What Nobody Gets
By Xodarap
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Firefly, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don't sue, I don't have any money anyway.
Summary: Wash and Zoe muse about their relationship, and what nobody gets.
Author's note: I don't typically get interested in couples that are canon, and I don't normally write about characters in a show that's only three episodes old (as of my writing this). But something about Wash's character interests me, maybe it's because he reminds me of Xander so much. Anyway, something he said to Saffron in "Our Mrs. Reynolds" got me thinking.
Dedication: For Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
(FF, W/Z, PG13, short)
*
I see the looks we get thrown, mostly by strangers. Once in a while even aboard Serenity, usually from Jayne. And I know what they're thinking. Truthfully, I even find myself thinking it sometimes. What is a woman like her doing with a guy like him? And when they find out we're married, they get this look on their face, like a dog being shown a card trick. I think it took Jayne a solid week to wipe that look off his face. Every now and then I still catch him looking at one of us, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He means no disrespect. He's not a bad guy, just a little rough around the edges. He honestly just can't figure it out.
Truth be told, that doesn't bother me all that much. What bothers me is the other look. The one they get when they think they've got it figured out. Because if you're attracted to a woman who's strong, or aggressive, that somehow makes you less of a man. And if you're married to her, well then you're whipped, or henpecked. A lesser man might find himself in the position of constantly defending his masculinity, getting in fistfights with anyone who looked at him cockeyed. He might even find himself trying to prove to his wife how much of a man he is, succeeding in only making an ass out of himself. I like to think I'm not that petty. It isn't being judged that I mind, it's the arrogant attitude of these so-called men who think that being a man is all about how many women you can fuck and how many men you can beat up. These pompous, sanctimonious, boneheaded.Okay, maybe I do mind being judged. But I won't give them the satisfaction of letting them know that. It doesn't matter what they think.
You know what matters? The most beautiful woman I had ever seen came into my life, and shown some light onto my dismal little corner of the universe. And she showed me that love is still possible, even in the emptiness of space. Yeah she's strong, and tough as nails when she needs to be. But she also has a big heart, a wonderful mind, and a poetic soul. And I love her with every ounce of my being. That's what matters. Zoe matters. Then Serenity, then everything else. And that's what nobody gets.
*
Things were hard when I was young. Actually, they were hard when I grew up too, so I guess not a whole lot has changed. Where I'm from, people work long and hard just to barely get by. But I suppose that's true for most places these days. People depend on each other, but mostly they have to learn how to depend on themselves. Because there may come a day when all you have to depend on is yourself. That's how I was raised. Then I met Mal, and I learned what it really meant to depend on someone else. He showed me that in war, dependence was just part of what it meant to fight as a unit. He used to say, 'No man is an island'. He showed me the true meanings of the words bravery, and loyalty. And when the war was over, and we suddenly found ourselves under Alliance rule, he taught me that sometimes that hardest part of fighting is knowing when to stop. A piece of advice that he has a hard time following himself most days.
After the war, love was the last thing on my mind. And I have to admit, the first time I met him, I didn't think much of him. He seemed.immature to me, like he didn't take anything seriously. I came to learn that that's just how he dealt with the universe around him. He just decided one day that life was too short not to have fun. So he made his own fun, in everything he did. I had never met anyone like him before, so warm and compassionate, with a sense of humor. After the war, there weren't many things to laugh about. But he could always get me to smile. I think I laughed more in the first week we knew each other then I had in my entire life, since I was a child. And he loved it, he loved making me laugh. He said it was like music, it was so beautiful. And when he told me that, this tough as nails, battle-hardened warrior blushed. I actually blushed.
Now, women like me aren't exactly rare in this day and age. Some of the more primitive planets still view women as weak and needing to be protected, making them meek and submissive. The way Saffron pretended to be. But out here, in the void, it's either stand up or get stepped on. That stuff just doesn't fly. But most men still get all gooey for that doe- eyed innocent routine. The very same men that I fought with and bled with, they saw me as a comrade, not as a woman. Romance may have been the last thing on my mind, but it was still damn infuriating. Why couldn't I be both?
That's when I knew that Wash was different. He made me feel like a woman, without insinuating that I was weaker because of it. He made me fall in love with him. And at night, when he slips into bed and wraps his arms around me, I'm not ashamed to admit that I feel safe. It doesn't make me feel dependent. It just makes me feel loved.
So yeah, I get irritated when I see the puzzled stares. And I get pissed, when I see the way people look at him, because he follows orders from his wife. Like it makes him any less of a man. But he shows them just how much of a man he is, by not having to show them. I just want to tell those people that sometimes it doesn't matter who orders who around during the day, or who holds who at night. Sometimes two people just love each other, and that's all that matters. I think that's what nobody gets.
*
Wash quietly stepped into the quarters he shared with his wife Zoe. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before walking across the room and undressing. Mal liked him to stay on the bridge as much as he could at night, so Zoe almost always turned in before he did. It had become almost a ritual between them, him coming in late and slipping into bed. He watched her sleeping form as he got ready for bed. She was facing away from him, giving him a view of her bare back in the starlight before the rest of her body disappeared under the sheet. Wash slipped under the sheet as gently as he could and wrapped his around her midsection, pressing his body against hers. He could feel Zoe stir softly against him, settling into his warm embrace.
"Love you," she mumbled sleepily.
Wash smiled. Brushing her hair away, he placed a feather light kiss on the back of her neck. "I love you too, baby," he said softly. "Goodnight, Zoe."
"'Night, Wash," she returned before drifting off to sleep again.
Wash looked up at the ceiling in their quarters for a moment. "Goodnight, Serenity," he whispered. Turning back to his wife, he gently pressed his forehead to her back, and fell asleep.
~fin~
By Xodarap
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Firefly, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don't sue, I don't have any money anyway.
Summary: Wash and Zoe muse about their relationship, and what nobody gets.
Author's note: I don't typically get interested in couples that are canon, and I don't normally write about characters in a show that's only three episodes old (as of my writing this). But something about Wash's character interests me, maybe it's because he reminds me of Xander so much. Anyway, something he said to Saffron in "Our Mrs. Reynolds" got me thinking.
Dedication: For Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
(FF, W/Z, PG13, short)
*
I see the looks we get thrown, mostly by strangers. Once in a while even aboard Serenity, usually from Jayne. And I know what they're thinking. Truthfully, I even find myself thinking it sometimes. What is a woman like her doing with a guy like him? And when they find out we're married, they get this look on their face, like a dog being shown a card trick. I think it took Jayne a solid week to wipe that look off his face. Every now and then I still catch him looking at one of us, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. He means no disrespect. He's not a bad guy, just a little rough around the edges. He honestly just can't figure it out.
Truth be told, that doesn't bother me all that much. What bothers me is the other look. The one they get when they think they've got it figured out. Because if you're attracted to a woman who's strong, or aggressive, that somehow makes you less of a man. And if you're married to her, well then you're whipped, or henpecked. A lesser man might find himself in the position of constantly defending his masculinity, getting in fistfights with anyone who looked at him cockeyed. He might even find himself trying to prove to his wife how much of a man he is, succeeding in only making an ass out of himself. I like to think I'm not that petty. It isn't being judged that I mind, it's the arrogant attitude of these so-called men who think that being a man is all about how many women you can fuck and how many men you can beat up. These pompous, sanctimonious, boneheaded.Okay, maybe I do mind being judged. But I won't give them the satisfaction of letting them know that. It doesn't matter what they think.
You know what matters? The most beautiful woman I had ever seen came into my life, and shown some light onto my dismal little corner of the universe. And she showed me that love is still possible, even in the emptiness of space. Yeah she's strong, and tough as nails when she needs to be. But she also has a big heart, a wonderful mind, and a poetic soul. And I love her with every ounce of my being. That's what matters. Zoe matters. Then Serenity, then everything else. And that's what nobody gets.
*
Things were hard when I was young. Actually, they were hard when I grew up too, so I guess not a whole lot has changed. Where I'm from, people work long and hard just to barely get by. But I suppose that's true for most places these days. People depend on each other, but mostly they have to learn how to depend on themselves. Because there may come a day when all you have to depend on is yourself. That's how I was raised. Then I met Mal, and I learned what it really meant to depend on someone else. He showed me that in war, dependence was just part of what it meant to fight as a unit. He used to say, 'No man is an island'. He showed me the true meanings of the words bravery, and loyalty. And when the war was over, and we suddenly found ourselves under Alliance rule, he taught me that sometimes that hardest part of fighting is knowing when to stop. A piece of advice that he has a hard time following himself most days.
After the war, love was the last thing on my mind. And I have to admit, the first time I met him, I didn't think much of him. He seemed.immature to me, like he didn't take anything seriously. I came to learn that that's just how he dealt with the universe around him. He just decided one day that life was too short not to have fun. So he made his own fun, in everything he did. I had never met anyone like him before, so warm and compassionate, with a sense of humor. After the war, there weren't many things to laugh about. But he could always get me to smile. I think I laughed more in the first week we knew each other then I had in my entire life, since I was a child. And he loved it, he loved making me laugh. He said it was like music, it was so beautiful. And when he told me that, this tough as nails, battle-hardened warrior blushed. I actually blushed.
Now, women like me aren't exactly rare in this day and age. Some of the more primitive planets still view women as weak and needing to be protected, making them meek and submissive. The way Saffron pretended to be. But out here, in the void, it's either stand up or get stepped on. That stuff just doesn't fly. But most men still get all gooey for that doe- eyed innocent routine. The very same men that I fought with and bled with, they saw me as a comrade, not as a woman. Romance may have been the last thing on my mind, but it was still damn infuriating. Why couldn't I be both?
That's when I knew that Wash was different. He made me feel like a woman, without insinuating that I was weaker because of it. He made me fall in love with him. And at night, when he slips into bed and wraps his arms around me, I'm not ashamed to admit that I feel safe. It doesn't make me feel dependent. It just makes me feel loved.
So yeah, I get irritated when I see the puzzled stares. And I get pissed, when I see the way people look at him, because he follows orders from his wife. Like it makes him any less of a man. But he shows them just how much of a man he is, by not having to show them. I just want to tell those people that sometimes it doesn't matter who orders who around during the day, or who holds who at night. Sometimes two people just love each other, and that's all that matters. I think that's what nobody gets.
*
Wash quietly stepped into the quarters he shared with his wife Zoe. He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before walking across the room and undressing. Mal liked him to stay on the bridge as much as he could at night, so Zoe almost always turned in before he did. It had become almost a ritual between them, him coming in late and slipping into bed. He watched her sleeping form as he got ready for bed. She was facing away from him, giving him a view of her bare back in the starlight before the rest of her body disappeared under the sheet. Wash slipped under the sheet as gently as he could and wrapped his around her midsection, pressing his body against hers. He could feel Zoe stir softly against him, settling into his warm embrace.
"Love you," she mumbled sleepily.
Wash smiled. Brushing her hair away, he placed a feather light kiss on the back of her neck. "I love you too, baby," he said softly. "Goodnight, Zoe."
"'Night, Wash," she returned before drifting off to sleep again.
Wash looked up at the ceiling in their quarters for a moment. "Goodnight, Serenity," he whispered. Turning back to his wife, he gently pressed his forehead to her back, and fell asleep.
~fin~