Disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own, or pretend to own the characters involved in this work of fiction. Besides, who wants to mess with a woman who can kill me with her pinky?
Please Note: That this is dedicated to FranklyMyDear89 and a result of late night plotting after my introduction to the show. If I get the way they speak wrong, it's because I haven't seen enough of the show yet and I'm a terrible grammar Nazi—the kind that corrects you as you speak. Yeah.
Enjoy, su!
Like a Lioness Going In for the Kill
He was going to die.
That was all there was to it. He had gone and opened Pandora's forbidden box to take a look at her wicked delights and, during that single moment of drunken stupidity, had sealed his fate. The amazon was going to kill him and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Except maybe sit there and rock himself while he went through a mental list of things he wish he could have accomplished before these last few moments of life (of which actually getting Mal's stupid junker off the planet was one; another was getting people to take him seriously whilst wearing his lip ferret. The likelihood of this happening was slim to none, so he'd shaved it off last night).
Presently, Wash was sitting beside a still very unconscious—still very NAKED—Scarlet O'Hara (he'd had yet to actually learn her name and the hotel she'd checked them into was just that kind of place).
He didn't remember much after he'd bought the beautiful (terrifying) woman a drink the night prior, but from what he did, he knew that she would be killing him with little more than her pinky. You didn't get eyes as dark and menacing as hers without being in a war of some kind. And last he'd checked, the only war that she could have been in had ended just a year prior.
In short, he was going to die and it didn't even occur to him to sneak out before Miss O'Hara woke up.
It was with a raging hangover and loud groan that Zoe stirred. At first she wondered exactly why it felt like her stomach was doing an acrobatic show for the rest of her organs and her mouth felt a like it had been stuffed cotton, but when her head gave a sharp and rather violent jerk, she remembered.
Last night had been the first ever Unification Day, marking it a whole year since the galaxy had fallen under Alliance rule. This meant that she had to get very drunk, very fast, just so she could cope with the bitter reminder of their loss.
Zoe cursed in every language that she knew and sat up before then wondering why she was naked. Her answer came in the form of a terrified keen from the space beside her.
"I am so sorry," what was apparently her bedmate whimpered. He was all thin limbs and messy blonde hair and paler than a child from one of the core planets; she remembered him as that mustachioed little twig the captain had hired as their new pilot. "I am so sorry," he repeated like a mantra, "I am so sorry, please—please—don't kill me!"
Well, she wasn't going to since she was just as shocked to see him in her bed as he seemed to be about being there. But now that he'd put the thought there…
It was with a low growl that she reached for her pistol and leveled it between his eyes.
Wash let out a wail and saw his life before his eyes.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't plug you up."
Honestly? He couldn't think of any; but if it meant that she wasn't going to kill him, he'd tell her he was a pretty little girl and prance around in a ridiculously pink and frilled dress. As it was, he could only gape up at her in horror and shudder.
And maybe it was the fact that he couldn't find the words to even beg for his own life or the fact that he just looked so…pathetic (cute) sitting there trembling before her, but something in her cold heart melted. Zoe lowered her gun and just watched him with raised brows, debating what to do next. Certainly he felt bad about taking advantage of her while she was drunk (although he'd have had to have been pretty smashed himself to even attempt to seduce her after the look she'd given the celebrating patrons in the bar last night), but she couldn't just let him go without some kind of punishment. Dark eyes glinted in the dim light and a smile twisted itself across her pretty face as she began stalking her prey.
"So you're sorry, huh?" she purred. A hand lashed out faster than a jack rabbit and snatched him to her, holding him in place by the hair on the back of his head. She was surprised by how soft it was.
Wash nodded as much as her tight grip would allow and promptly began to cry.
His angel of death laughed and pushed him back onto the mattress, pinning him beneath her as she straddled him. She was glorious, he thought faintly, beautiful in the way a lioness is beautiful just before it snaps the neck of a gazelle. Had he the courage to reach up and brush her dark curls from her face, he'd tell her so. Something ghosted his inner thigh and Wash gasped.
That cruel smile suddenly wasn't so cruel and Wash understood that Miss O'Hara wasn't going to kill him—although he may as well be dead when she was done with him. He suddenly didn't mind that thought and returned her smile shyly before shaking her hand loose and leaning up to kiss her.
"It had to be the hottest sex I'd ever had," Zoe explained to Kaylee over breakfast one morning when the younger girl had asked. She patted her husband's knee while he sat beside her, a huge shit eating grin splitting his face wide open. "And that was saying something. If he hadn't survived the night before with me, I would have been afraid that I was going to break him."
The mechanic sighed dreamily in her seat across the table and propped her chin in her hands to stare at them with hooded eyes. "That's so sweet, you fallin' for him at first sight and the like," she breathed.
Wash snorted. "Are you kidding me? I thought she was going to kill me anyways when she was done the second time around! And then she showed up a few weeks later demanding another round," he waved a hand in the air for emphasis, "I thought she'd change her mind about letting me live if I didn't give in."
"We were only in it for the sex at first," his wife agreed and drummed her fingers against his knee warningly. He gave her a weak smile. "But how could I possibly leave him alone after that? He was just so cute when he cowered in fear like that; it made me want to pick on him even more."
Kaylee merely nodded in understanding and took a sip of her coffee just as Simon passed the kitchen on his way to the infirmary; it was how she was with him whenever he said something stupid. The way his pretty eyes went wide with horror when his foot came into contact with his mouth had to be the sexiest thing she had ever seen.
Although that may in part be due to Zoe's influence…
"And then you asked her to marry you?" she prompted with an awkward cough to distract herself. Zoe gave her a knowing smile.
"God no, I don't think I'd have ever worked up that kind of courage," Wash informed her wistfully. "I was too scared she was going to fill me with lead for even thinking about it."
"And I was getting tired of waiting for him to work up the nerve, so I asked him."
"You mean menaced, dear."
"Are you complaining?"
"Not at all."
The two laughed the kind of laugh that only those who found themselves lucky enough to have pure (albeit mystifying) wedded bliss and leaned in to kiss each other. Kaylee giggled and got up to do her dishes and give the couple some privacy—humming to cover the sounds of them stumbling out the door towards their quarters at the same time the Shepherd was making his way past. He merely rolled his eyes to the heavens and continued on his way about his morning ritual.
END
Before anyone asks, this was a request from my good friend FranklyMyDear89, who is a huge fan of the show and got me into it because we share a mutual love of Nathan Fillion (star of both Firefly and Castle 3). She'd come to me saying that there weren't any fics that she had seen so far on how Zoe and Wash (two of my favorite characters) got together since the show wasn't around long enough to delve into that and we commenced debating; it was agreed that there had been a night of drunken debauchery, some crying and menacing, followed by some 'my god, you're so cute when you cower like that' cuddling. I had to laugh and begin plotting how I was going to do this for her.
So Frankly, mon cher, this one is for you.
EDIT: No, I haven't seen all of Firefly (at fourteen episodes, I've only seen about six or seven), and yes, I'll admit that I jumped into this fandom before fully knowing what I was doing, but the point of this fic is not to be canon (would I be writing it if it were meant to be that way?). So before I get anymore scathing reviews telling me that I failed as a writer and that I had no right to mess with the canon like I did, bear this in mind: this is a FANfiction, meaning I can do whatever the heck I want with the characters without any of y'all's permission (outside of a disclaimor, because I clearly don't own the series). It was a fun idea between friends and only meant to amuse us and anyone else who came across it. I don't appreciate being lectured via review about my lack of 'canonical foundation' my apparent 'ooc' take on the characters. The events that take place in this fic are speculation and not meant to be taken seriously, and besides, what fanfiction writer hasn't jumped into writing for a series after only watching a few episodes or reading a few books? I wasn't the first, and I CLEARLY won't be the last-so bugger off if you don't have anything constructive to say. *huffs*
Reviews save lives. And allow authors like this one to cackle evilly as they imagine the scene above—even while writing it.
