Tea for Zoe
And another found ficlet from the files. Thanks to terimaru and browncoat_2x2 for their patience. :)
“Zoe.” He crouched down next to her blanket, holding out a tin mug he had filled with tea. Or, what passed for tea. Leastways, it was hot, and would help soothe her cough some. He handed it over as she sat up, not letting go until he was sure she had a firm grip. “Mind you don’t burn yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.” He watched as she took a sip, then launched into a spasm of coughing.
Mal seized the mug, spilling the tea on himself. “What is it? You OK? Zoe?”
She was coughing in earnest now but waved him off.
“Zoe?”
The worst of the coughing had stopped and it dawned on him that she was laughing. In a crackly, wheezing sort of way.
“What?”
“Sir,” she managed as her breath returned, “that ‘tea’ is the worst toxic tap water as I’ve had the misfortune to sip at in the past five years. You scrape that off the walls of the fuel tanks?”
“Well, I know it ain’t ‘xactly Core-grade.” Mal sniffed at the offending beverage. “Was all I could get.”
“Was beginning to think it came with the boat.”
“Hey…” Mal protested, but she cut him off.
“Another thing, sir.” She’d dropped the laughter out of her voice, commanding his immediate attention. “You need to stop looking at me like I’m fixing to drop on you at every turn. I have a cough. Everyone gets ‘em. It’s uncomfortable for sleeping, but I ain’t dyin’ of consumption. At least not until I see if you can really get this hunk of fei hua off this rock.
“Again with the fei hua,” he complained, even as he winced at her hack. He couldn’t help it. A year removed from the camps but his gut still froze when he heard a cough like that. Cough back then meant death more like as not. Meant someone’s body had survived Serenity Valley but weren’t gonna walk out of internment. Just rattled and rattled til there was no air left. Then there was no noise at all.
“We’re not there, sir.” She brought him back to the present again. She did that well and he wondered again what she was doing staying with him now, now that they weren’t bound by orders. He ought to learn to stop questioning it.
“This place is almost as ugly,” she continued, looking at the grungy walls and ceiling of the kitchen where they were camped. “Almost as ugly and most like just as deadly, judging on what we seen crawling around the crew quarters. But we’re not there.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “Nobody’s dying. Least of all me.”
She started coughing again and he mutely offered the tea mug. To his surprise, she accepted.
“Cold in here don’t help,” he muttered, “both like to catch our death if I can’t get the life support functions up soon.”
“Better than sleeping outside.”
And it was. Better than sleeping where anyone or anything could get at you - wild dogs, wild Alliance patriots. Heard a story just recently where some Browncoats had been beaten to death while they slept. Mal wasn’t sure, but that could possibly have been the first positive thing he’d heard Zoe say about Serenity.
Serenity.
His ship. Dirty. Infested. Not running. Cold enough to see his breath. But his. With the doors sealed, and them kipped on the kitchen floor.
Zoe had settled back down and was trying to sleep. Mal stretched out next to her, something they’d done countless times over the past three years. A roof over their heads. A place he’d make warmer tomorrow. Then, more repairs, a pilot, jobs, freedom. Their freedom.
Mal drifted off listening to Zoe’s breathing, coughing, breathing. At some time during the night he flung his arm over her. After that, they both slept soundly.
“Zoe.” He crouched down next to her blanket, holding out a tin mug he had filled with tea. Or, what passed for tea. Leastways, it was hot, and would help soothe her cough some. He handed it over as she sat up, not letting go until he was sure she had a firm grip. “Mind you don’t burn yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.” He watched as she took a sip, then launched into a spasm of coughing.
Mal seized the mug, spilling the tea on himself. “What is it? You OK? Zoe?”
She was coughing in earnest now but waved him off.
“Zoe?”
The worst of the coughing had stopped and it dawned on him that she was laughing. In a crackly, wheezing sort of way.
“What?”
“Sir,” she managed as her breath returned, “that ‘tea’ is the worst toxic tap water as I’ve had the misfortune to sip at in the past five years. You scrape that off the walls of the fuel tanks?”
“Well, I know it ain’t ‘xactly Core-grade.” Mal sniffed at the offending beverage. “Was all I could get.”
“Was beginning to think it came with the boat.”
“Hey…” Mal protested, but she cut him off.
“Another thing, sir.” She’d dropped the laughter out of her voice, commanding his immediate attention. “You need to stop looking at me like I’m fixing to drop on you at every turn. I have a cough. Everyone gets ‘em. It’s uncomfortable for sleeping, but I ain’t dyin’ of consumption. At least not until I see if you can really get this hunk of fei hua off this rock.
“Again with the fei hua,” he complained, even as he winced at her hack. He couldn’t help it. A year removed from the camps but his gut still froze when he heard a cough like that. Cough back then meant death more like as not. Meant someone’s body had survived Serenity Valley but weren’t gonna walk out of internment. Just rattled and rattled til there was no air left. Then there was no noise at all.
“We’re not there, sir.” She brought him back to the present again. She did that well and he wondered again what she was doing staying with him now, now that they weren’t bound by orders. He ought to learn to stop questioning it.
“This place is almost as ugly,” she continued, looking at the grungy walls and ceiling of the kitchen where they were camped. “Almost as ugly and most like just as deadly, judging on what we seen crawling around the crew quarters. But we’re not there.” She placed a hand on his forearm. “Nobody’s dying. Least of all me.”
She started coughing again and he mutely offered the tea mug. To his surprise, she accepted.
“Cold in here don’t help,” he muttered, “both like to catch our death if I can’t get the life support functions up soon.”
“Better than sleeping outside.”
And it was. Better than sleeping where anyone or anything could get at you - wild dogs, wild Alliance patriots. Heard a story just recently where some Browncoats had been beaten to death while they slept. Mal wasn’t sure, but that could possibly have been the first positive thing he’d heard Zoe say about Serenity.
Serenity.
His ship. Dirty. Infested. Not running. Cold enough to see his breath. But his. With the doors sealed, and them kipped on the kitchen floor.
Zoe had settled back down and was trying to sleep. Mal stretched out next to her, something they’d done countless times over the past three years. A roof over their heads. A place he’d make warmer tomorrow. Then, more repairs, a pilot, jobs, freedom. Their freedom.
Mal drifted off listening to Zoe’s breathing, coughing, breathing. At some time during the night he flung his arm over her. After that, they both slept soundly.