A/N: Written at the request of Tel nok shock, who PMed me asking for a follow-up chapter. I hope this is satisfactory! Betaed by the lovely Rilwen-Shadowflame, without whom I would probably be lost.

Despite Simon's reassurances that he had everything under control, Serenity's pilot was in the kitchen alternately wandering around restlessly and sitting and trying to look calm. It wasn't working very well.

His nervousness had communicated itself to the rest of the crew; everyone was trying to occupy themselves with something. Even River, who as a general rule wouldn't be fazed if someone came at her screaming with an axe, had got fidgety. She was curled up on one of the chairs with a piece of string, which she was weaving into complex patterns around her fingers.

Mal seemed to be resisting the urge to go down to the infirmary and check on things, but they had all reached an unspoken consensus that Zoë and Simon were to be left alone unless there was a call for help. This was not an experience any of them wanted to intrude on - except Inara, who went down every so often to check on how things were going, and returned each time with nothing to report.

With little else to do, his thoughts drifted back to when he'd first found out...

"Wash, can I talk to you?"

"That sounds ominous," he said lightly, checking the autopilot and turning away from the controls with a wince. The chest wound still hadn't finished healing. "It's not like I'm busy at the moment..." Her expression suggested this wasn't a good time for levity. "Is there something wrong? You look like there's something wrong."

"Not exactly," Zoë said, stepping in and pulling the door to, "but I thought we oughta talk."

"Well, sure." He gave her a reassuring smile as she perched on the console beside him. "So, what's up?"

She took his hand, frowning a little. "I've been feeling... a little bit off."

"That's understandable. It's only been, what, five or six weeks since we were -"

"It's not that." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "Been talking to the doctor about it. He had a look, checked me over. Seems we're havin' a baby."

"Well, if Simon thinks it's -" The part of his brain that had processed her last statement whacked the rest of it into paying attention. "We're what?!"

"I'm pregnant, Wash. Maybe two and a half months, Simon says."

"But we were -"

"I know." She squeezed his hand gently. "Somethin' must've gone wrong somewhere with the precautions. But fact is, this baby's comin'."

He nodded reluctantly, and frowned. "Two and a half months? But that means we - you were -" He blanched. "Zao gao!"

"Wash..."

Disregarding the strain from his chest, he hugged her close. "You could've lost us both."

She hugged back, but gently. "I know." He felt her kiss his cheek, and then she took his shoulders and held his gaze. "But it didn't happen. An' I ain't gonna let anythin' else get in the way of you an' me meetin' this baby."

"Love you, Zoë," he murmured, pulling her close for a kiss.

Wash was snapped out of his worrying as Kaylee set down a steaming cup by his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "Oh - thanks, Kaylee."

"No problem," she replied, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze and sitting next to him. "Just try to relax a bit. Simon said everything's goin' okay, an' - well, he'd know, right?"

"Yeah." He stared into the cup of tea. "It's just…"

"Yeah?"

"Why's this gotta take so long?"

As if in response, there was a clatter of footsteps coming up the rear stairs, and Inara appeared at the kitchen door. "Wash, you should come downstairs."

He knocked over the mug in his scramble to get up, feeling a surge of panic. "Why? Is there something wrong? Is Zoë okay?"

"She's fine, she's asking for you is all. Go on." The Companion barely dodged in time as he sped past her, almost tripping on the doorframe in his rush to get downstairs.

Simon looked up and smiled broadly as Wash entered the medbay. "The expectant father appears," he said lightly. "Just in time, too. We're almost there."

"Wash," Zoë gasped, and he was by her side at once, clutching her hand.

"I'm here, I'm right here. Are you okay?"

Flushed, sweating, and clearly in pain, she nonetheless managed to give him a brief smile. "Just glad this's almost over." Her grip told a different story, though; his fingers were slowly being crushed. Not that he would show it; she needed him to be strong for her right now.

"You're gonna be fine," he told her warmly. "You're doin' great."

"Doc? How much longer is this gonna take?" she managed between gasps.

"Should be any minute now," Simon said from the other end of the bed, as Inara arrived to take Zoë's other hand. "Things are progressing very well."

"Nothing's gone wrong?" Wash demanded.

"Not a thing. This is one of the smoothest births I've seen."

"How many have you - ngh!" Despite himself, Wash grimaced and winced as his wife's grip tightened considerably and she curled up a little with a groan.

Simon almost beamed. "That's it, Zoë, it's coming! Push!"

"Give her some support -" Inara was wrapping her arm round Zoë's shoulders, and Wash did the same, focusing on Zoë's face and encouraging her, though he wasn't even sure what he was saying at this point.

Finally - finally, thank God - she relaxed, taking deep, shuddering breaths, and a baby began to cry.

Oh god, the baby's actually here…

The next thing Wash knew, he'd been firmly seated next to the bed and Simon was offering him a blanket-wrapped bundle. "Congratulations," the doctor said, giving both him and Zoë a delighted smile. "It's a girl."

With shaking hands, the new father accepted and took his first look at his daughter.

Her skin was almost as dark as Zoë's, the faint fuzz of hair on her head was almost black, and her eyes, staring up at him curiously, were deep brown.

"Zoë, she's... she's beautiful," he breathed, fascinated by the tiny person in his arms.

Zoë gave him a weary smile. "Told you she would be," she replied. "Now, do I get to hold her?"

"Sure..." He very carefully passed the fragile little being over, and watched as Zoë's expression melted into one of absolute love. As Simon and Inara finished cleaning up and slipped out, he shifted over to perch on the edge of the bed and stroked their daughter's cheek with one finger.

"You told me once you had a name for a girl," he murmured.

"Yeah." She smiled. "What d'you think about Sarah?"

He rested one arm round her waist and leaned his head against hers. "Sounds perfect."

The newly christened Sarah Washburne, oblivious to the weighty decisions passing over her head, dozed off. Zoe, tired as she was, didn't take long to join her, leaving Wash cuddled up to them and in no mood to go anywhere.