As always everything belongs to Joss. All of these are written in chronological order, but can be read as stand alones (only vague references to other installments). Ratings are shiny, comments are shinier!

Intro 1 –

He never told her and now he regretted it. Only because the similarities were so pronounced, so obvious. He had hinted to her that she was catlike, but never came out saying that it was a lioness that most often came to mind. It was because he had never seen a lioness except in books and the occasional film in GenEd. It was enough for him to see it in her though – she was a lioness: sleek, feline, graceful, dangerous – such an adept hunter that the prey rarely even saw her coming. But when they did it was loud, powerful and overwhelming. He couldn’t tell her now and it’d be a long time before he would be able to. Besides, when they can talk again… really talk there might be other, more important things to be said. So for now he watched her stalk the shadows, hold quiet to the corners and walls. Both of them unseen by virtually everyone, seeing virtually everything.

~~ Intro 2 –

It was better this way, truly it was. She was always up before everyone else, but stayed out of sight. Couldn’t take the looks on their face. They meant well of course, but well intended pity was still pity and it rankled her. If her lack of presence meant that they didn’t have to face everything head on, then it was the least she could do. And it meant that she didn’t have to face everything either. Let them deal with the Alliance hun dans, let them deal with the memory of Miranda, let them deal with Serenity and the physical wounds. It would be more than enough to distract them from Wash an’ Book being gone. For Zoe, none of that could distract her mind from circling the same thought over and over and over: “He’s gone. He’s really gone.”

Having sat through an hour of the medical attention given her by the Alliance she left. Doctors and nurses all tried to argue, convince her to stay. One steely look from her and they took a step back, frowns of disapproval on their face. One of the nurses looked pityingly at her, as though she could sense a lone piercing scream inside Zoe’s mind that didn’t seem to end. She left and found herself with nowhere to go. Her wandering feet took her to Serenity. So while others healed in the MedCen and in the comfort of each others presence, she went to free her husband. She’d seen plenty of dead bodies and so it wasn’t the state of death that shook her. She just couldn’t reconcile how the body still pinned to the seat could be the body that she knew so intimately, had loved her so thoroughly. Taking the time to gently cut through the wooden shaft, she slowly freed his body. Once he was free she found herself suddenly manic. No sleep: not until he was clean, not until he was ready. She picked up the broken glass shards off the floor and fetched a sheet they once slept under. Laying it out she moved his body from the seat to the floor. She wiped the blood from his face and arms with the reverence and sorrow reserved only for the dead. She looked down on his face and kissed his lips one last time. Wrapping his body in the sheet, she took a last lingering look at his face, then pulled the sheet across it.

She slept in odd places these days. Couldn’t sleep in their bed… her bed. Not yet. Some days she would fall asleep in the damnest places at the damnest times. Once, the first day the sun rose on this changed ‘verse, she fell asleep on a side of a hill. She crawled up there, not bothering to watch her feet as they sent pebbles skittering to the bottom. Lying on the incline she felt the hot winds push against her and tried to imagine it was him touching her (he was). She imagined the filtered light coming from the sky was his intention to be there with her (he was). Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and she imagined his gentle lips kissing them away (he tried). Next thing she knew it was night with the sky flickering above her. Couldn’t remember what she dreamt of, but it left her feeling less alone, as though maybe he’d been with her the whole time (he did and he always will be). The feeling slipped away and she felt cold again… but the impression never really left her.

Then she realized that the crew, her friends were slowly being released from the MedCen. As each one left the MedCen they seemed dazed, as if the light were too bright, objects too solid. Kaylee worried her at first. Girl wandered all over the damn place, stumbling through the field that was quickly being littered with Alliance shuttles, walking into dry gorges, crossing fields of rocks and dust. It was like her mind wasn’t her own. She acted so much like River that from a distance her behavior made Zoe second guess her eyes. Then, as she watched as lil Kaylee wail into a big son of a bitch, Zoe hitched forward half running – half stumbling down the hill she sat on. Never thought Kaylee would go and bite off something that big to chew on. Reaching the foot of the hill she stopped, watching the scene unfold. Happy that Kaylee got her opportunity to vent, Zoe was bitter that no opportunity would make her loss easier to bear.

By chance she witnessed River walk sure footed into the Alliance field, picking her path carefully. Walking to a specific shuttle she exited shortly, carrying something small. When Zoe saw the same man that Kaylee had beat up at the door of the shuttle her eyes narrowed. Deciding that maybe the crew needed someone to watch over them, she realized that she was the only one who could do that in these circumstances.

She knew about Inara’s spot, her habit of walking there to watch the sunset. But when she saw that wang ba dan approach Inara she had her weapon out, ready to put a bullet in him. Seeing the two talk, she drew closer, keeping to the growing shadows. She caught only the end of the conversation, and not all of it clearly. But she heard enough to know that things weren’t at their end. She despaired momentarily when she realized that maybe there was no end… not until it was The End.

It was curious the way Jayne and River began disappearing into the shuttle everyday. Knowing that the people tend to crave sex when made sensitive to their own mortality, she assumed they were simply fulfilling that physical need. She didn’t approve of it and wasn’t keen on what would happen when Simon or the Captain found out, so she kept clear. She was suspicious though when they were in there for hours at a time. Even with their stamina, she knew that if those two were sexin’ that much, they’d be walking a bit funnier than they were.

She knew about Jayne’s spot overlooking the Alliance field and his habit of monitoring their movements. She admired it, irritated that it didn’t occur to her. She heard the gunfire when Jayne did, though from a bit higher up. Following his path with her eyes she inhaled sharply when she saw the same scene he did. She didn’t recognize her low throated growl when she recognized the Reaver. Didn’t realize her weapon was out, ready to kill both the Reaver and the Operative. She knew Jayne could fight, but her suspicions about Jayne and River grew when she saw him take down the Reaver. He was a brawler, fighting for the fun of it. What she saw him do wasn’t a brawl, it was almost… art. It stopped her from shooting and started her wheels to turn. As Jayne left the scene, left the Operative in his wake she found herself another quiet spot and began to think on things.

She was concerned for Simon… it seemed a pattern was in place, although who was creating the pattern was beyond her. But it made sense that the Operative would be seeking one or both of ‘em out. And Simon, while he wasn’t weak in spirit or in smarts, was still healing. His gait was slow and she could see he moved stiffly. Instead of watching the crew, she started watching the Operative. Watching him for three hours crouch in the shade from the summer sun, she wondered what he was up to. She saw Simon walk slowly to the MedCen and she heard the whole conversation. Smiling grimly when Simon told him to fuck off, her features were marred when he asked Simon about the Pax. She knew about barbs… hadn’t the foggiest notion why he’d be going on about them. Watching the Operative leave, she stayed long enough to make sure that Simon headed in the opposite direction. Giving him time to move out of ear shot she walked forward, her gun resting comfortably on her hip.

~~ The Scene

The Operative was lost in his thoughts, his confrontation with Dr. Tam not going exactly the way he wanted. He met his objective though and so he was reviewing the event if only to learn how to improve. He was, however, no so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t neglect the fact that the woman who had been watching him all day was now following him. Turning slowly he greeted her, palms open to show he held no weapon.

“I imagine that your crew, if they were aware, would be touched by your protectiveness.”

“Not so much. Little surprised Jayne didn’t kill you when he got the chance, but he’d be more than irritated if he found out I killed you ‘stead of him.” Pausing for a moment she continued. “Course, that’s why I’m not gonna tell him. No point in poking a bear with a stick.”

“Well, since you are going to kill me, I suppose then that I should share one thing with you.”

“Ain’t interested in confessions. They tend to bore me.” She pulled her gun out.

“I have no intention of confessing anything. Confessions are empty acts and I have tried, very hard, to ensure that nothing I do is empty.”

Cocking her gun she said, “Like I said: not interested in confessions. What I am interested in is what you are planning.”

“What I am planning has nothing to do with you, your crew, Serenity or anyone else in this ‘verse. What I am planning is irrelevant. What others are planning, what they are doing, what they are still capable of… that something entirely different.”

“Keep talking.”

He sighed, collecting his thoughts. “Do I tell you that they can still get to River? That she’s been imbedded with numerous triggers? Do I tell you that the Pax is not gone from the Alliances arsenal, despite its… failure? Tell me, what do you want me to talk about?”

“I want you to tell me what you gave Inara, what you gave Simon and what River took from you.”

Disappointment was clear on his face. “You want to know about paltry things, when there is much more going on with the Parliament?”

“I couldn’t give a good gorram about the Parliament or the Alliance.” Raising her gun and leveling it at his face she continued, “I do give a gorram about those people. And I want to know what you gave them.”

He nodded. “Ms. Serra received a holo which would aide Captain Reynolds in locating me… should the need arise. Of course, since I’m about to die, I suppose that was a wasted effort. Dr. Tam just received a data stick containing all the information about G23 Paxalon Hydrochlorate I could record. And River took something that belongs to her. I suggest you ask her about it as it is none of my business." Pausing for a moment he continued, "At the risk of this conversation ending prematurely, I should add that if you believe in the sanctity of the body in death, you might allow me to say one additional thing concerning your late husband.”

Zoe took four menacing steps forward leaving only a few feet of space between them. She kept her gun trained on his head, he kept his hands relaxed at his sides.

“Placing a body under Protocol 3 isolates a person or a cadaver for research. The research revolves on the affects of the Pax. Miranda was off limits as it was inaccessible. But those who were exposed, or died at the hands who were exposed are placed under Protocol 3 for the furthering of the Alliances understanding of the drug. Everything else I know is speculation on my part, but I do know that when they realize that your husband died at the hands of the Reavers, they will be interested in… acquiring his body.”

For a moment, the briefest of moments, a gritty rage cracked Zoe’s usually stoic expression. Not even reaching back for momentum she slammed the butt of her weapon into his head. Looking down on his unconscious body her skin literally itched in its desire to fill it with lead. She shook with the struggle between doing just that and sparing his life. She couldn’t reconcile killing a man who just gave her information that would protect her Wash, but that wasn’t always a strong enough deterrent. The muzzle of the gun still trained on his head she felt her finger tighten on the trigger.

And then a warm breeze came. It blew strands of hair away from her face, cooling her skin as sweat evaporated. She would never tell anyone, and looking back she wouldn’t know if it was just her imagination playing tricks on her… but she felt, briefly, the sensation of lips ghosting her forehead with an intangible kiss. Her throat constricted and she closed her eyes, trying to savor the sensation. Opening her eyes she ran back towards Serenity.

~~ Conclusion

The Reavers took his life and there was no way she was going to allow the Alliance to take his body. As she entered Serenity she ran to the mule, pulling out a collapsible shovel. She sprinted up the steps to the shuttle she had put Wash’s body in. Keying in the code that unlocked the doors, she sat quickly at the controls. She had already inspected the shuttle, making the minor repairs that would make it flight worthy. Detaching from Serenity, she maneuvered her way out of the mouth of the hanger. She flew low to the ground, squeezing the shuttle through narrow valleys until she was far from the Alliance field and their prying eyes. Finding the perfect spot, at the top of a plateau facing the horizon of the setting sun, she got to work.

It took her the remainder of the day and a few hours into the night before she was satisfied with the depth and size of the hole. Maneuvering the body into the plot was difficult, but when he was finally laid out in his final resting place, she knelt at the side. The night was her last night with him alone and in the flesh. She held a vigil in the darkness, speaking the words that no one else would hear (he heard) and crying the tears that no one else would see (he saw). Once the sun had risen completely above the horizon she dried her face and finished burying her husband.

~~ wang ba dan – son of a bitch