A/N: I always wondered what it was that bothered Zoë so much about Wash. After serious contemplation on the matter, this fic was born. Oh, and "soup strainer" is for Jonah… the nerd.
It's The 'Stache
She couldn't place it, but there was something about him that bothered her. Oh, he was nice enough, and pleasant enough, and gorramit, he was a brilliant pilot, but something about him wasn't right.
The Captain was infatuated with him. He went on and on about Wash this and Wash that and the leg-long list of recommendations, even though the gorram man spent more time playing with his plastic dinosaurs than flying Serenity. The Captain brushed aside her objections and welcomed Wash into their life aboard Serenity.
It was at dinner one night, when they were celebrating the hiring of their new mechanic, when Zoë first realized what it was. It wasn't his personality. She liked him. He was funny, and he could be sweet in a dumb man-child kind of way. But there was something wrong with his appearance.
She didn't notice that she was gazing at him, eyes half closed, studying him closely, and that the Captain was shooting suspicious looks between the two of them. Wash was unconcernedly eating his soup, talking to Kaylee about the ship, and suddenly something clicked in her brain.
Zoë dropped her spoon into her soup with a great splash as the realization hit her. She finally knew what bothered her, and how had it not been obvious? Jumping to her feet, she ran from the room and into her quarters, backing away from the realization in horror.
The Captain walked into the room. "What in the gorram 'Verse is wrong with you, Zoë? What're you runnin' from?"
Zoë composed herself and looked him in the eye. "I'm runnin' from nothin', sir. Just—Just—"
"You runnin' from the room like your hair's on fire gotta be something'. Now you can tell me, or I'll send Wash down here and get him to get it outta you, 'cause I know how much you like him."
Zoë stood stock still and silent. Mal shrugged and left the room, and a moment later, Wash found Zoë in the same position, staring at him.
"Zoë? Mal said something's wrong with you. He said I could help?" Wash approached her and she stayed silent, staring as the horrendous wrongness came closer. "Zoë, um, I been wantin' to tell you something… I really like you. I think maybe—"
"No!" Zoë cried as he came closer. "Not until you get rid of that ruttin' thing!"
"Rid of what, sorry?" said Wash, bewildered.
"That—That ruttin' soup strainer!"
Wash blinked at her.
"Your mustache!" Zoë closed her eyes against the horridness that was Wash's mustache.
"You don't like the old push broom?" said Wash, stroking said facial decoration.
"It's horrible! If you get rid of it, I'll—I'll go on a date with you!" Zoë was desperate.
Wash said nothing, only left the room.
The next day, Zoë walked into the kitchen to see Wash sitting eating his breakfast while Kaylee and Mal stood in the other doorway, staring at him with identical "what the ruttin' hell!" looks on their faces.
Zoë walked around in front of Wash and saw that he was clean-shaven and eating his breakfast, unconcerned with his audience as he toyed with one of his plastic dinosaurs.
"Wash?" Zoë sat down across from him. He looked up and grinned at her.
"So, how 'bout tomorrow?" he asked.
"Tomorrow?" Zoë felt so much relief at his new, better appearance that she had forgotten all about their deal.
"Our date! I'll meet you in the cargo bay around, say, six?" Zoë nodded dumbly and left the table, walking past Mal and Kaylee.
"So, Zoë," called Mal after her, "I willin' to bet you figured out what bothered you about him."
"Yes, sir," Zoë replied.
