Disclaimer: All belong to almighty Joss Whedon. Especially his 'little trick'.


"I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar."

When the Captain threw me a glance, I shrugged. I may have been married to the pilot, but that didn't mean I was in a position to hear the inner workings of his mind. I gripped his chair instead, offering what I could of comfort.

My husband, Hoban Washburne, was not only the best pilot on the better side of the 'verse, but was also, at the moment, handling more than he could handle. Malcolm Reynolds, our Captain, just started a battle to get out clean, and now my husband had to dip and dive our unarmed ship through masses of hurtling and exploding ones.

A piece of ship came, for instance, flying straight at us, which made Wash have to turn at a sharp angle to avoid impact. This led him to a flying hunk of Alliance ship, which he had to duck under, and on course for a collision with a small one-man ship.

This he couldn't avoid. He managed to let out a hurried "The hell-?" before impact, which didn't sound like it hurt Serenity too much.

"It's okay!" my husband screamed, "I'm a leaf on the wind!"

"What does that mean?" my Captain inquiried, but Wash had other things on his mind. I noticed, with worried shock, that his movements didn't align with the ship's.

"We're fried!" he announced, "I got no control!"

Mal rushed over to the Communications to speak with Kaylee. I took the moment to put a hand on Wash's arm. He looked up at me with two clear blue eyes, smiling through his fear, and I could see him trying to comfort me back. I chuckled inwardly and remembered why I married this man.

"Where's the backup? Where's the backup?" Captain Reynolds asked, and I glanced swiftly at the panel.

"Backup reads at twenty percent," I answered, before shifting my gaze back to my husband's. I needed the truth from him now. "Can you get us down?"

I saw the ghost of a grimace on Wash's face. "I'm gonna have to glide her in."

I remembered what I could of Firefly-Class Transports, and within a fraction of a second that they weren't built for that. "Will that work?" I asked.

Wash let out a breath. "Long as that landing strip is made of fluffy pillows..."

I couldn't afford to be shaky. Now was the time for me to be harder than a rock; I needed to offer all stability I could.

Mal grabbed the intercom and shouted, "Everybody to the upper decks! Strap yourselves to something!"

I grabbed the copilot's chair, the closest one I could find, and glanced at the backup power. It was still only twenty percent, not enough to brake. We were dependent on friction to stop us when we landed full-speed. I wouldn't let the worry show to my face - not at a time like this, when harder-than-steel was the only thing that would support my husband on this wild adventure. But that didn't mean I wasn't worried.

When we crashed into the airstrip, the sound of grinding metal thrust itself into our bones. Wash turned the ship with what power we had, so that the scraping was tail-first. A metal contraption ripped the port thruster from the ship, sounding like Serenity had let out a loud, garbled moan of pain.

Then the tail of the ship crashed into the back of the hangar, and we were still. After a pause, Wash grinned the grin of a proud madman.

"I am a leaf on the wind," he said, relieved. "Watch-"

"Wash!"

My restraints were off and I was to him in a second flat. His head rolled downward to face the harpoon sticking insensitively from his chest and he stopped moving. I shook him, willing him to get up. "Wash, baby, baby, no, come on," I implored him, "You gotta move, you gotta move, baby, please-"

I wasn't much for denial. I always accepted the truth for what it was, no matter what it was. When men were shot down in the war, they were dead, no matter how close you used to be with them.

But Wash... Wash couldn't die. He just couldn't.

Mal ripped me away from my husband, who was already starting to get cold, barely saving me from a second harpoon when it crashed through. I vaguely started to remember something from the war; if you're crying over someone's death for too long, you'll join them without much pause.

I wondered, for a second, if I really didn't want that to happen.

The Captain was pulling me away from the bridge. I needed to be with Wash. He needed help - maybe it missed his heart! Maybe he's not dead!

"Look, Zoe, later," Mal said, struggling against me. "He's already dead!"

I stopped. He was right. My husband was dead.

"Wash..." I choked out.

"I know, Zoe," Mal said softly, "I know."

For a second, I glanced back at the cockpit, then back at my Captain. Just another fallen solder. I let my face harden. "Let's go," I said firmly.

We ran down to the cargo deck, meeting the rest of the armed crew. Some were uncomfortable with their guns, as was expected - a happy-go-lucky mechanic like Kaylee wasn't expected to have much expertise in killing.

"Jayne, take point," Mal said, and Jayne moved to the airlock. I tried not to look at River, who was already crying. Somehow she knew... Just another fallen soldier. I hefted my gun.

"Go!" Jayne shouted, and we made our way, guns pointed, to Mr. Universe's black room.

It was a small entrance room. We entered through a small hallway and on the other side were blast doors, which Mal opened to discover were well reinforced. I suddenly saw great vantage for this room.

"Sir," I said, acquiring my captain's attention, "This is a good hold point."

Mal shook his head. "We all stay together-"

"No." There's a way to kill these creatures. "They have to come through here. They'll bottleneck, and we can thin 'em out. We get pushed back, there's the blast doors."

"I can rig 'em so they won't reopen once they close," Kaylee offered.

Mal saw this as an opportunity. "Then you shut 'em and you hide 'till-"

I wouldn't let that happen. "We need to draw them 'till it's done. This is the place. We'll buy you the time."

He reluctantly nodded, seeing the good in my plan. I set myself to making sure my weaponry was secure. Jayne said something about crates for cover and began to move some to the side of the room with the open blast doors.

Then Kaylee noticed. "Wait, Wash-where's Wash?"

Just another fallen soldier. Just another fallen soldier. "He ain't comin'," I told them. I focused on loading my rifle and pretended the room didn't suddenly grow still as realization dawned on the rest of the crew just what I had implied.

"Move the gorram crates!" Jayne shouted, taking their eyes off of me.

Mal and Jayne did something with grenades. I blinked, focusing only on the bullets and my gun. Soon the Captain was in front of me, saying something about attention.

I was done loading my rifle. I cocked it and replied, "To the job, sir."

I took a steady breath as I backed toward the crates and lifted my gun. Just another fallen soldier. Just another fallen soldier. Defeat the enemy, then mourn the loss.