Round 50 fic: Few Words, But Meaningful (Faith/Zoe, R)

Title Few Words, But Meaningful
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Faith/Zoe
Rating Mild R
Words 650
Prompt for Cat, who wanted darts, ice, fight



The tattooed drunk on the right was weaving towards them, screaming about the dumb bet he'd made against their darts-playing skills. The tattooed drunk on the left was getting up, spinning his chair round to serve as a weapon. Shame that the bar, though grimy as hell, wasn't some cheap dive where the furniture folded into matchwood at the first sign of trouble. Left-Drunk could do some severe damage if a hot, dangerous woman couldn't get a boot or a blade to him before he got that chair swinging.

But that wouldn't be an issue.

"Got your back."

"I know you do."

Thing Faith appreciated most about Zoe? Woman knew from laconic. Thing she appreciated second most? One damn fine fighter, this warrior woman. Not a Slayer, but she moved like lava: inevitable, destructive flow. Hot as hell, too.

These sloppy outer planets' drunks weren't the biggest challenge, for sure, but they had a few friends who tried to get in on the fun, and a little teamwork was required to stop the fight escalating from bloody to deadly. Which woulda been inconvenient, since they needed to stay 'round Ash for a month or more for repairs.

But no big. They dealt. Faith had time to watch Zoe: using her feet when she could, sometimes her hands, smashing Drunk B's chair into the face of Drunk F, while taking out a possible new fight entrant with the backswing. No damn weapons if they didn't have to. And they didn't. Faith laid out Drunks A, C-E and G in a neat line beside the doorway, and tried not to limp as she left. Damn unpredictable drunks. One of them had got a hit on her with some kinda sharpish farm implement. Embarrassing.

On the shuttle back to Serenity, once safely out of orbital pathway, Zoe started to laugh silently. Faith considered denying her the satisfaction, but since Zoe was both piloting and had access to the ice-maker, and Faith had a ballooning knee that severely needed cold compression, she caved. "You're gonna blame me for this, aren't you?"

Zoe snickered. "Every. Single. Time."

"All I did was walk into the bar! Can I help it if I drive guys wild with desire to beat me at old-school bar games? And lose money, the total numb-nuts. And try to fight me!"

They were coming in to dock, so Zoe merely rolled her eyes and passed Faith a handful of ice and rags to bind her knee. Faith tried not to hold her breath as the parking manoeuvres in motherfucking outer space happened seamlessly. Again. Never would get used to this one. Zoe's piloting skills were maybe fourth on the list of things Faith appreciated about her. Lesser fliers made Faith feel like she was about to hurl, which got old fast.

Zoe rolled her smooth, steady self out of the shuttle chair to report in to Mal (and probably rat out Faith's invincible bar-fight-inducing skills). Faith watched her, buckskins and leather snuggling up to damn fine hips and thighs as she strode down the companionway.

Faith could have headed down into the ship, gotten some bland protein bars to take the edge off the post-fight hunger.

Could have. Instead, Faith made it no further than their bed, which was a handy eight feet away, and taking up most of the floor space in the shuttle. They both liked their space. For sleep, and other stuff.

Chances of anyone other than Zoe coming in here? Not high. Mal knew better. River and Simon were with Inara on Xenon, and Jayne was back in the bar on Ash, probably making best buds with the drunk guys, assuming they were conscious again.

Time to prep Zoe a little surprise. Not deserved, after the laughter, but Faith was gonna get something out of this one too.

Eased out of her pants, though she strapped the ice pack back on to help her knee out meantime. Fingers went walking between her thighs, making good use of the slick trail that a fight with Zoe at her back always produced.

She was rocking nice and lazy when the shuttle door opened. Just starting the climb, enjoying the journey but nowhere near the top. Coulda got herself off, no trouble, knee twinges or no.

"Need a hand?"

"Mouth'd be better."

Second thoughts, there were things about Zoe that Faith appreciated more than her fighting.

*