Title: Faking It
Author: babies stole my dingo (agilebrit)
Rating: PG-13 for non-explicit sexual situations and mentions of orgasms (default)
Length: Flashfic (under 500 words)
Disclaimer: Joss is the genius behind these characters; I am but a lowly follower. I make no money from any of this, so please don't sue me.
Feedback: Concrit adored! If you see something that can be improved upon, please let me know, even if it's only a typo.
Written for: More "inspired by" ana_grrl's "Back to Firefly" prompt-fest. This one doesn't make word count for that particular thing, but I couldn't resist the prompt, so here it is. leeshajoy wanted a fic based around a scene in the "Trash" shooting script that never made it to the screen. Apologies if I've stepped on any toes.
Notes: Yeah, I needed to write fluff after that last thing. This was fun.
Zoe weren't one for fakin' it.
Not under most circumstances, anyhow. This last job had got a little more hairy than usual, and Wash had been up at all hours steering them around Alliance cruisers and disgruntled customers. After finally getting the ship clear, he stumbled down to their bunk, shucked off his clothes, and fell into bed, exhausted. Zoe wrapped around him, stroking his back.
They hadn't been married for too awful long, and one thing led to another, even as tired as both of them were. Her new husband was a skilled and considerate lover, but tonight...well, he was plumb wore out from piloting them out of trouble. She decided to make it easy on him and let him think she was satisfied, although he hadn't quite finished the job.
The position they'd used made a cuddle afterwards easy to fall into. She spooned into him, and he buried his nose in her hair. "Lambie-toes?" He came up with the most outrageous nicknames...
She was just about ready to drift off. "Yeah, baby?"
"I'd really rather you didn't fake your orgasms."
Her eyes snapped open. "What?"
"We're both beat. It happens." He squeezed her. "Sorry I couldn't get you there. I'll do better next time."
She rolled over to face him. "You've spent the last forty-eight hours getting us out of one scrape after another without a lick of sleep. There's nothing to apologize for." She paused for a second. "How'd you know?"
He kissed her nose. "Ah-ah-ah. That would be telling."
"Hun dan," she said, laughing affectionately and snuggling into his chest.
Her man was funny, sweet, and an inhumanly skilled pilot. He was also as perceptive as anyone she'd ever met. More so. She didn't bullshit much, but it was nice, in a way, to know that she couldn't bullshit him--and that he would call her on it if she did. As she fell asleep against his chest, she thought to herself that she now had one more reason to thank a God she was beginning to believe in again that she'd found him.