded at his back and returned to staring at the steaming kettle.
“What time is it?”
“Time to wake up.” She bent to press a line of kisses from his sternum to his navel. His skin was warm and soft and smelled so very Wash. She breathed deeply, immersing herself in it.
“What are the benefits?”
She made no reply, but stroked up his thigh, over his half-tumescent cock, to the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down. This kisses continued past his navel, down and down, until she could lick down the curve of his penis, feeling it harden under her lips.
“Yes, I am awake.” His voice started clear and ringing but devolved into a moan as she took him into her mouth, sliding down and then up.
“These are the benefits,” she said, looking up at him. She could tell he wanted to laugh, but it couldn't come through his groan of pleasure. She laughed for him. For any other man it would have been insulting, but this was her husband.
“Thanks for the detour, Zoe. Needed some supplies.”
She looked at Jayne, waiting for him to say anything else. He looked back at her evenly. She wanted to be angry at his obviously neutral expression, but she didn't have the energy.
“Welcome,” she said crisply and turned to leave the cargo bay.
Serenity pulled at her so hard she could hardly think. She knew she ought to reach above her, or reach to the console to monitor what she could, but she could only clutch the straps holding her to the rear seat on the bridge while Serenity swung, around and around, nose down and heavy reactor core spinning, screwing them down to the dirt with horrifying efficiency. Wash was screaming about backup. They had no power, no backup and slowly she realized she'd never heard him scream before. In the worst situations, on the hottest runs, the most she'd heard from him were slow, condescending phrases and sharp commands. Now he was screaming and it was unprecedented. She was being yanked hard, the straps cutting into her shoulders and breasts. But she could see Wash's right hand inching painstakingly across his body, against the force of the spin, to reach the backup power. She saw the tips of his fingers graze the panel and was sure, for half an instant, that he'd missed it, and prepared to be obliterated. In the next half instant the backup power crashed on and Wash hauled back on the stick. She had hope then-- that he'd get the nose up and that they might not crash and burn. So much hope it was a forgone conclusion-nobody flew like her man. He'd get them down safe. Then they landed. She concentrated on releasing her breath, letting her limbs go loose, taking the impact like a rag doll. The sounds were horrible and there was a ugly sensation of heat all around her, but soon enough they were still. Wash said, “I'm a leaf on the wind.” She felt laughter bubble up inside her, completely irrational and she wanted to be angry, but for him to play Zen after all of that was fefeng in new and exciting ways. Another breath of silence passed before he started grinning over his shoulder, right at her, in the red light of the hangar. “Watch how I--”
“You feel that dock, Zoe? We're here.”
Zoe looked up at the comm on the wall. She'd felt bump of docking and the change in pressure that was switching to station atmo. Kaylee's voice was hesitant and clear. She knew she ought to get up and acknowledge it. Say yes, Kaylee or thanks, Kaylee but her legs felt leaden.
She told herself to get up. She told herself to get up, to walk to the comm and press the blue talk button; to say, “Thank you, Kaylee.” But she didn't.
Until she did. She rose and swiped her ident card and personal papers in their leather wallet from her desk. She went to the wall and tapped the button to open her hatch so she could thank Kaylee in person on her way out of the ship.
She was the last crew member to arrive in the cargo bay, for which she felt an instantly suppressed flash of guilt.
“Short stop, people,” Mal announced. “Let's take two hours, get stocked up and get back on our way. Kaylee, River, you each got coin for parts and supplies. Jayne, countin' on you and the Doc to play nice long enough to see if we can get fresh food. Zoe, you're with me.”
He tilted his head until everyone else passed him to make their way through the airlock.
“You ready for this?”
“Just picking up a wav, sir.” She walked past him, just as the others had, and fought back irritation when he fell into step beside her.
“You got an idea 'bout what it says?”
“None.”
“Dead post don't happen too often.”
She made no reply, but stopped at a blinking station map to double check the location of the Communication office. From there they walked quietly past vendors and small shops, watching people push huge carts back and forth, piled high with boxes of supplies, most marked Alliance. The Comm office was empty but for a plain, young woman behind the counter. The screens built into the walls on each side of her flashed a constant stream of warnings, notices and wanted posters at untimed intervals, blown pixels marring faces and distorting words.
“Zoe Washburne,” she announced as she stepped up to the counter, sliding her ident card toward the girl, who received it with a pleasant, reserved smile. “You have a dead letter for Hoban Washburne I need to pick up.”
The girl's smiled faltered as she reached for her keyboard. “Okay, all that's needed to process that claim is for the recipient to input their Alliance signature code and the wav will download to their Cortex directory.”
“It's a dead letter for a dead man.” She flipped the document wallet open and pulled out Wash's death certificate. “I'm his next of kin.”
The girl stopped sharply, then looked from Zoe to Mal and back again. “Of course,” she recovered, and went back to typing.
Zoe stood still, her fingertips pressing the certificate into the counter, eyes at parade rest.
“One moment while I copy this to a chip for you,” the girl said. Zoe nodded once while the girl continued. “If you'd like, there's a couple readers in the room just over there. Not private, but there's no one else here today.” She popped the chip out of the encoder and handed it to Zoe.
“Xie xie,” Zoe muttered, staring down at a white disc that looked like hundreds of other infochips she'd seen before.
“Just need your Alliance signature code right here.” She indicated a keypad to Zoe's right, embedded in the counter. Zoe tapped in the digits. “And I'll take care of everything else.”
Zoe turned and made directly for the reader, hearing Mal toss a “much obliged” at the clerk before following her.
“You're my favorite person in the whole 'verse, you know that?”
He'd snuck up behind her again and she tried not to start but knew he could read it all over her. He kissed her on the neck with a loud smacking sound, then blew by her.
“Pilot!” She called after him.
She slotted the chip into the reader and watched while the translucent arms rose to lock the chip and start the playback. The screen in front of her fuzzed momentarily and she felt Mal step up behind her.
There was something decadent about sliding into her husband's lap while he was on duty. Made the kisses she stole even sweeter. His lips were soft under hers. She relished the feel of his hands on her waist. His hair, so short and fine, slid through her fingers like water.
“Wash!” A pale woman with a wide jaw and straw-colored hair materialized on the screen. She smiled widely and the smile was so familiar Zoe could hardly stand it. “Glad to hear from you. It's been so long. I'm sending a wav back from everybody, so consider they all said hello and to take care of yourself and to tell Zoe hello. We miss you both and want to see you again next time you pass through the core. Not that you ever pass through the core. But yes, we'd love it if you and Zoe came to stay with us. Bring the whole crew if you have to, you know we've got the space. Mother would love....”
The speaker cut her eyes to the side and Zoe spoke into the pause, “His sister.”
“Mother would love to have a houseful again. About the other.” Wash's sister leaned forward conspiratorially on the screen, blue eyes bright, but distorted by perspective. “I can't tell you what to do, but I'd love it if you did. And I think you'd love it. Just go for it! Anything that keeps you from seeming like such a pirate, I will advocate. Must run. We'll talk later, okay? Take care of yourself. Love to you and Zoe.”
The screen fuzzed again before the readers arms moved back down, releasing the chip. “No idea,” Zoe said, before Mal could ask.
“I was gonna ask if they knew.”
“Yes,” Zoe said and pulled the chip from the reader. “Got a return wav on the message I sent them a couple weeks back. Should ship some of his stuff home now we're at an Outpost station, but I haven't gone through it."
“You take all the time you need,” Mal said and she wanted to punch him. Knowing that he would have let her made it worse.
“I don't need time. I need my husband back. Ain't felt safe a moment since that battle. Hate being vulnerable like this, and all I can think of is him and just when I think it might get better, he's still getting wavs and I have to wonder what he was plotting.”
Mal was silent and they both looked at the floor. This was as much as she'd ever said to him about Wash's death.
“But I'm never going to know, because I can't wav her back, not now. So I go on with one more reminder that I'm out a husband.” She looked up at him to find him looking at her. “I'm out a home.” When he started to protest, she set her mouth and whatever words he might have said gusted from his mouth in a heavy sigh.
“Let's get back to the ship,” she finished.
Mal nodded and followed her out of the Luzon's Communication office.
“What would you do without me?” Wash's voice sounded impish.
“Get my work done on time.” She flicked a hand back at him, vaguely threatening him with the pencil she was holding.
“You get it done on time now. I think it's because I'm your muse.”
“My muse?”
“I inspire you! To greatness! To feats of heretofore unknown accounting wonder!”
She laughed as he pulled her back in her chair so he could lean over her and pepper her face with kisses.
“On Earth that Was it was traditional to start a work of art with an invocation to the muse.”
“How do you know these things?”
“You can learn a lot when you're busy not playing sports like the other boys. So I think you should invoke me every time you sit down to do the books.”
"How do I do that?” She reached up to trace his lips and chin with one finger.
“A poem. A big declarative one, I think. 'O Wash!' you could start. Yeah, 'O Wash, pilot, husband and extremely attractive specimen of manhood, bestow your....”
She couldn't hold the laughter in.
“Zoe, please, this is serious business. 'Bestow your graciousness and handsomeness on these figures.' And a few other things about how much you love me and want me and can't live without me.”
She stood and turned to wrap her arms around him. “Yes, all those things.” She still felt like laughing, but there was something tender there, that lodged in her heart and made her cherish this moment, holding and being held by her husband. He pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. She grinned and tucked a feeling a perfect wholeness away, deep in her heart.
Author: sarahetc
Rating: R
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,682
Summary: After Wash's death, Zoe must pick up one last piece of communication sent to him.
A/N: Prompt was: Firefly, Zoe/Wash: dead letter - she didn't think of him as a copilot, she thought of him as a safe port when the storms got too rough. My sincerest thanks to invisibleshrew and honu_girl for wonderful betas.
There wasn't nearly enough air. And her belly hurt. Her sides ached and tears were streaming down her face and she couldn't breathe. And Wash sounded so far away, but he was laughing, too. They were both laughing and she was begging him to stop, to let her catch her breath, and he finally did. She clutched at him, still wrapped up in the stories he'd been telling and now she'd hit the point that everything was funny: every look, every gesture, every phrase made her laugh again remembering the looks, gestures, and phrases that had come before it. Her belly hurt so much and she was begging for him to stop and for true, he hadn't said anything in a few minutes but she couldn't stop laughing. Tears rolled down her cheeks and everything was prismatic through that view and she was trying to relax...
“Captain says we can stop at the next Outpost station. It's only a few hours.”
Zoe blinked. River was looking up at her from behind the stick. Zoe blinked again and took a deep breath, feeling the phantom ache down her sides disappear.
“Change course,” she said brusquely and tried not to care when River grimaced. “Thanks,” she added.
And that was how they found themselves on the way to the Luzon Outpost station, one of the last large trade stations before the haul to the Outer Rim. It was technically on the way to their destination, but there was no easy way to get there. Zoe couldn't bring herself to argue for better fuel efficiency; she shouldn't have had to.
“How do I do this?”
“Why do you want to do it?”
“Just because. Now tell me how.”
“Okay, got it all in one handful?”
“Yes.”
“Alright, separate that one handful into three chunks. Gently! And you're doing it too high. Down some, at my neck.”
“Okay, got three gentle chunks at your neck.”
“Okay, just like you did with modeling clay. Don't for a minute believe you didn't play with clay when you were a kid. Right over center.”
“Right over center.”
“Now there's a new center. So left over new center.”
"Left over center.”
“Right over center.”
“And just on and on like that?”
“Yes. Easy, see? Why did you want to do this again?”
“Heard we're taking a detour, Zoe.”
“Yes, sir.” Zoe looked over from over the kettle on the stove, just starting to steam.
“Not that you ain't got a good reason for diverting us, but I'd like to hear it anyway.”
“River says a wav came through addressed to Wash. Had “Washburne” as the return address.”
“His family?” She watched him cross his arms, hating the husky, touchy tone of his voice.
“Can't be sure. Requires signature to view, so I told her replot the course to visit the outpost.”
“Paperwork not go through?”
“Guess not yet. Alliance didn't cause his death, so it goes through the slow channel.” She was trying to be stoic, she really was, waiting for Mal to roll his eyes. She thought if he did she might throw the kettle at him.
“Okay, well. Thanks. River says not long now.”
Zoe nodded at his back and returned to staring at the steaming kettle.
“What time is it?”
“Time to wake up.” She bent to press a line of kisses from his sternum to his navel. His skin was warm and soft and smelled so very Wash. She breathed deeply, immersing herself in it.
“What are the benefits?”
She made no reply, but stroked up his thigh, over his half-tumescent cock, to the waistband of his shorts and tugged them down. This kisses continued past his navel, down and down, until she could lick down the curve of his penis, feeling it harden under her lips.
“Yes, I am awake.” His voice started clear and ringing but devolved into a moan as she took him into her mouth, sliding down and then up.
“These are the benefits,” she said, looking up at him. She could tell he wanted to laugh, but it couldn't come through his groan of pleasure. She laughed for him. For any other man it would have been insulting, but this was her husband.
“Thanks for the detour, Zoe. Needed some supplies.”
She looked at Jayne, waiting for him to say anything else. He looked back at her evenly. She wanted to be angry at his obviously neutral expression, but she didn't have the energy.
“Welcome,” she said crisply and turned to leave the cargo bay.
Serenity pulled at her so hard she could hardly think. She knew she ought to reach above her, or reach to the console to monitor what she could, but she could only clutch the straps holding her to the rear seat on the bridge while Serenity swung, around and around, nose down and heavy reactor core spinning, screwing them down to the dirt with horrifying efficiency. Wash was screaming about backup. They had no power, no backup and slowly she realized she'd never heard him scream before. In the worst situations, on the hottest runs, the most she'd heard from him were slow, condescending phrases and sharp commands. Now he was screaming and it was unprecedented. She was being yanked hard, the straps cutting into her shoulders and breasts. But she could see Wash's right hand inching painstakingly across his body, against the force of the spin, to reach the backup power. She saw the tips of his fingers graze the panel and was sure, for half an instant, that he'd missed it, and prepared to be obliterated. In the next half instant the backup power crashed on and Wash hauled back on the stick. She had hope then-- that he'd get the nose up and that they might not crash and burn. So much hope it was a forgone conclusion-nobody flew like her man. He'd get them down safe. Then they landed. She concentrated on releasing her breath, letting her limbs go loose, taking the impact like a rag doll. The sounds were horrible and there was a ugly sensation of heat all around her, but soon enough they were still. Wash said, “I'm a leaf on the wind.” She felt laughter bubble up inside her, completely irrational and she wanted to be angry, but for him to play Zen after all of that was fefeng in new and exciting ways. Another breath of silence passed before he started grinning over his shoulder, right at her, in the red light of the hangar. “Watch how I--”
“You feel that dock, Zoe? We're here.”
Zoe looked up at the comm on the wall. She'd felt bump of docking and the change in pressure that was switching to station atmo. Kaylee's voice was hesitant and clear. She knew she ought to get up and acknowledge it. Say yes, Kaylee or thanks, Kaylee but her legs felt leaden.
She told herself to get up. She told herself to get up, to walk to the comm and press the blue talk button; to say, “Thank you, Kaylee.” But she didn't.
Until she did. She rose and swiped her ident card and personal papers in their leather wallet from her desk. She went to the wall and tapped the button to open her hatch so she could thank Kaylee in person on her way out of the ship.
She was the last crew member to arrive in the cargo bay, for which she felt an instantly suppressed flash of guilt.
“Short stop, people,” Mal announced. “Let's take two hours, get stocked up and get back on our way. Kaylee, River, you each got coin for parts and supplies. Jayne, countin' on you and the Doc to play nice long enough to see if we can get fresh food. Zoe, you're with me.”
He tilted his head until everyone else passed him to make their way through the airlock.
“You ready for this?”
“Just picking up a wav, sir.” She walked past him, just as the others had, and fought back irritation when he fell into step beside her.
“You got an idea 'bout what it says?”
“None.”
“Dead post don't happen too often.”
She made no reply, but stopped at a blinking station map to double check the location of the Communication office. From there they walked quietly past vendors and small shops, watching people push huge carts back and forth, piled high with boxes of supplies, most marked Alliance. The Comm office was empty but for a plain, young woman behind the counter. The screens built into the walls on each side of her flashed a constant stream of warnings, notices and wanted posters at untimed intervals, blown pixels marring faces and distorting words.
“Zoe Washburne,” she announced as she stepped up to the counter, sliding her ident card toward the girl, who received it with a pleasant, reserved smile. “You have a dead letter for Hoban Washburne I need to pick up.”
The girl's smiled faltered as she reached for her keyboard. “Okay, all that's needed to process that claim is for the recipient to input their Alliance signature code and the wav will download to their Cortex directory.”
“It's a dead letter for a dead man.” She flipped the document wallet open and pulled out Wash's death certificate. “I'm his next of kin.”
The girl stopped sharply, then looked from Zoe to Mal and back again. “Of course,” she recovered, and went back to typing.
Zoe stood still, her fingertips pressing the certificate into the counter, eyes at parade rest.
“One moment while I copy this to a chip for you,” the girl said. Zoe nodded once while the girl continued. “If you'd like, there's a couple readers in the room just over there. Not private, but there's no one else here today.” She popped the chip out of the encoder and handed it to Zoe.
“Xie xie,” Zoe muttered, staring down at a white disc that looked like hundreds of other infochips she'd seen before.
“Just need your Alliance signature code right here.” She indicated a keypad to Zoe's right, embedded in the counter. Zoe tapped in the digits. “And I'll take care of everything else.”
Zoe turned and made directly for the reader, hearing Mal toss a “much obliged” at the clerk before following her.
“You're my favorite person in the whole 'verse, you know that?”
He'd snuck up behind her again and she tried not to start but knew he could read it all over her. He kissed her on the neck with a loud smacking sound, then blew by her.
“Pilot!” She called after him.
She slotted the chip into the reader and watched while the translucent arms rose to lock the chip and start the playback. The screen in front of her fuzzed momentarily and she felt Mal step up behind her.
There was something decadent about sliding into her husband's lap while he was on duty. Made the kisses she stole even sweeter. His lips were soft under hers. She relished the feel of his hands on her waist. His hair, so short and fine, slid through her fingers like water.
“Wash!” A pale woman with a wide jaw and straw-colored hair materialized on the screen. She smiled widely and the smile was so familiar Zoe could hardly stand it. “Glad to hear from you. It's been so long. I'm sending a wav back from everybody, so consider they all said hello and to take care of yourself and to tell Zoe hello. We miss you both and want to see you again next time you pass through the core. Not that you ever pass through the core. But yes, we'd love it if you and Zoe came to stay with us. Bring the whole crew if you have to, you know we've got the space. Mother would love....”
The speaker cut her eyes to the side and Zoe spoke into the pause, “His sister.”
“Mother would love to have a houseful again. About the other.” Wash's sister leaned forward conspiratorially on the screen, blue eyes bright, but distorted by perspective. “I can't tell you what to do, but I'd love it if you did. And I think you'd love it. Just go for it! Anything that keeps you from seeming like such a pirate, I will advocate. Must run. We'll talk later, okay? Take care of yourself. Love to you and Zoe.”
The screen fuzzed again before the readers arms moved back down, releasing the chip. “No idea,” Zoe said, before Mal could ask.
“I was gonna ask if they knew.”
“Yes,” Zoe said and pulled the chip from the reader. “Got a return wav on the message I sent them a couple weeks back. Should ship some of his stuff home now we're at an Outpost station, but I haven't gone through it."
“You take all the time you need,” Mal said and she wanted to punch him. Knowing that he would have let her made it worse.
“I don't need time. I need my husband back. Ain't felt safe a moment since that battle. Hate being vulnerable like this, and all I can think of is him and just when I think it might get better, he's still getting wavs and I have to wonder what he was plotting.”
Mal was silent and they both looked at the floor. This was as much as she'd ever said to him about Wash's death.
“But I'm never going to know, because I can't wav her back, not now. So I go on with one more reminder that I'm out a husband.” She looked up at him to find him looking at her. “I'm out a home.” When he started to protest, she set her mouth and whatever words he might have said gusted from his mouth in a heavy sigh.
“Let's get back to the ship,” she finished.
Mal nodded and followed her out of the Luzon's Communication office.
“What would you do without me?” Wash's voice sounded impish.
“Get my work done on time.” She flicked a hand back at him, vaguely threatening him with the pencil she was holding.
“You get it done on time now. I think it's because I'm your muse.”
“My muse?”
“I inspire you! To greatness! To feats of heretofore unknown accounting wonder!”
She laughed as he pulled her back in her chair so he could lean over her and pepper her face with kisses.
“On Earth that Was it was traditional to start a work of art with an invocation to the muse.”
“How do you know these things?”
“You can learn a lot when you're busy not playing sports like the other boys. So I think you should invoke me every time you sit down to do the books.”
"How do I do that?” She reached up to trace his lips and chin with one finger.
“A poem. A big declarative one, I think. 'O Wash!' you could start. Yeah, 'O Wash, pilot, husband and extremely attractive specimen of manhood, bestow your....”
She couldn't hold the laughter in.
“Zoe, please, this is serious business. 'Bestow your graciousness and handsomeness on these figures.' And a few other things about how much you love me and want me and can't live without me.”
She stood and turned to wrap her arms around him. “Yes, all those things.” She still felt like laughing, but there was something tender there, that lodged in her heart and made her cherish this moment, holding and being held by her husband. He pressed his forehead to hers and grinned. She grinned and tucked a feeling a perfect wholeness away, deep in her heart.