(Edited by author)

Wash set the last chair back into place at the galley table and looked around carefully for anything left out of place. He had washed off the mud, changed into a clean jumpsuit, and then fixed, as best he could, the console. Unfortunately, he had blown a couple ‘a fuses when he’d rearranged the wiring. He’d been in too much of a hurry.

He ran a hand thoughtfully through his strawberry blonde hair, redirecting the spiky disarray somewhat, and thinking about what needed done next. He climbed the steps out of the galley, headed toward the bridge, and had no more then stepped into the corridor when two strong feminine hands seized the front of his flight suit, and he found himself pressed against the wall and held there firmly by Zoë. Her hair was loose; the dark curls a riot about her beautiful face. At first he thought she was angry, but as she looked at him for that breadth of a moment, he saw her dark eyes were hungry and smoldering. His own eyes grew wide for a moment in complete surprise and then he felt her full lips pressed against his, and for a split second he was sure he must’ve died in the crash after all. Good God, her lips were lush, and soft, and tasted better then anything his lips had touched to date.

Zoë felt his surprise, the tension filling his body as she descended upon him. His arms were splayed out from his sides, and his hands were pressed against the cool metal of the bulkhead. She smiled against his mouth then pulled his lower lip between hers, tasting him, coaxing him further, as she decided she liked the flavor of him. Then, with a soft moan of relent, Wash was responding, his arms wound around her pulling her even closer, one hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her back fiercely. Zoë moaned low in her throat as his mouth worked over hers. She in turn devoured him with urgent demand, parting her lips, wanting to taste more of him, and his tongue dipped into the warm recess of her mouth, tangling with hers. His lips were strong and warm, they took as well as they gave and he didn’t recoil under the demands of her mouth. He took what she gave and gave back with equal fervor, and Zoë reveled in it.

They warred together for long moments, giving and taking with building passion. Zoë was surprised by the surge of desire that rolled trough her, heating her blood, craving more. She had hoped this was some kind of fluke, this lust that had been building ever so slowly over the months. She had hoped that it could be chalked up to the simple fact that he was an unknown quantity, but the more she tasted of him the more she wanted. She pressed into him further, as his hands smoothed down her back coming to rest on the curve of her hips, his fingers squeezing her there gently. She could feel his hardness pressed into the hollow of her hip, feel his need and desire in the passionate way he kissed her, but she knew he was still holding back. She pulled herself from him slowly, looking for a moment into his stunned expression; his eyes a lazuli lake of astonishment, confusion and need.

Wash felt the loss of her as a deep physical pain. Damn, he knew this was too good to be true! He had tried not to go too far, not to take more then she was willing to give, afraid to break whatever spell had been cast to make her want to kiss him in the first place. Now he was heaving for breath as he watched her leave, leaning against the wall for support as he ached for her to come back.

She walked away slowly, the swing of her hips the sweet temptation it always was, except maybe more so now, since he’d held them in his hands and would never forget the heat of her, or the sweetness of her taste, so rich and exotic. She reached the opening to her bunk and pushed it in, her boot resting on the first rung of the ladder down. She turned, looking over her shoulder at him, her large dark eyes shrouded in dark lashes, her full lips even fuller, swollen from his kisses, turned up in one corner.

“Are you planning on joining me, sailor, or was it your plan to stand there holding up the bulkhead for the rest of the day?”

It took a moment for his overloaded senses to fully comprehend what she’d said. Then his eyes opened even wider. She smiled and disappeared down the hatch.

~ It was many long moments later that Zoe pulled him to her as they fell back against her bunk. She didn't understand why she did it, why she held on to him so tightly, but she knew she wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

As his breathing returned to normal, Wash lifted his head and kissed her indulgently. Soft and achingly slow.

“I’m not squashing you am I?” he asked and she shook her head, seeing her hand come to rest on his cheek without realizing she’d sent it there. He leaned in and kissed her again. His slender lips were firm and strong, yet the kiss was excruciatingly gentle, as if he was memorizing the feel of her lips, the taste of them. When he pulled away, he looked into her eyes, and opened his mouth to speak. “Zoë, I…”

“Zoë, Wash!” came Mal’s tinny sounding voice through the ship’s intercom, cutting off Wash’s words. “Get down here and help us load this pile of fei wu onto the ship.”

Zoë jumped and Wash grimaced. He looked down at her hand as she gently pushed at his shoulder, and reluctantly rolled away from her. She climbed quickly from the bed and started reaching for her clothes.

“Zoë,” he started and she turned to him as she yanked her trousers up over her hips, the openness that was there a moment ago gone now. He just looked at her, her gorgeous face framed in sweat dampened curls, her cheeks still flushed with exertion and the pleasure he knew he’d given her. He shook his head and turned away, swinging his legs off the side of her bed and standing, searching her floor for his clothing.