Disclaimer: Firefly and most of these characters belong to Joss Whedon. Love him.

~ For Wash, who wanted to be the hero of a crappy town. And for Alan Tudyk who wanted Wash to have flown a few sorties in the War.

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CHECK MATE: Defending the black rook.

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2518 Late December.

“Need to jump. Now!”

Her husband's urgent voice roused Zoe from sleep. She smiled with deep satisfaction as she processed his words. “Again, honey? Ain't you tired yet?” She rolled over luxuriously and scooped him towards her with a long, muscular arm. Well, she was awake now and it would be a shame not to make the most of his enthusiasm.

He struggled a bit against her tightening embrace but the low moan that issued from his lips reassured her he hadn't changed his mind. She was leaning over him, nibbling and licking her way down his throat and onto his chest, when he suddenly yelled, “Gonna get humped hard!” and flung her backwards across the bed.

In a flash she was back on top of him, straddling him and pinning him down by the wrists. “You been takin' lessons in seduction from Jayne?” she asked coolly but determined to nip this little game in the bud. Zoe was no prude but she wasn't going to start role-playing the submissive for anyone. It just wasn't in her nature.

“Huh?” Wash mumbled. A light came on in his eyes and they widened with alarm as he registered his wife looming over him, looking less than amourous. It didn't help to realize that she had in some sort of unbreakable hold. “Is there a problem, lamby-toes?”

She realized he'd only been dreaming and released her grip a little, only to tighten it harder still when she began picturing the kind of dream he'd likely been having.

“Ow!” Wash was bleary with sleep and was having difficulty in making sense of his wife's mood.

“Bad dream, sweet cakes?” she asked in a tone that was far from soothing.

He thought back. “Yeah, I think it was. I was flying...”

“How Freudian.”

“I was flying in the war. Me! In the war! Can you imagi