“I tell ya, Zoe,” Mal said to his feet one afternoon as they pushed crates across the cargo hold. “I wouldn’t have laid a bet on you and Wash.”

She didn’t look up.

“Just happened,” she said quickly between shoves at the heavy container they were moving. They moved to opposite sides of a taller one, spoke around its comforting distance as they heaved at it together.

“He seems a good man.”

“He is.” Her tone brooked no opposition.

“Mighty fond of you too.”

Zoe didn’t answer. Mal continued.

“Are you gonna tell me you’re gettin’ fond as well, or is it just--”

“It started as being for that, yes.” She slid the container into its final place and leaned her back against it, a momentary respite. “Now...I don’t know. Don’t think either of us do.”

“Just be careful, ‘s all.”

They both headed to the railed stairway, took the stairs side by side.

*****

It seemed that they only really talked to each other in bed, in those stolen moments between work and sleep. When Wash was piloting, he was piloting. And Zoe found it hard to let down her guard during days on Serenity anyhow. But when they lay naked, side by side in a narrow bunk...

“I love you, Zoe.”

His voice pulled her back from half-sleep. She blinked her eyes, turned into his waiting arms. He held her tightly, his eyes searching hers, one thumb repeating a tiny sweep across her back as he waited, still and anxious.

She brought one had to his face, caressed the line of his jaw. Without breaking his gaze she said with absolute certainty, “I know.”

And he didn’t look disappointed. He’d known she wasn’t there yet, knew she knew it too. But he’d had to tell her anyhow. The sensation of burying his nose in the nape of her neck as they fell asleep together had drawn it out of him, had brought the words bursting to the surface.

“Tell me something, Bao bei,” he asked, then.

“Mmm hmm.”

“What brought you to me, that night?”

Zoe sighed and turned onto her back, stared at the ceiling.

“Honestly...?” she asked.

“One would hope.”

“Nightmares.”

Wash reached one hand up to her shoulder, stroked the bare skin softly. “But you don’t--”

“Exactly. Not here. Not anymore.”

Wash let out a breath slowly, almost appreciatively, as a responsibility suddenly fell upon him.

“Does it work that way, for you and Mal?”

“What?” she asked, suddenly suspicious. “Ruttin’, to forget the war?”

“Er...”

“Eh.” She relaxed. “Sometimes. Hadn’t really tried it more’n once or twice before.”

Wash raised his own eyes to the ceiling, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“So did you and Mal ever---”

She cut him off short. “Mighty soon to be getting so personal, ain’t it?”

“Oh, make no mistake, Miss Zoe,” Wash grinned. “I’m serious about you.”

She wriggled gently into his arms again, settled into their sleeping embrace. Moments later he spoke once more.

“I’ll take that as a no about you and Mal, by the way.”

Zoe giggled and swatted his rear. The man did make her laugh.

*****

It was another month before even Zoe could feel the swell in her belly. When she did it seemed almost foreign, like it was trying to break free of her. It was changing the body she knew so well, kept so tight. But, she remembered, it was Wash that was doing this changing.

And so she talked to it from the first moment she felt the little bump. Spoke in gentle tones when she was all alone. Never said a word to the crew, though she could see them eyeing her stomach whenever she wore anything tight. Kaylee was always bringing her the foods she thought she might like best, and swearing to high heaven that Simon had personally prescribed each one.

But Zoe was quiet, found herself in her own thoughts more often than not. As the months passed she grew complacent, found herself growing motherly despite herself. Found a love she had never known she could feel. Remembered the touch of Wash’s lips on her belly and imagined his kiss to her there. But he was gone, she would remind herself. And this baby will never know him.

And then a flutter, the tiniest thing, as she bent to pick up a fallen hand towel in her bunk. She almost thought she had imagined it.

Her hands she brought to her stomach, felt the heaviness within. Protected herself where it counted most. And she whispered ever so softly, seemingly only to the air: “I love you, too.”