Making the decision had been easy...or at least easier than implementing it.

She knew that she would just have to tell Simon that she wanted to have Wash’s child and he would do whatever it was he needed to do.

But that wasn’t really the problem.

The problem was what did she say?

To Mal?

And what would he say to her?

She hated to think that he would be mad at her, that he would disapprove of this.

She would still do it.

But the part of her that was certain that she was unlovable and unworthy insisted that this would lose her Mal’s friendship, and her home.

Most of her knew that wouldn’t happen, but she still wondered what to say to him.

And what he’d say to her.

Last night when he had held her while she cried, it was so easy to decide, she was so certain that she was right and that everything would be alright.

But now, waking in this big bed alone, eyes burning, throat sore from too much crying, she was afraid and uncertain again.

She lay there for a long time, staring at Wash’s stupid plastic dinosaurs trying to decide how to proceed from her.

Finally, frustrated with herself and how wishy-washy she was this morning she made herself stop thinking and decided to act.

She dressed quickly…mostly because she only had to put on her boots and her belt. She smiled at that. She had fallen asleep against Mal last night, it amused her that he had only taken off her gun belt and her boots before putting her to bed.

She climbed the ladder from her bunk, belt still in hand, anticipation and excitement starting to tickle her inside.

She stopped in the hall, to put on her belt…and to revel in the giddiness she felt. It wasn’t something she often felt…or allowed herself to feel when she might have. Everything seemed clearer, crisper somehow.

Shrugging, she started off down the hall; Simon should be in the infirmary about now.

Simon looked up from the inventory he was conducting when he heard the sounds of someone coming down the steps just outside the infirmary. When he saw it was Zoë, he felt his heart skip a beat, then speed up.

He and the Captain had, had a…discussion last night.

He and Kaylee had been talking, when the door to his room had been trust open with significant force. Through the suddenly open door had come what he could only take to be a raving madman, hollering “What’d you say to her!” over and over again.

The madman, who light and proximity had resolved to be Mal, grabbed him by the throat and continued to shout his question over and over again. He had tried to answer but was actually closer to blacking out than forming a coherent answer when Mal had calmed down enough to realize that Kaylee was entirely correct, it wasn’t possible for him to speak when he couldn’t breathe.

The pressure had lessened, not stopped, just loosened allowing him to draw air into his lungs and explain about the promise he had made to Wash. Mal hadn’t been pleased and had ordered him to report all further conversation to him.

She walked right into the infirmary and said “Let’s do this.”

Whatever he had been expecting….that most certainly was not it. “Excuse me, but what?”

She smiled an expression only Wash had been accustomed to seeing he was sure, and said “I want to have Wash’s baby, so what do we need to do?”