(Edited by author)

Wash set the last chair back into place at the galley table and looked around carefully for anything left out of place. He had washed off the mud, changed into a clean jumpsuit, and then fixed, as best he could, the console. Unfortunately, he had blown a couple ‘a fuses when he’d rearranged the wiring. He’d been in too much of a hurry.

He ran a hand thoughtfully through his strawberry blonde hair, redirecting the spiky disarray somewhat, and thinking about what needed done next. He climbed the steps out of the galley, headed toward the bridge, and had no more then stepped into the corridor when two strong feminine hands seized the front of his flight suit, and he found himself pressed against the wall and held there firmly by Zoë. Her hair was loose; the dark curls a riot about her beautiful face. At first he thought she was angry, but as she looked at him for that breadth of a moment, he saw her dark eyes were hungry and smoldering. His own eyes grew wide for a moment in complete surprise and then he felt her full lips pressed against his, and for a split second he was sure he must’ve died in the crash after all. Good God, her lips were lush, and soft, and tasted better then anything his lips had touched to date.

Zoë felt his surprise, the tension filling his body as she descended upon him. His arms were splayed out from his sides, and his hands were pressed against the cool metal of the bulkhead. She smiled against his mouth then pulled his lower lip between hers, tasting him, coaxing him further, as she decided she liked the flavor of him. Then, with a soft moan of relent, Wash was responding, his arms wound around her pulling her even closer, one hand tangling in her hair as he kissed her back fiercely. Zoë moaned low in her throat as his mouth worked over hers. She in turn devoured him with urgent demand, parting her lips, wanting to taste more of him, and his tongue dipped into the warm recess of her mouth, tangling with hers. His lips were strong and warm, they took as well