Author's note: I'm taking some liberties with this story. I know we find out Zoe is pregnant but I wanted the baby to be even more special than an unplanned thing. So I thought of this little story and I apologize if it's been done before (which I'm sure it has) but I'm trying my darndest to make it original in it's telling.

Enjoy!

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Zoe Washburne considered herself a strong woman. Heck, no one in the Verse could handle stressful situations quite as coolly and collected as she could. Not even Captain Malcolm Reynolds could give such an icy gaze, an expressionless face or keep so deadly silent as Zoe.

This coldness had increased very obviously following the untimely death of the one man she had let her walls down for. His absence left her even more guarded than before because she felt within her a need to be even stronger for the sake of his memory. When the Captain had mentioned maybe moving the dinosaur figurines off the consul Zoe had shot the idea down with a single look. Mal had accepted at that moment that they would sit there until Serenity fell from the sky or the last one of them finally kicked it…whichever came first. Zoe felt it was one small way to honor her husband.

Kaylee had commented once that Zoe never shed a tear. Mal knew differently, he had been there when it happened. He had seen Zoe break for a moment before the dark need for revenge reared its ugly head.

Everyone worried about her, she knew that, but she had set her eyes on a goal and nothing short of God Himself would stop her. She was going to kill every last gorram Reaver in the 'Verse.

So it was this specific day. Zoe was on her most recent scout for Reavers who were apart from groups, who were left behind on raids, who were too busy eating someone to notice the shotgun aimed their way. Anywhere she could pick them off, she would do it.

But Mal knew she was getting restless, getting…careless. He tried to think of something he could say that would make her think twice about putting herself in danger like she did but he just couldn't think of anything stronger than her love for Wash…what could he possibly persuade her with? She had even started taking off on the shuttle without his permission to check out a possible report of Reaver activity. His First Mate, Mal knew, didn't care anymore if she lived or died…all that mattered to her was the hunt.

"Zoe?" Mal approached the shuttle that had just reconnected with Serenity with a purposeful stride and his most serious expression.

The shuttle door slid open and Zoe stood there, gun propped on her shoulder, expression blank, mouth in a grim smirk.

"I'm back, Captain," she said darkly.

"Any luck?"

"Took down three strays," Zoe replied, pumping the shells out of her sawed-off and tucking them in the pocket of her vest. "Not as many as I would have liked."

"Zoe…" Mal tried to think over the words before he said them, "This is insanity. I know you feel like you're doing this for Wash, but do you honestly think he'd want you out there puttin' yourself in all kinds o' dangerous spots like this?"

"Doesn't much matter what he wants, does it?" Zoe asked, her voice completely emotionless. "He ain't here to tell me otherwise."

"I know he ain't, Zo," Mal tried to make her see his point, "And that's why you gotta think this through. Just what did he die for?"

"He didn't die for nothin', sir. He didn't choose to…he was taken by no noble choice of his own."

Mal really had no reply to that. He hung his head and nodded, knowing he would be hunting down every last damned Reaver himself if it had been Inara taken so suddenly. Something had snapped in Zoe and he knew Wash had been the glue that held it together all along.

Zoe took the opportunity to push by as the Captain fell silent and she made her way to her bunk to clean her weapon. There was a little blood on the butt from where she had bashed that last Reaver's nose into his skull.

Yes, Zoe Washburne was a strong woman. Solid as a rock in the eyes of the crew and in the eyes of the Captain himself but when Zoe Washburne climbed down that ladder and shut that hatch, she finally let herself break.

Big salty tears streaked her face as soon as she sat on the foot of the bed; her shoulders which had been pulled back in a defiant stance now slumped forward as quiet sobs shook her entire frame. No one knew and no one would ever see it.

Today she was going to do something she had been avoiding for so long. In her attempt to be strong, she had never yet opened the box that she knew was lying just under the bed…but she finally felt like she was ready. Six months later.

She knelt down next to the bed on the side that had been empty for far too long, and would be from now on, and pulled the box out slowly. She took a shaky breath as she carefully lifted the lid. She smiled slightly and sadly as she lifted out a dinosaur figurine she had not seen before and assumed it must be one of the more valuable ones. After all, those "toys" were antiques from Earth-that—was worth a small fortune but Wash had never told anyone but her for fear of Jayne or Mal pawning them off.

Next she pulled out a book and read the title carefully. A Collection of Works from the Great English and American Poets of Earth-that-was. This came as a shock to Zoe! Wash had never shown any sort of interest in reading, let alone poetry! She flipped the pages a few times and then set it aside, wondering if he ever read it at all.

The box contained several items that summed up Wash's personality and who he was. Flight medals (MANY of these), his pilot's license, his discharge papers from the war, pictures of their wedding day and lots of random shots of Zoe around the ship, a capture of their first anniversary dance, some credits and a bright colored Hawaiian shirt, of course.

Zoe felt drained after she dug through that box of memories and she had cried herself dry once again. She was about to pack it all away again when she had a sudden urge and pulled the shirt from the bottom of the box. She pressed it to her face and breathed in deeply. It still smelled like him, having been sealed in that box without the air to affect it, and she found herself incapable of further thought or action and fell onto the bed with her face pressed into the material.

An hour or so later, Zoe's eyes fluttered open and she sat up with a sigh, the shirt still clenched in her fists. She lifted it and sniffed the collar to find her scent had mingled with it and his smell had faded significantly. Zoe's heart squeezed painfully and she slid her hand down the fabric. A crinkle made her stop her musings and she looked down in surprise. There was an envelope sticking out of the breast pocket.

Zoe pulled it out and saw it simply said: To My Autumn Flower.

She flipped it over and slid her finger under the flap and pulled out from it a sheet of paper covered in what she recognized immediately as Wash's more careful handwriting. She gently unfolded it and started reading:

Hey Beautiful Wife of mine,

If you're reading this then you're either snooping around in my personal stash or the worse option…I died somehow. Well if that's the case, I hope I went out heroically, saving your life or Kaylee or Mal…heck, maybe even Jayne! I just hope I saved SOMEONE anyway and I didn't just do something stupid like put my suit on wrong for a hull repair or trip on the stairs or something dumb like that.

Anyway, if you're reading this note it means you're either very cold hearted and started pawning off my stuff immediately or you've finally reached the point where you're looking back over our time together. I wrote this letter not long after we were adrift that time and you were in a bad way when you saved Kaylee from that fire. I realized I almost lost you and I would have felt like I had left something undone if, God forbid, the same thing happened to me.

So here it goes. First things first, I guess. Zoe, bao bei, you are my hero! You're the strongest woman I have ever had the privilege of beholding (pretty dang fancy sounding isn't that?) and you are the only woman who has ever made me feel the way I do when I even get a glimpse of you! You keep me strong when there's no way I could keep my cool or even think clearly. You see past my insecurities and my immaturities and all those other "ities" I struggle with and you brought out the man in this boy. Gorramit, girl I can't even explain how much I admire, desire and adore you. So I guess I won't even try because all my praise would only come up short. Just know, Zoe, that I am the man I am today because you chose to love me back.

And second things second. Promise me you won't do anything you would normally do when you're angry like rush out and kill everything that moves. If I'm dead, I want you accept it, baby! Don't try to be a hero and be all statue-like and cranky. Let people in and keep people close because people are the only things worth holding on to. Kaylee loves you dearly. Mal respects the hell out of you. Book prays for you (for all of us) every night. Hell, baby, these people are family and they will be there for you. So, what I'm saying is, you don't have to face life alone because, even if I'm gone, they're still there for you.

Alright, let's get down to business. This might come as a shock to you, but I do think about the future and possibilities and so I was thinking about what would happen if I died tomorrow and…I didn't like what I discovered. If I died tomorrow, you would never get to meet that child you wanted us to make (because I agree, we would make some pretty damn good looking kids, Zo!). So I talked to Simon about it and, after a rather awkward discussion and an even more awkward handing over of the goods, he has stored in cryo for you my contribution to the first little member of the Washburne family. I hope that stupid planet I came from with all its pollution and crap didn't make my half ineffective and I sincerely hope you've got the other working half or I just went through all that for nothing!

I hope I'm there to meet her (I don't know why, but I have a feeling our first child is going to be a girl) but if, for some reason, I'm not, I want you to tell her that her daddy loves her more than all the stars in the 'Verse and that he wishes so much he could have been there to meet her and do all those fatherly things with her and spoil her rotten just like he spoils her mommy. Oh, and tell her good things about me like what a kick ass pilot I was and how I gave Mall that blood transfusion and stuff. You know, make me sound like someone she would be proud of because that's all I can ever hope to be for my family.

Well, this letter is getting really long and Mal's hollerin' at me to get on the bridge, probably being tailed by the Alliance as usual. Honestly, that guy can't do anything for himself! So I have one more little thing to mention and I'll consider this letter complete. I'm guessing you found my little secret by now. Yeah I DO read poetry and yes I actually get what it all means. Shocked, huh? Well I found a poem in that book, the one you probably set aside without another thought, that might just give you an tiny idea of how I feel about you. Go ahead, turn to page 165 and read it. I even left a note by it so you're sure to read the right one. Don't want you to get a wrong impression from someone like Edgar Allen Poe or something. Ok. I'm done now.

Love forever, your husband,

Hoban "Wash" Washburne

P.S.: God, why did my parents name me that?

Zoe carefully folded the letter and sat there in numb disbelief. Why had she never thought to do something like this? It was almost as if he knew he would be the first to go. She reached beside her and picked up the poetry book and flipped it open to a well worn page. The name at the top was Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the poem under the note that said For my Zoe read:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost Saints,- I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears of all my life!- and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death."

Zoe sat in complete silence as she read those words over and over again. Something inside her stirred and she recognized it immediately. Hope. Hope was showing its long overdue face deep inside her. If God choose, I shall but love thee better after death. Wash had given her all the love he could offer in life and it had been an overwhelming amount, but even now, in a silent and hauntingly beautiful way, he still loved her. The child she thought a lost dream was now a very tangible possibility and she found herself rising to her feet and heading for the ladder. Simon…she had to find Simon! God bless that man she had been so privileged to call her own…and Godspeed to those little guys he left behind for her.

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I wanted to end on a cheerful and humorous note so…there you are. I think it turned out pretty alright! Let me know what you, my readers think!