Disclaimer: I own neither Wash, Zoe, nor the geese-juggling planet. They are the intellectual property of Joss Whedon and whoever else he shares them with; I use them merely for entertainment purposes.
Author's notes: I took a break over the summer; this challenge for this one was to include the lines "This seemed like a good idea because…" and "I was improvising!" In a long-belated expression of gratitude, thanks to Cassie E, alyseci5, and jebbypal for reading and reviewing. It's always nice to hear from people.
"Honey, are you sure this isn't going to be more trouble than it's worth?" Zoe asked, giving her husband an arch look. It was one of those days when she felt more like a babysitter than a wife, when Wash got just a bit too antsy and seemed trapped in goofy, eager little kid-mode. Zoe could never decide whether these days were an amusement or an annoyance.
"Oh, come on! It'll be fun!" He had a baby goose in each hand and two more peeking out of the pockets of his Hawaiian shirt. He tossed one lightly into the air experimentally; it made a noise of annoyance. "Hmm…now how did they do this again?"
Zoe heard a muffled snort behind her, and turned. A small crowd of locals were gathering around to look at the spectacle. The snorter was the man who'd sold them the geese—he was now whispering something to his wife, who shook her head.
"Now, this one goes…up, and—ouch!" Wash waved a pinched finger around. Apparently the goslings weren't taking kindly to this whole juggling business. "Zoe, babe, could you lend me a hand?"
"Uh-uh. This was your brilliant plan. I wanted to stay aboard ship, download a vid, but you just had to find something ridiculous to do."
"Well, we'll see how jealous you are when I master this. Wash, Master of Geese-Juggling, they will call me! Or maybe Goose-Juggling. I don't know. It sounds better, but there's more than one geese. Goose. Oh, maybe Wash, Master Fowl-Juggler! That sounds pretty good."
"Right," Zoe said skeptically, as one of the goslings fluttered out of Wash's pocket and landed on his shoe.
The townspeople had obviously elected the little man with the thin red mustache as their spokesperson. "Ma'am?" he said, approaching Zoe cautiously, "what's that fella doing?"
"He's juggling geese," Zoe said flatly, keeping all traces of amusement out of her voice.
"He's—he's what, now?"
"Juggling geese!" Wash cried. "I've been on a planet where they actually do this! Really!" The gosling on his shoe tried to fly back up to his brothers, but he could only flutter a few inches from the ground before falling again. The one in Wash's right hand started a brave attempt to scale his arm.
"Oh. Um. I see." The little man gave Wash an alarmed look and went back to the crowd. They all stared at him intensely. Zoe wondered if it would upset her warrior woman image too much if she were to suddenly burst out laughing. Better not, she decided. At least right now they think one of us is sane.
"Sweetie!" she called, trying to make sure Wash heard her over the demanding cries of the birds. "Put the geese down and we'll go on back to the ship. Shepherd's probably picked up some fresh produce, so can have ourselves a little feast before the rest get back."
"Mmmm…tempting, but no!" Wash had picked up the gosling on his shoe and now threw it on a sort of diagonal arc into his other hand. It protested, loudly. "I totally had a plan for today. I was gonna take you for a romantic lunch, but then, you know, they didn't have anyplace that wasn't really expensive or really gross. And I was gonna take you swimming, but the water's all polluted. So, I had to think of something else."
"But geese?" They had escaped the confining clutches of Wash's fingers and were now chasing each other around his feet. "And this seemed like a good idea because…?"
"I was improvising!" Wash gave up trying to catch the goslings for a moment and sighed, slapping his thighs. "But hey! You can't tell me you haven't had a fun time!"
Zoe couldn't contain her snort of laughter. "You know you're crazy, right?"
"Well, I'm neither a hero nor a genius nor a drooling ape man, so I had to have some distinguishing characteristic." He waved a hand at the geese, who were running off towards the market where he'd bought them. "You're free, little geese! Run! Be happy, and avoid being eaten by cats!"
Crazy, all right. "Come on, dear," she said. "Let's go find something to eat."