Firefly Valentine's ficlet: Ikan bilis
Happy Valentine's Day! I fear the long hiatus in my writing Firefly fic has not improved matters for me any, but I love my Browncoat flisters too much not to give you something! Ikan bilis are a Malaysian delicacy; in my opinion only a long time living on protein bars would make them seem like awesome dinner, but fish are considered lucky in many cultures.
Ikan bilis - Wash/Zoe
They've been out in the black for so long even Wash is getting jumpy, riding out Mal's bad mood at a job gone south. Supplies of everything are running low, but as Mal points out, there's no sense in using fuel they don't have unless it's carrying them to a new job. In the meantime, they're all tightening their belts, and mostly spending a lot of time biting their tongues as well. That's all well and good, and Wash has been on Serenity to understand what's biting Mal so hard, but he also figures there's only so long a man can stand looking at sour faces. Besides, whatever the rest of the crew might be feeling, Wash has got something to celebrate.
He enlists Kaylee's help, because no one can say she hasn't got a gift for this sort of production. Besides, seeing her cheerful smiles turn to what passes for sour on that face is should be enough to harden even Mal's heart. They're mostly down to plain protein, but despite the long run Wash has still got a couple of actual food items stashed aware where no one else knows to look, and he knows Kaylee's got home brew left.
Mal's black mood has most of the crew skulking in their bunks, so it's not hard to get set up in peace, Kaylee making all kinds of little taradiddles to brighten up the table. Wash surveys it with pleasure: the way he'd really have liked to spend this day is alone in a hot tub with his woman, but failing that, relieving some of the gloom that's hung over the ship will do.
What is hard is getting everyone in to sit down at the table at once, but they've all got to eat, and almost no one can refuse Kaylee when she asks for company. Wash goes to fetch Zoe himself, but after Mal's bunk light stays resolutely red they leave him be.
"Damn, we had ikan bilis?" Jayne says, looking torn between glee and betrayal. "How did I not know we had ikan bilis?"
"I had ikan bilis," Wash tells him. "One hundred percent bonafide little fishies. You can save your lavish expressions of gratitude until the next time we actually have money."
By the time Mal finally puts on an appearance, they're all giggly and silly, drunk on home brew and the novel experience of eating food that actually tastes of something. He gapes at the for a moment, then slams about the kitchen, ignoring Wash's invitation for him to sit down.
"Come on, Cap'n," Kaylee coaxes. "Come and join the festivities."
"Festivities are a little inappropriate, don't you think?" Mal says, but without any real heat.
"Festivities are entirely appropriate," Wash announces. He stands, raising his glass to Zoe. "We're celebrating the death of some guy back on Earth-That-Was, for reasons I'm not entirely clear on, and my love for the sexiest, smartest woman in the 'Verse. Happy Valentine's, Zoe!" He wobbles a little on his feet as he makes the toast, because it's been a good while since his system had any opportunity to develop a tolerance for alcohol.
"I think it's time my husband was in his bunk." Zoe's tone is disapproving, but Wash feels her squeeze his ass as she wraps an arm round his waist, and his bunk is suddenly exactly where he wants to be.
He slides his hand appreciatively over her buttocks in return, and has the pleasure of watching Simon turn beet red and Mal look apoplectic. "Let's go and have the inappropriate part of the festivities."
Ikan bilis - Wash/Zoe
They've been out in the black for so long even Wash is getting jumpy, riding out Mal's bad mood at a job gone south. Supplies of everything are running low, but as Mal points out, there's no sense in using fuel they don't have unless it's carrying them to a new job. In the meantime, they're all tightening their belts, and mostly spending a lot of time biting their tongues as well. That's all well and good, and Wash has been on Serenity to understand what's biting Mal so hard, but he also figures there's only so long a man can stand looking at sour faces. Besides, whatever the rest of the crew might be feeling, Wash has got something to celebrate.
He enlists Kaylee's help, because no one can say she hasn't got a gift for this sort of production. Besides, seeing her cheerful smiles turn to what passes for sour on that face is should be enough to harden even Mal's heart. They're mostly down to plain protein, but despite the long run Wash has still got a couple of actual food items stashed aware where no one else knows to look, and he knows Kaylee's got home brew left.
Mal's black mood has most of the crew skulking in their bunks, so it's not hard to get set up in peace, Kaylee making all kinds of little taradiddles to brighten up the table. Wash surveys it with pleasure: the way he'd really have liked to spend this day is alone in a hot tub with his woman, but failing that, relieving some of the gloom that's hung over the ship will do.
What is hard is getting everyone in to sit down at the table at once, but they've all got to eat, and almost no one can refuse Kaylee when she asks for company. Wash goes to fetch Zoe himself, but after Mal's bunk light stays resolutely red they leave him be.
"Damn, we had ikan bilis?" Jayne says, looking torn between glee and betrayal. "How did I not know we had ikan bilis?"
"I had ikan bilis," Wash tells him. "One hundred percent bonafide little fishies. You can save your lavish expressions of gratitude until the next time we actually have money."
By the time Mal finally puts on an appearance, they're all giggly and silly, drunk on home brew and the novel experience of eating food that actually tastes of something. He gapes at the for a moment, then slams about the kitchen, ignoring Wash's invitation for him to sit down.
"Come on, Cap'n," Kaylee coaxes. "Come and join the festivities."
"Festivities are a little inappropriate, don't you think?" Mal says, but without any real heat.
"Festivities are entirely appropriate," Wash announces. He stands, raising his glass to Zoe. "We're celebrating the death of some guy back on Earth-That-Was, for reasons I'm not entirely clear on, and my love for the sexiest, smartest woman in the 'Verse. Happy Valentine's, Zoe!" He wobbles a little on his feet as he makes the toast, because it's been a good while since his system had any opportunity to develop a tolerance for alcohol.
"I think it's time my husband was in his bunk." Zoe's tone is disapproving, but Wash feels her squeeze his ass as she wraps an arm round his waist, and his bunk is suddenly exactly where he wants to be.
He slides his hand appreciatively over her buttocks in return, and has the pleasure of watching Simon turn beet red and Mal look apoplectic. "Let's go and have the inappropriate part of the festivities."