Written for comment_fic on livejournal
The prompt was Kaylee/Simon from Zoe's POV
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For months after, Zoe was barely there. She tried to keep busy, often checking and re-checking the various corners of the ship so often that even Mal said she fretted too much.
They all tried to be nice. To lend their sympathetic ears. Jayne had even tried to make her tea. But everything was a dull, gray blur. Shapes, colors, smells - all dulled. She didn't feel much of anything, these days.
But watching Simon and Kaylee stirred something still. Maybe it was memories, things that were too painful to think about unless projected onto some other couple. Or maybe it was hope that life really would carry on. But when Zoe saw the two young lovers give each other lusty smiles over the table in the mess hall, or saw Simon's gentle brush of hand on Kaylee's back when he walked by her, Zoe actually felt something.
She felt happy for them.
New love reminded her what it felt like to be happy.
Zoe knew what was in store for them. Great sex, but occasionally mediocre sex. Love and resentment and fights and making up. A few big moments of overwhelming emotion, and a million little moments of blissful disharmony.
Kaylee tried often keep Zoe company, and the doctor politely asked how she was doing. She recognized these acts as gestures of kindness, but they did nothing for her. But then Zoe told them that she knew they were together, that they didn't need to hide their happiness for Zoe's sake, and she assured Simon and Kaylee that it didn't hurt her to be reminded of love, or at least that the hurt was outweighed by the joy.
And then Simon and Kaylee became free around Zoe, much freer than around the Captain. In the mess hall, Zoe would watch Simon's finger lift a bit of spilled food on Kaylee's chin and bring it to her lips to lick clean. Zoe would watch Kaylee casually run her fingers through Simon's hair as she walked by, pulling a little at the bottom to give Simon a start. And Zoe would linger sometimes in the doorway of the infirmary, to watch Kaylee lay kisses along Simon's surprisingly broad shoulders, her red hair brushing his body as she moved down his torso, his eyes fluttering with pleasure. They noticed her watching, of course, but they never said anything. They seemed to just accept her gaze as part of their blooming relationship, never demanding to know why she stared, why her eyes sometimes watered, why she looked so lost.
At night, when Zoe was in her bunk, she couldn't see them. But she could always hear the sounds of their love. It didn't sound anything like her and Wash, but it was unmistakably the sound of love. As Zoe listened, she imagined bodies gliding against each other, hair and lips and shoulders and fingertips and tangled legs and nethers. She didn't dare put a face to these bodies, but she imagined them nonetheless. She would allow her hand to caress her own body, willing herself to ignore the memories her hands were imitating. She moved her hands downward, shutting her eyes tightly as if she could force her psyche to do this again, to bring feeling back to her body, to find the right balance of remembering and not-remembering that would bring pleasure back into her life. She did not succeed the first time she tried, but eventually she did. After a few nights, Zoe felt that surge of feeling and release that had been gone for months, returning to her finally, as she listened to the music-like score of New Love from three rooms down.