Wash flicked the switch for the autopilot, stood up and stretched. It had been a long day, and he was ready for his bed. Taking one last look at Serenity’s dials and screens, making sure there was nothing needing his urgent attention, he turned and headed towards the galley. Just one more cup of coffee, he promised as he passed the entrance to his bunk, knowing Zoe was already in bed.

The pot was still warm, at least enough for him, and he poured himself a mug, savouring the aroma before taking a mouthful. Funny how it always smelled better than it tasted, he considered, at least when it was this fake coffee stuff. Now, the real thing, that was liquid gold on the tongue as well as in the nose. He grinned. Not that he liked his coffee up his nose. Seemed such a waste. Course, there was that time on Beylix …

He ambled back along the corridor, carrying the cup, glancing at the different doors as he went along. They were a good crew, from little Kaylee to the doc, from his crazy sister to … well, even Jayne. Good people.

At the hatch to his bunk he paused a moment, taking a deep breath, smelling the aroma of the Firefly. No other ship had quite the same fragrance, something uniquely hers. Old metal, hot engine, a touch of Jasmine probably wafting from Inara’s shuttle, the scent of gun oil coming up from Jayne’s room … it all blended into a perfume he’d recognise anywhere. He grinned. Always did love that smell.

Pushing the hatch open he climbed down the ladder. “Honey, I’m home,” he called. He stepped further inside the room. “Dung ee miao.”

Zoe wasn’t alone. Another man lay under the covers next to her, on his side, his arm laid casually over her, his brown hair mussed and sticking every which way.

“Oh yeah,” Wash said quietly. “That’s right. I’m dead.”

He looked down to his chest and picked a sliver of wood off the front of his flightsuit.

“Funny how you forget sometimes,” he added, sniffing deeply of the cup of coffee in his hand before throwing the contents down his throat. “Ah, better,” he said, putting the mug on the table and watching it disappear.

He turned back to the couple in the bed.

“So, how’s things going?” he asked, sitting down on the end. “Mal didn’t really get a chance to tell me. Read any good books lately? Seen any good vids? How about killed anyone interesting?”

He waited for an answer, but no-one seemed inclined to speak.

Hank rolled onto his back, and Wash peered at the deep scratches decorating his chest.

“Oh, that looks painful,” he said. “She do that?”

Hank murmured something in his sleep, sounded like raise you four, but could have been instructions to praise the poor for all he was mumbling.

“You couldn’t find someone who could talk properly?” Wash asked, looking across at his wife. “Although maybe it’s not his sparkling wit you want him for. And it surely ain’t his good looks.” He looked at the man lying next to Zoe. “I seriously thought you had better taste than this, pumpkin.” He sighed. “Still, I guess out here you haven’t exactly got that much of a choice. At least it ain’t Jayne.”

“Kill the drag’n,” Hank muttered.

Wash nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! And I guess it all worked out. Mal fighting the dragon. Still think it would have been better if it had been a T Rex, but it wasn’t my nightmare. I already kinda had my nightmare. Pretty much came true, too. Something I was afraid of for a long time.“

He pushed a hand through his blond hair before looking back at Zoe, an odd, wistful look on his face.

“Losing you.”

He went to touch her, but pulled back at the last moment. “Never thought it would be me, though. Always figured it’d be Mal coming back from a job one day and telling me you didn’t make it. Never realised it could be me that didn’t.”

All the old daydreams surfaced for a moment, and he shivered before pushing them back down.

“So, did he tell you I helped him?” he asked, trying for a touch of levity. “Gave him the benefit of my worldly experience, and a big stick to poke the dragon with.” He laughed. “He wouldn’t have made it if I hadn’t. Watching him head off on that horse, going to save the fair lady …” He grinned. “I’d’a done that, honey bun, if you’d ever needed it. Like you came to get me that day outta Niska’s skyplex. Hell, I’d’a died for you. Guess in a way I did. For all of you.”

Zoe turned her head, her hair spread out on the pillow, a sea of black waves.

“I told him to give you my love. Mal, I mean. ‘Cause there he was, standing there, bold as brass and twice as pretty, and there’s me, telling him to give you my love.”

She licked her lips, her tongue darting out to rake across her skin.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” Wash said, shaking his head. “That I’d been his squire. Nope, figured as much.” He sighed. “Maybe he thought it would upset you. Knowing your husband had sent his love. Especially since you appear to be shacked up with another man.”

“Zo,” Hank muttered.

“You know I heard about him? Yeah. It’s a small ‘verse, all us flyboys together. Heard he was okay as a pilot. Not as good as me, but … well, that’d be hard, wouldn’t it? But he’s okay.”

Hank mumbled again. “… get some real manoeuvrability out of this boat …”

“He always this talkative in bed?“ Wash smiled. “Still, I seem to recall you not exactly being the quiet type. Remember when Mal made us change rooms with him ‘cause Kaylee was complaining too much? Reckon now we’d be complaining about her and the doc. And little Bethany. Not complaining about her, a’course. Just that I still can’t get my head around the fact that they’ve got kids at all. And she is so cute, such a gorgeous little dumpling.”

“… get them back out …”

“And Mal with a kid. A son at that. A changed man …” Wash shook his head, watching Hank as he rubbed his nose with his hand then threw it above him.

“I guess he’s not so bad, sweet cheeks. He loves you, and that’s not nothing. But you’ve sorta hurried into this, haven’t you? I mean, there’s me dead for less than a decade and you’re … you’re …”

Realisation dawned. “Oh.”

He sat back, somewhat shell-shocked. “Well, that kinda … just don’t call him Hoban, whatever you do.” Shaking his head he felt a smile begin. “My own fault. Shoulda done something about that years ago. Sorry, Zo. And congratulations.”

He leaned over and put a kiss on her forehead. She wrinkled her nose and shifted slightly in bed. Hank put his arm back across her in response.

“Well, that sorta changes things, cupcake. Means I won’t be coming back no more. You don’t need me to.” Wash smiled sadly. “You’ve moved on. And that’s good,” he added quickly. “My lambie-toes is a big girl now.”

He looked at Hank. “But what I said to the Cap still goes. You don’t treat her right, and I’ll come back and haunt you. And it’ll be a lot worse than sheets with holes and rattling chains. A whole lot worse - I picked up some ideas on the other side, you know. It‘ll be gruesome.” He paused. “Not quite sure how, yet, but just give me time.”

He stood up, taking a last long look around the bunk. “Good thing you didn’t get rid of my dinosaurs, though,” he said, grinning at last. “Kids love to play with things like that.”

He glanced at the Hawaiian shirt he now wore over his suit. “Hey, my favourite,” he said, patting his chest happily. “Maybe I’ll grow the moustache back, too.” The grin dimmed a little. “Maybe not. But you know, if anyone needs me, all they have to do is whistle. You know how to do that, don’t you?” He laughed. “Think I’ve been watching too many old movies.”

He gazed down at his wife again, the sweet smile on her full lips, the swell of her breasts above the sheet.

“Bye, Zoe. I’ll always love you. And I will always, always miss you. My autumn flower. My beautiful wife, who could’ve killed me with her …” His voice faded into nothing.

“Bye, Wash,” River said quietly, sitting in her bunk, tears on her cheeks. “I’ll miss you too.”

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