Fic: Of Love and Risk 10/13
Dec. 13th, 2005 08:06 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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firefly_fanficTitle: Of Love and Risk
Author: smurf
Summary: T'weren't nothing to mention.
Rating: R (R overall)
Characters: Mal, Zoë, Wash (mention of Jayne, Kaylee, Inara)
Pairings: Zoë/Wash, Mal/Zoë (het)
Spoilers/Timeline: for BDM and "War Stories", set during the war continuation of Part 7, and set at the end of 'War Stories'.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to test drive.
Archive: Please don't
Words: 500 (Total 7,900)
Author's Note: This is now all written, will be posted as I clean and edit. There is often a method to my madness.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
Cold hands over hot flesh, little removal of clothing needed. Zoë and Serge'd vied for position, finally settling side-by-side, equal when in life they never would be. For just awhile the war and hurt and even cold evaporated in messy kisses and frosted sighs. If Zoë closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was Brien not Serge thrusting, hands firm on her hips. But now weren't the time to hide from reality. Instead, she looked Serge dead in the eyes, his blue, red rimmed from tears, dilated with need.
Afterwards they paused. Zoë felt the sweat chill on her. Neither wanted the temporary connection broken. But it were just a moment of weakness or fighting or friendship, she didn't rightly know, or care.
They pulled apart, did themselves back up in silence, her chill closed back into thick clothing. When he turned to her there were almost words on his pale lips. She shook her head, and he nodded, gave a small smile. He drifted a single finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear for Brien she didn't know had fallen.
With a shake, Serge huddled back into his coat, and Zoë did the same, shoulder against his. T'weren't nothing to say. They'd lived through closer, she reasoned if they made it out of this war alive, would have lengthened that list mitely. Brien were the love of her life, but Serge, Mal, may be the closest she'd ever been with another, enough one simple thrust weren't to matter.
#
"Zo, got a minute?" Mal asked as she passed him in the narrow corridor to the cockpit.
"Yeah." They'd only just finished the new drop for the last of the stolen medicine and given the Ambassador back her medical equipment. Zoë thought Mal's ear looked as good as new.
"What all has Wash told you... about...."
"Sir, I really don't have time right now." She had hoped the incident had solved problems, between them all. It certainly seemed to have made Wash feel more secure, knowing Zoë thought he could handle himself if need be, which in reality she always had thought.
"Might have been words, 'tween us, about me... getting my way--"
"Sleeping with me, sir?" She had figured Mal would use Wash's anger to keep the weaker man alert. In fact she'd counted on it.
"So he told you?" Mal practically blushed.
"No," Zoë said. Wash's voice could be heard from the cockpit, and she cocked her head to see if her husband was getting any of this conversation.
"Might have been playing it up a bit, that husband of yours had got some odd views."
"I'm sure you were, sir, wouldn't have expected less. As for his views." She sighed. "Hard to explain some things."
Mal nodded. "You cover me?"
"Sir?" Zoë knew what the words meant. But she had no idea what Mal was planning. He just stood looking at her. In the end, she knew she'd figure it out, and nodded her agreement.
"Good." He smiled brightly and walked on past.
Author: smurf
Summary: T'weren't nothing to mention.
Rating: R (R overall)
Characters: Mal, Zoë, Wash (mention of Jayne, Kaylee, Inara)
Pairings: Zoë/Wash, Mal/Zoë (het)
Spoilers/Timeline: for BDM and "War Stories", set during the war continuation of Part 7, and set at the end of 'War Stories'.
Disclaimer: Not mine, I just like to test drive.
Archive: Please don't
Words: 500 (Total 7,900)
Author's Note: This is now all written, will be posted as I clean and edit. There is often a method to my madness.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
Cold hands over hot flesh, little removal of clothing needed. Zoë and Serge'd vied for position, finally settling side-by-side, equal when in life they never would be. For just awhile the war and hurt and even cold evaporated in messy kisses and frosted sighs. If Zoë closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was Brien not Serge thrusting, hands firm on her hips. But now weren't the time to hide from reality. Instead, she looked Serge dead in the eyes, his blue, red rimmed from tears, dilated with need.
Afterwards they paused. Zoë felt the sweat chill on her. Neither wanted the temporary connection broken. But it were just a moment of weakness or fighting or friendship, she didn't rightly know, or care.
They pulled apart, did themselves back up in silence, her chill closed back into thick clothing. When he turned to her there were almost words on his pale lips. She shook her head, and he nodded, gave a small smile. He drifted a single finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear for Brien she didn't know had fallen.
With a shake, Serge huddled back into his coat, and Zoë did the same, shoulder against his. T'weren't nothing to say. They'd lived through closer, she reasoned if they made it out of this war alive, would have lengthened that list mitely. Brien were the love of her life, but Serge, Mal, may be the closest she'd ever been with another, enough one simple thrust weren't to matter.
#
"Zo, got a minute?" Mal asked as she passed him in the narrow corridor to the cockpit.
"Yeah." They'd only just finished the new drop for the last of the stolen medicine and given the Ambassador back her medical equipment. Zoë thought Mal's ear looked as good as new.
"What all has Wash told you... about...."
"Sir, I really don't have time right now." She had hoped the incident had solved problems, between them all. It certainly seemed to have made Wash feel more secure, knowing Zoë thought he could handle himself if need be, which in reality she always had thought.
"Might have been words, 'tween us, about me... getting my way--"
"Sleeping with me, sir?" She had figured Mal would use Wash's anger to keep the weaker man alert. In fact she'd counted on it.
"So he told you?" Mal practically blushed.
"No," Zoë said. Wash's voice could be heard from the cockpit, and she cocked her head to see if her husband was getting any of this conversation.
"Might have been playing it up a bit, that husband of yours had got some odd views."
"I'm sure you were, sir, wouldn't have expected less. As for his views." She sighed. "Hard to explain some things."
Mal nodded. "You cover me?"
"Sir?" Zoë knew what the words meant. But she had no idea what Mal was planning. He just stood looking at her. In the end, she knew she'd figure it out, and nodded her agreement.
"Good." He smiled brightly and walked on past.