[Saturday Night]

[flybywash]

It's late. Nearly everyone on the ship's asleep -- or trying to sleep, or pretending to sleep.

Wash isn't.

He's leaning against Serenity's windscreen, hands shoved deep in his pockets, silently watching the stars.

Comments

[flybywash]

Tension threading through his voice now, too: "That's not -- "

But with a visible effort, he cuts himself off before he can go any further. This, of all nights, is not the night for it.

Doesn't mean it takes any less time for the lines of his shoulders to ease, nor for him to nod, however reluctantly, as his gaze drifts to the floor.

[righthandwoman.livejournal.com]

Zoe moves closer again, and hugs him tightly.

Just because she doesn't agree doesn't mean she doesn't understand.

"I'll be fine."

[flybywash]

He breathes deep, and rests his chin on her shoulder.

"Good," he mumbles. "'Cause, you for the mustache's great and glorious return...kind of not the best trade."

More silence. Beneath their feet, Serenity hums softly; outside, the stars glitter.

"Got any plans to sleep tonight?"

[righthandwoman.livejournal.com]

Zoe turns her head, her mouth brushing against his ear for a moment before answering.

"Probably not. Might have to find some other way to occupy myself."

[flybywash]

"Mmm."

The smile's a bit slow to form, but it's genuine, and much bigger than before. Affecting nonchalance, "Well, you know, if you need any help..."

[righthandwoman.livejournal.com]

"Well, I wouldn't want to be any inconvenience..."

At some point, Zoe's fingers have started trailing up and down his back.

"I mean, I'm sure there's all manner of important piloty things I shouldn't be distractin' you from..."

[flybywash]

An exaggerated, long-suffering sigh. It turns into a groan midway through.

"You're right. Never know when that proximity alert's gonna go off. Best if I just stay up here the whole night."

Wash leans to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"....Wouldn't mind company, though," he suggests, as if it's just occuring to him.

[righthandwoman.livejournal.com]

Zoe kisses him back, then smiles teasingly. "Oh, I think maybe that could be arranged."

[flybywash]

Wash grins outright. In the expression, he looks more like himself than he has in days. "Shiny."

Hands cradling her face again, he pulls her into another slow, thorough kiss; and in it, there are no constellations, no engine, and no skyplexes waiting for them immeasurable miles ahead. It's just them. Husband and wife.

'Til death do we part.

Five minutes later, the bridge door is locked and shut tight. For good or ill, this will all be over in twenty-four hours, and there are better ways to spend it than in solitude.