A/N: After I wrote my first Firefly fan fiction and returned to the fiction scene not long ago, ideas kept washing over me. And this one kept nagging me when I got home from my boyfriend's until I got up out of bed at two or so and wrote it down. It's still bothering me, so I've woken up at six to shower for work and I'm writing it. Another pairing I don't usually go for, but sometimes I wonder if there's something there. Post BDM and there are spoilers.
Disclaimer: Don't own it. It's Joss's, we shiny?
Rating: Teenish to R-ish
Title: Love, Lose, Lament.
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She traveled through his lingering scent as she did every night and began the languishing journey into her sleepless dreams. It had been months and she knew it wasn't there anymore, but she couldn't push how it used to smell out and missed it. She missed how it warmed her. She missed how he warmed her more.
The fragrant folds of the sheets had made it impossible to sleep, and it was sleep she needed. Sighing, she got out of bed and started her rounds a mite early.
Climbing up the ladder, Zoë was filled with memories of after a night's rest how they'd climb slowly out together. He'd be handsy, she'd laugh, something other people had rarely made her do.
She headed down to the cargo bay first to check on things, the bridge was her least favorite place to be now. The old pilot's chair was missing and replaced, but she could just imagine him lounging back in the new one, more comfortable than the last one.
Zoë checked on the cargo, that it was strapped down properly and that River hadn't found her way into anything she shouldn't have. It was, it always was. When they didn't have live or fragile cargo, it really didn't need checkin' but she'd do it anyway to avoid the bridge. She'd visit the engine room next.
Since Wash's death, she could feel Serenity better, her hum ringin' in her ears and her heartbeat thumping in her boots. Something Wash could always feel better and stronger than she ever could. Even still, she really weren't a person who knew the workings of an engine.
Zoë got to thinking as she purposely wandered. It seemed to be another phase in a never ending pattern that she lived. Love. Lose. Lament. She was on the last step before it began again, the longest and worst one. Each time it was more intense, each time it hurt more. She wanted it to stop, not to forget him, but to be able to feel the ease of normality run over her.
She had reached the engine room, at a loss of what to look for. Serenity's heart spun and hummed with a natural sounding beat to it.
She turned to head to the bridge, a straight line to her dread, a straight line that could take a small break in the kitchen and have a cup of tea.
When she reached the bright room, it hurt her nearly. The cheeriness of it all burned her sleepy eyes. She didn't want to, but she moved on towards the bridge. As much as she dreaded it something pulled her toward it. His memory tugged her toward it.
The last twenty feet of her journey were the hardest. She could see some feet propped up on the console. From a distance she could just imagine that they were his feet, she knew they weren't. Propping his feet up on the console was a habit he had gotten into when he had late night watches, relaxing, leaning back, waiting for her to stir and come to him. She'd try to sneak up on him and each time she'd fail. He could feel her coming. By this time she began to believe that those feet were really his, that he was a waitin' for her to sneak in the door frame and admit he'd known she was coming all along. He was waiting to pluck her into his arms and look out at the stars.
She could smell him now, on her clothes. She could see him now, a knowing smile on his face as she snuck up the hallway; her footsteps were as silent as the black around Serenity. She was going to surprise him tonight. She had reached the door and she spent a few moments examining him, no sign of movement, and no telltale twitch as she reached the entrance. Maybe tonight was the night she'd surprise him.
She moved real smooth, silently stepping up to the back of the chair.
"Been expectin' me?" she said with a half curved smile on her face. She spun the chair around. Her face fell and her heart broke.
"Zoë? Can't say that I have," he replied knowing who she had been talking to. She was having one of her walking dreams, one that would usually end in some form of embarrassment on her part.
"Sorry sir," her face returned to its stoic nature. She hurried to hide her hurt.
"Zoë.." he began, "I know how you feel, Wash was-"
"Do you sir? You know what this feels like?" she was on the defensive now, her feelings hurt.
"Deng yi miao, I didn't say I was goin' through what you were, I never did imply that. Wash was a good man and a part of my crew."
She didn't feel better, although she wasn't so mad anymore.
"Sir-"
"Zoë... there's no need to keep up with the calling me sir."
"It's become a second nature si-" she stopped herself, "..Mal."
It slid of her tongue with ease and surprised her. He stood.
"There you go; the war's over peng you."
Peng you, he called her that before, but it seemed like such a euphemism for their relationship. It was more.
"How do you feel about spending a couple of hours on watch up here so I might turn in for a bit?"
She didn't want to. The pain was too strong here, it was after all that very seat, but she was lost in the longing she had begun to feel, she missed a human touch so much. That touch was something she'd never imagined she'd need before, she was stern and unfaltering.
"Of course ..Mal, get some rest."
"All right then," he smiled, tired eyes twinkling like they always did. He turned and moved down towards his bunk.
Zoë turned back to face the endless black sky that lay outside the window. She'd spent many nights gazing out into its depth with Wash before. Now that she was alone in it, she never felt more lonely.
"Ai ya," she said to herself.
She stood for what seemed hours, but probably amounted to minutes. She didn't want to go near that chair, or the copilot one which was the same model as Wash's. They hadn't had the money to spare to replace both. She was trapped in the asymmetrical bridge, feeling lopsided. Her left reminded her of him in sight, her right reminded her of him in mind, and the whole area reminded her of him in heart. This was his element, this was him.
Bare footfalls snuck up on her, it was River. She had pretty much taken over Wash's position since Miranda. Piloting the ship had come to her easier than walking was to Zoë.
"Zoë," she teetered on the doorstop to the bridge. "Serenity and I have some catching up to do, she's restless, and she knows you are too."
Zoë smiled, River was right. She was restless, very restless. She needed sleep; she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in months. Nightmares plagued her.
"You need warmth, heat, ninety-eight and seven tenths degrees, a person."
She wanted to cry, but she never did.
"You all set here, River?"
"I always am."
"Hao."
Zoë turned around and if it would've seemed normal to run away from the bridge she would have. In the crew dorm hallway she stopped in front of her and Wash's ladder. It didn't feel right, she couldn't go down there. It wouldn't have helped her. Something pulled her to the last ladder in the hallway. Mal's dorm.
She stepped down real light so as not to stir him and shuffled gingerly across the room in the dark. She heard the sound of a pistol cocking and the lights flashed on. She was nose to barrel with Mal's favorite piece of hardware; a piece he'd had since the war.
"Zoë what's the meanin' of this? Trying to get yourself shot? You know better'n goin' sneaking while a man's sleepin'."
Her heart thudded in her chest, she had guns pointed at her before, but never his, and she certainly wasn't feeling this way when she'd ever had a gun pointed at her. His eyes pierced hers, she didn't break it. She couldn't blink.
"I was just thinking, been feeling lonely something fierce Mal."
She'd never spoken to him like this, about feelings and needs. He got out of bed. She wanted to turn away from him and leave, but couldn't.
She fell into him, and he caught her in a kiss. She pressed herself against him, feeling the warmth she'd missed for months now. It wasn't right though. The back of her eyes pricked, that telltale sign of tears, something that hadn't visited her since the war. She stopped them.
"Zoë.." he whispered into her cheek.
"Don't speak, I need this." Her hands ran up and down his back, feeling the heat through his shirt, but it wasn't warm enough. She found his hair, soft like Wash's, and threaded it through her fingers.
It wasn't enough. She stepped back and tugged his undershirt over his head. She put her palms on his chest, it energized her, lit a fire that had long been put out. He wrapped his arms around her hips, the feeling of it flooding her with need.
He searched her face for an answer, but her eyes were closed.
Her hands slid down and felt for the buttons on his shorts. She found them fast, and had them undone ever faster. She groped and fondled him until he was solid in her hands.
"Undress me.. ma shang," she demanded.
He worked at her buttons on her shirt slowly and with each movement she pressed against his hands, wanting his hands roaming her skin. He slid the shirt from her shoulders letting it flutter to the floor. He started with the button at the top of her pants and slid the zipper down. Impatiently she wrestled her undershirt off as her pants slipped down her thighs. She stood there one thing between her and the air in Mal's bunk.
He slipped his index fingers under the bands in her panties and skimmed them down her long dark legs.
The instant they hit the floor she had him pinned to his bed, hovering a foot above him on her hands and knees. She kissed him again, a hungry messy kiss. Her eyes never opened.
He put his hands at her sides and they traveled up and down along her curves. He cupped her breasts, caressed her hips, and pinched her buttocks. She grabbed his hands and guided them elsewhere, between her legs.
As he worked her, she feverishly kissed and bit his neck until she'd needed to be filled.
"Sex me already," she bit.
She plunged him deep inside. Something Mal hadn't felt for a long time. The confusion left him, and he didn't need an answer from her anymore. Her eyes were still closed.
She rose and fell, working him. Feeling him fill her with each fall. The completeness she felt was enough to finish her.
She pulled him on top of her, feeling his strong chest flex with the movement. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled herself up to meet each of his thrusts. He felt her shudder and shiver. He felt her tighten around her. She exhaled heavily and didn't stop, keeping her eyes closed.
It had been such a long time since Mal had had this kind of attention. He could feel the pressure building with each thrust. A new sensation pushed him to his breaking point. She was grabbing his back, downright clawing him, clinging on with raw passion. He finished with his next downward thrust and didn't stop. He wanted her to feel it again.
She shook and trembled as he took her legs over his shoulders and drove into her. She pulsed with pleasure and sighed sweating.
He lifted himself off of her and let her rest on his chest. Soon her panting returned to shallow breaths as she fell asleep on him. The first peaceful sleep she'd had in months, a warm body next to her, holding her.
Mal held her close and tight, not daring to move and wake her. She needed this, she told him so. She had to have needed it badly because she'd never asked anything of him before. He drifted off to sleep, tired.
When he woke, she was gone. He washed up, dressed, and climbed out of his dorm. He moved towards the bridge and saw her combat boots propped up on the pilot's console. He stopped in the doorway, leaning to the left side, his right hand on the door frame.
"Good morning Mal," she said a hint of a smile in her voice.