If someone told me two years ago I'd be married to the most gorgeous woman in the universe, I would have asked them what they smoked and if I could get my hands on some. Me? The ladies man Wash being tied down with 14K handcuffs? No way!
Ok, ok. Maybe I wasn't so much the ladies' man. Got a lot of flirting done, though. Pilots tend to be the "love 'em and leave 'em" types, anyway. You go from port to port, you have a chick in each one. Hey, no problem!
I've never hurt for work. People have ships, they need a jockey to fly 'em, and I'm one of the best there is for hire. When I took this job, I was excited about the prospect of flying an old Firefly class. These babies are classics - the Alliance can have their fancy-looking, boring cruisers. This ship's got real guts.
Of course, I was so unprepared for what else was aboard. Zoë...gorgeous woman, tough as nails. We got into an argument about some modifications I made to the controls and she threatened to kick my ass. Call me weird, but I had never been so turned on by the prospect of getting my ass kicked. I tell her this, and she stops yelling at me. Two seconds later, we are both on the floor laughing.
I'm hopelessly hooked. She's like the best drug there is and I can't get enough. I really like making her laugh. She doesn't laugh enough, and it's her best feature. I keep wondering what she'll look like when she's old and hope I live long enough to find out.
Better put the soda away. Mal bitches if he catches me with a soda at the helm or my feet on the controls. Ah, he means well. Besides, I have him to thank for the two greatest ladies in my life...
Anywhere where there's a ship to fly and Zoë's with me...that's home.