there are quite a few hearts... - Fic: 'Like Breathing'; Zoe/Wash; Firefly

Title: Like Breathing
Author: velvetandlace
Warnings: - (low rating)
Pairing: Zoe/Wash.
Feedback: I adore it!
Timeline/Spoilers: Pre-series. Post-war.
Summary: "Zoe couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when Wash stopped being irritating and became endearing. It was just natural. World is what it is, and Zoe found herself in love with Wash."
A/N: Fairly lengthy for me with a word count coming in over 1100 words. First time writing Zoe, Wash, and Zoe/Wash. Fairly 'shippy, I'm afraid, but something that's been in my head for awhile now.



Zoe couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when Wash stopped being irritating and became endearing. It was just natural. World is what it is, and Zoe found herself in love with Wash.

Could be to do with his patience, his determination. He never pushed, never forced his obvious emotion onto her. Just made himself a constant presence; jokes and clever quips. And the quiet glances, all concerned-like, that Mal and the others never really noticed. As Zoe grew accustomed to him, she found all the quirks...Welcoming.

Wash knew she was strong (wasn't a person on the ship that didn't know that right from steppin' on it), and he was happy to let her be commanding and realistic and terse. But when the door closed in their quarters, he let her gently shed the reservation and really feel. She was never going to stop being surprised about how gentle he was with her. No one was ever gentle with her - they all figured she didn't need it.

Sometimes she needed it more than anything else in the 'verse.

He made her laugh so hard her whole face hurt, and that had been a damn sight unrecognisable at first. Zoe hadn't even remembered what it felt like in a long time, never really thought she'd get the chance to feel it again. 'Till she met Wash, that is, and everything changed after that.

She's more open now, more trusting; the compliance comes easily, willingly when he places his hands on hers, so attentive that it's like there's nothing else in the 'verse but her, like she's something valuable, someone to be counted.

No one ever really counted her before. Sure, Mal - they'd kept each other alive in that war, learned a kind of trust Zoe figured ain't ever going to break. But he didn't treasure her (Zoe thought she'd hit him if he did), didn't want to keep her safe, away from everything that might just break her. Wash treated her like she was holy, Wash buried his easy nature in worry for her. Fact of it was, Wash just loved her, and that was a rare thing.

It got easier to take, got easier to smile at him when he kept a running line of jokes from that pilot's chair to ease the strain of the second week with a complete lack of a job. Mal still waved him off, most days, but Zoe would shoot him smiles - terse and controlled, but smiles nonetheless.

His grin was mighty infectious.

The young mechanic, Kaylee, would grin at them whenever she caught Zoe's returning smile, and she'd busy herself with tins of paint in the kitchen, painting flowers or some kind of sentimental nonsense on the walls. No one could look at Kaylee and not smile, and it wasn't surprising that Kaylee and Wash got along. They sat up at the other end of the kitchen table while Zoe and Mal took the other, whispering - loudly - to each other and giggling at Mal's stony glare 'till it finally faded and Zoe responded to one of Wash's inane questions. Wash liked asking questions, loved to talk. But never asked her to really talk, in the confidential open sense, which Zoe was pleased about. She wasn't that person, and she was a mite surprised that Wash respected that.

But she was slowly seeing more of him than she first understood.

Wash loved the stars. Time was Zoe'd glance at him and think the man didn't have a deep and serious bone in his body. Sure, he was a damn good pilot, but he'd always seemed a mite ridiculous 'till that night Zoe saw him staring out at the black, something close to peace on his face. She'd come out on the bridge - more noisome than usual; she didn't want to catch him off guard, and he'd not even turned around as he spoke.

Really spoke, all serious. He told her more than she'd ever expected. About how he felt when he flew, about why he kept away from war-talk, why he wasn't a soldier, where he'd been in the war. What his family was like, why he became a pilot.

How he saw her face in all the stars.

Zoe'd thought she'd been ready to talk, then, in all the ways he seemed to think mattered, to make that exception for him. Tell him about herself, why she...But it was all written in her face, Wash had said, and when he reached for her hand she'd let him take it, and she'd shivered with the warmth and the naturalness of it all. Never thought Wash'd feel like that; skin on skin and something right.

Still wasn't sure why Wash'd ever even noticed her long enough to love her, but she wasn't one much for second-guessing and exploration. Wash said he loved her, she'd believe it.

Wasn't long after that 'till he kissed her, and Zoe felt something open, break, and something fell into place right along with it. She didn't have the words for it - she didn't care much for words and she didn't think there were words for it, but she'd figured out right fast it was something she'd fight the entire 'verse to keep.

The 'verse and Mal.

Reflecting, raging with Mal felt like fighting the 'verse anyway, or at least their part of it, and that was the only part that mattered. She thought wryly that it was a damn good thing Mal knew just how strong she was. He knew that one word that wasn't positively shiny to Wash about her would see him rightly black and blue in embarrassing places. Good thing Mal trusted her right enough. Didn't trust Wash, but that wasn't a surprise - Mal wasn't quick to trust and hadn't been for a long time.

Zoe didn't blame him.

She didn't trust all that easy, either. Wash just seemed some sort of an exception. Again it wasn't something Zoe was looking to question - she wasn't fool enough for that. Something - someone - like that didn't come along all that often out here.

After the shock and into the acceptance, she'd just learned to be gladsome. Thankful. Wasn't long before she got it, this whole notion of love, and it was easier than shootin' a can point-blank.

She started to be pretty sure this thing with Wash wasn't going away. Wash said so, and she'd gotten to know that he's usually right about this kind of thing; his wisdom strung between jokes and hand-made shadow puppets. Seemed like she and Wash could be in it for life.

Especially now he'd gotten rid of that ridiculous moustache.