c o l d . f e e t

Cold Feet
[by victoria p.]

Rating: PG

Summary: Everything was ready for the wedding. The only thing missing was the groom.

Spoilers: None

Notes: All Nichole's fault. Not only did she force me to write it (she did!), she came up with most of the funny stuff, and then did the beta, too. There's a story behind this story, but I kinda can't tell it yet.

Date: December 4, 2005

The morning of his wedding day, Wash slipped away from Serenity to check on the arrangements he'd made for the dinner after the ceremony. They'd had a good run of jobs in the past few weeks, and he was feeling flush. He wanted to show Zoe -- and Mal -- that he could take care of her, give her everything she needed. And a sumptuous wedding feast was only the start.

He spent more time than expected going over the menu with Franz, and had to hurry back to the docks to change; he was sure if he was late, Mal would never let him hear the end of it. He didn't even want to think of facing Zoe if that happened.

He was just congratulating himself once again on being the luckiest man in the 'verse for convincing Zoe to even give him the time of day, let alone marry him, when he got hit in the head, and everything went black.

***

Zoe looked up to see Kaylee at the hatch. "Can I come down?"

Zoe nodded, and went back to putting the finishing touches on her lipstick. She couldn't remember the last time she'd dolled herself up like this, hair cascading freely down her back, slinky red dress clinging like a second skin, warm and comfortable as Wash's hands on her body. He had big, soft hands, knew how to touch a woman, and they trembled sometimes when he touched her, gentle and slow, as if he still couldn't believe she was allowing it. Sometimes, she couldn't believe it herself.

Kaylee was dressed up her own self, hair tied back with a ribbon and face scrubbed clean of grease. Over her arm she carried a folded piece of red cloth, and Zoe shook her head, laughing.

"Thought I said I didn't need a veil."

There were tears in Kaylee's eyes as she unfolded the delicate cloth. "It was on sale," she said, "and besides, it's traditional. Don't want any bad luck at the start of your marriage."

Zoe sighed and bowed to the inevitable; she caught the scent of sandalwood as Kaylee wafted the sheer material over her head.

Another knock at the hatch and the captain yelled down, "You decent?"

"We'll be right up, Cap'n," Kaylee said, shimmying up the ladder.

Zoe followed at a more dignified pace. Married, she thought in awe, I'm getting married. She'd always heard the expression about having butterflies in the belly, but had never understood it 'til now. Though it didn't feel so much like butterflies -- pretty delicate things couldn't possibly cause much damage -- as wild space monkeys taking up residence in her stomach. She kept her face calm, though, and showed no fear. Not that Mal wouldn't see it anyway; not that he'd ever been able to hide his emotions from her, either.

Mal was wearing his best suit (his only suit) and though the cuffs were a little shiny with wear, he looked like a fine gentleman, and she was proud.

He left her at the doorway to go and sit in one of the chairs in the common area, which Kaylee had festooned with streamers and lanterns. Kaylee settled next to him. Neither her parents nor Wash's were alive to see their joyful day -- Mal was the only family she had now -- and Zoe hadn't wanted to get married in a church (wasn't sure she could have asked it of Mal, either, though she'd never forget the look on his face the day Wash asked him to perform the ceremony. Hadn't seen a man turn that red in ages. She and Wash had laughed over it for damn near half an hour once they'd gotten back to her bunk.), so they'd decided to do it the old way. A small shrine was set up on the table, pictures of their families surrounding it, small candles flickering in the light from overhead. Kaylee'd even had some soft music piped in for the occasion.

The only thing missing was Wash.

She flipped up the veil and glared at Mal. "What the hell did you do with my bridegroom?"

***

When he came to, Wash was blindfolded and tied to a hard wooden chair. His head throbbed in pain, his arms hurt and his the tips of his fingers were going numb. He shifted a little, tried to loosen the rough ropes binding his wrists and ankles, and found very little give at all.

"Cào nî zûxia-n shí bâ dai," he muttered, then, louder, "Mal? What the hell are you doing? This isn't funny!" His voice echoed oddly in the room, and there was no answer. "I know you didn't want me and Zoe to get married, but don't you think this is going a little far?"

He heard the sound of footsteps then, and the creak of leather boots. He smelled an unwashed body, stale tobacco and sour mash, and had time to think, Not Mal, then, before his head was snapped back by a punch to the jaw.

"Ow!" He could taste the salt-copper tang of blood where his teeth had split his lip.

"Sarge thought it was a bad idea, huh? I knowed it. Zoe ain't for the likes of you." The voice was low and harsh, right next to his ear, and the stink of cigarettes and whiskey was even stronger.

He closed his eyes, not that it mattered with the blindfold on, and let his head fall back, mind racing. Sarge? Zoe hadn't invited anyone to the wedding, said she wanted to keep it small, intimate, though he knew she was worried about spending all their money before they'd even started their life together, but in the end, she'd sent a wave to Monty, an old army buddy of hers and Mal's, one of the few they'd kept in touch with.

Wash had met Monty once, and this wasn't him.

"That's for Zoe to say, don't you think?" he said slowly.

Another punch, this one to his gut. "I think you should shut your gorram trap."

He was sucking wind, so he wouldn't have been able to answer even if he'd thought it was a good idea. The boots creaked away and then he heard a door slam, and he figured he was alone.

He wondered how Mal and Zoe would find him, and hoped they'd do it soon.

***

"Told you you shouldn't've said yes," Mal said with a smirk she wanted to wipe right off his face.

She reached for the gun that was not currently strapped to her thigh and then tore through the corridor to her bunk so she could get her weapons. Mal and Kaylee followed.

"I will put a bullet in you if you don't tell me what you've done with him," she shouted up at Mal.

"I didn't do anything! Honestly, Zoe. Maybe he did a runner. Marriage ain't for everyone, you know. Takes a brave man to wed a woman like you."

"Wash is brave. He ain't crazy brave like you, but he's brave enough, and you know it. Wouldn't still be flying this gorram boat if he weren't."

"That's a different kind of brave."

"Maybe he's just running late. He said he had some errands to do," Kaylee interrupted, and Zoe thought she was kind of brave her own self, stepping in between them while they were both yelling like crazy folk. "Maybe he's buying you another wedding present."

Mal muttered something that sounded like, "Well, he sure ain't no prize by himself," but he shut his mouth when she glared at him. At least he wasn't laughing anymore.

"We have to find him," she said. She stopped long enough to pull on her boots and strap on her guns beneath her wedding dress.

"I'll go check the local news channels, see if there's any chatter," Kaylee said, making herself useful. Zoe had always liked Kaylee.

Mal handed her her favorite shotgun as she closed the hatch to her bunk behind her. "Kaylee, let us know if you hear anything. We'll check in periodically, or if we find him. Don't open up unless it's me, and unless I say, 'Kaylee, it's me. Open the gorram door.'"

Kaylee looked at him skeptically, still not quite used to him even after a couple months on the crew. "That's the password?"

He shrugged a shoulder and flashed a half-grin. "Well, it's what I'll say when I forget the password, so it may as well be."

Zoe rolled her eyes at this bit of fèi huà, and started down toward the cargo bay, impatient to find Wash.

She was sure he hadn't gotten cold feet.

***

Wash had tried to formulate an escape plan while his captor was gone, but he came back too quickly, and he liked to hit Wash at random intervals, which really played havoc with his ability to think. Mostly, his escape plan was to not pass out and hope Zoe and Mal arrived soon.

***

At the restaurant, Franz told them that Wash had been in earlier, but could tell them nothing else. Zoe's stomach clenched in fear, but she didn't let it show on her face. Mal knew anyway, she was sure. His hand rested briefly on her shoulder as they walked back out into the sunlight.

They questioned shopkeepers and pedestrians, but if Wash had been snatched from the street, he could be anywhere by now. Zoe tightened her fingers round the handle of her gun and told herself they'd find him. They had to. It was her wedding day, gorrammit.

She was reaching the end of her patience, and she could tell the captain had already, from the pinched look of his mouth, when she heard her name being called.

"Zoe! Sarge!"

"Kyle Crosley," Mal said in surprise, shaking hands with the young man who ran up to meet them. "What're you doing here?"

"Monty told me Zoe was getting married, and I figured I'd give a look in." Kyle pushed a hand through his hair, which had been slicked back, and he wore a suit that didn't look much newer than Mal's, though it wasn't quite as tight across the shoulders. Zoe noticed his knuckles were bruised and hastily bandaged, and the way Mal glanced at her, she could tell he'd noticed, too. "You look right pretty in that dress, Zoe," he continued nervously.

"Thank you," she said, taking his arm and trying not to let her anger lure her into doing something stupid. That was Mal's department. "You look pretty shuài your own self."

He blushed and dropped his gaze. "So shouldn't you be getting ready? Or is the sarge making you work on your wedding day?"

"We're just having some minor difficulties," Mal said as they walked. "Seems our groom's gone missing."

"Probably got cold feet. You know, you're a hell of a woman, Zoe. Take a real man to hold your love."

"Wash is a real man," she replied, the sweetness in her voice and smile covering the steel of her resolve. "And I'd really like to have him back."

Kyle'd never been the brightest boy, but even he picked up on her urgency. "Always wanted you to notice me," he mumbled, walking a little faster. "Couldn't stand hearing you'd be getting hitched without making once last chance to win you over. Had to get him out of the way to do it."

Mal put a hand on his shoulder, and though the gesture looked friendly, Zoe was willing to bet the strength of his grip was hurting Kyle. "Where is he, son?"

"Well, see, I--" Kyle began, and then he threw off their hands and ran down an alleyway that dead-ended at the door of a small, ramshackle cottage.

They exchanged a fleeting glance and sprinted after him; Mal launched himself in the air and tackled Kyle to the ground, banging into the side of the building and splitting the back of his suit jacket down the center.

"Help! Help! Zoe! Mal!" Wash called from inside the shack.

"I love it when they make it easy," she heard Mal say, relief singing in her veins.

"We're coming, honey," she yelled back. Anger lending her strength, she kicked at the doorknob, and the flimsy wood gave way. She rushed into the room, and knelt to remove Wash's blindfold, then cupped his face and kissed him hard. He didn't flinch away, though his jaw was swollen and she could taste blood in his mouth.

"Thank God," he whispered against her lips.

She heard the click of a gun being cocked and turned to see Kyle pointing a gun at Wash, and Mal pointing a gun at Kyle.

"Kyle, you don't want to be doing that," Mal said.

"But Sarge, this piece of lèsè ain't worthy of Zoe."

"I ain't disagreeing with you on that, son," Mal replied. "Hey!" said Wash, and Zoe glared at Mal, who continued, unperturbed, "But it ain't up to us to choose. He's Zoe's choice and we just have to--"

Kyle's finger tightened on the trigger and Mal tackled him again, sending the shot up into one of the ceiling beams.

"Think you can keep him under control this time, Captain?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I reckon I'll manage," he said from where he sat on top of Kyle on the dusty floor.

With her knife, she cut through the ropes binding Wash to the chair, and helped him to his feet. He stumbled against her, and she sat him back down to get himself together.

"Thought you might've gotten cold feet," Mal said from where he was tying Kyle up with the rope Zoe tossed him.

Zoe glared at him again, but Wash stood and drew himself up, all dignified. "I did not get cold feet. My feet are very, very warm, thank you very much. And also tingly, but that's just the circulation returning."

"Listen to this clown," Kyle spat as Mal jerked him upright. "He talks nonsense. Never shuts up. And you're going to--"

She drew her gun and shot Kyle in the foot. "I never again want to hear you say a word against my soon-to-be mister, dong ma?"

"You shot me! I can't believe you shot me! Sarge--"

Mal shook his head. "You'll live, son. Just be glad we ain't leaving you for the law. There's a decent clinic in town here, patch you up right enough." The four of them began limping down the alley. "But if you ever threaten to harm me or mine again, ain't nothing -- not being in the war together -- nothing, that's gonna save you, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," he answered sullenly.

It was a short walk to the clinic, where they deposited the much-subdued Kyle, and then continued on to the docks.

"Kaylee, Kaylee, it's me," Mal said into the comm. "Open the gorram doors."

The doors opened and Kaylee rushed out to help Zoe with Wash. "Oh, we can put a weave right on that," she said, dabbing at his split lip with her finger. He hissed and flinched away. "Sorry."

"I'll take care of it," Zoe said, leading him to the infirmary.

"We don't have to do this today," Zoe murmured as she cleaned his lip and rubbed ice over his bruises. "You're all banged up and--"

"It's our wedding day," he said, cupping her cheek gently and drawing her close for a kiss that tasted of antiseptic. "I don't want to ruin it." He touched his swollen jaw. "Unless you're worried I'll be all funny-looking in our wedding pictures?"

"You're always funny-looking," she said, laughing against his lips, then resting her forehead against his.

***

Forty minutes later, they were married and on their way to the banquet Wash had planned for them. Zoe had never looked more beautiful, even with the hem of her gown all dusty and her boots on instead of the pretty sandals she'd picked out, and he thought his split lip gave him a dashing air, though it would make eating -- and drinking -- a little more painful than he'd like.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Franz took in their somewhat raggedy state with raised eyebrows.

Mal, his jacket held together by Kaylee's quick, sloppy stitches, said, "Well, you know, it ain't an official wedding 'til there's a fight, but we figured we'd take care of that ahead of time, save you some wear and tear on the old place."

Franz laughed and led them to the private dining room Wash had booked earlier, the table covered with snowy linen and lit with elegant red tapers. As they sat down to eat, Wash thought again that he was the luckiest man in the 'verse, because Zoe was now his wife.

The End

****

Cào nî zûxia-n shí bâ dai = fuck eighteen generations of your ancestors
fèi huà = nonsense
shuài = handsome/snazzy
lèsè = garbage

***

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