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Jul. 6th, 2006 01:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wordslingingTitle: Leaders
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Zoe, Mal
Rating: G
Summary: A brief look at Mal and Zoe during the war, written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
neenie, Mal-mun over at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
milliways_bar
Despite being outranked by and under the command of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, Corporal Zoe Warren had had been a soldier for substantially longer. Mal was a fairly recent volunteer, promoted quickly. Zoe had joined up with a local militia on her homeworld right out of school, and had been among the first to ship offworld when conflict with the Alliance got big enough and bloody enough to be called a war.
This alone wouldn’t have been enough for him to feel intimidated by her, but Zoe could be, well, intimidating. The general they both answered to had been known to say that if he’d had a whole platoon of soldiers like her, he’d have the Alliance running scared in a week. As it was, those who sometimes ended up running scared were the Browncoats’ own grunts.
Mal was different. In the time the 57th Overlanders had been fighting together, all of them had seen their sergeant be plenty hard when he had to be. But at day’s end, when they were back in camp and as relaxed as they ever got, the hardness didn’t show so much. What showed in its place was an easy wit and a seeming lack of concern for the fact that his sense of fun sometimes made him look a fool. This endeared him to some, but others would look from where Zoe sat diligently cleaning a gun to where Mal sat laughing over some joke and wonder why she was taking his orders, instead of the other way around.
Mal wasn’t unaware of this. More than that, he wasn’t as sure as he’d like to be that these wonderings were wrong.
He wasn’t about to bring this up to Zoe in so many words, but he didn’t see that there was anything too unmanly in asking sort of obliquely, one night, why she’d settled at corporal when she probably could have earned further promotion.
Zoe had been in the act of pouring them both cups of what passed for coffee in their rations. She paused, glanced up at him for a moment, then calmly returned to her task.
“This have anythin’ t’ do with what the troops’ve been sayin’, sir?” she asked as she handed him his.
“Shénme?” Mal feigned ignorance, or at least tried; the attempt might have fooled some but didn’t fool Zoe.
“People talk, sir.” Zoe was pouring her own coffee now. “An’ other people hear ‘em.”
Mal settled back, doing his best not to let his expression give anything away. He was good at that, when he wanted to be.
“Well, maybe they do.”
Zoe looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then, dropping her gaze to her coffee, she began to speak.
“I’ve been fightin’ a good stretch o’ time now, sir. An’ in that time, the people I’ve fought with or against mostly fall into three groups. There’s people who won’t ever be much good at leadin’ others, those who can lead when they have to—an’ then there’s leaders.”
Mal sipped his coffee, grimacing slightly at the taste, and then asked, “So what’s the difference ‘tween leaders an’ folks who can lead?”
“Well, the type who can lead are just that. They’re capable. They keep it together when it gets rough. They got all the leadership skills you can learn or teach. But there’s somethin’ about leadin’ that you can’t be taught. You’ve either got it, or you don’t.”
Mal glanced at her sidelong. “An’ havin’ that is what really makes someone a leader, that what you’re gettin’ at?”
Zoe nodded, then glanced up from her coffee, meeting his eyes.
“People who can lead, an’ people who’re really leaders. I’m one o’ the first type.”
Mal looked at her, eyebrows going up a bit. “You sayin’ I’m the second?”
Zoe leaned back, giving him a considering look. Then, with just a hint of a smile. “Ain’t rightly sure yet, sir. But I think so.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee, before Zoe added, in a low tone, “Guess we’ll find out.”
Fandom: Firefly
Characters/Pairings: Zoe, Mal
Rating: G
Summary: A brief look at Mal and Zoe during the war, written for
neenie, Mal-mun over at milliways_barDespite being outranked by and under the command of Sergeant Malcolm Reynolds, Corporal Zoe Warren had had been a soldier for substantially longer. Mal was a fairly recent volunteer, promoted quickly. Zoe had joined up with a local militia on her homeworld right out of school, and had been among the first to ship offworld when conflict with the Alliance got big enough and bloody enough to be called a war.
This alone wouldn’t have been enough for him to feel intimidated by her, but Zoe could be, well, intimidating. The general they both answered to had been known to say that if he’d had a whole platoon of soldiers like her, he’d have the Alliance running scared in a week. As it was, those who sometimes ended up running scared were the Browncoats’ own grunts.
Mal was different. In the time the 57th Overlanders had been fighting together, all of them had seen their sergeant be plenty hard when he had to be. But at day’s end, when they were back in camp and as relaxed as they ever got, the hardness didn’t show so much. What showed in its place was an easy wit and a seeming lack of concern for the fact that his sense of fun sometimes made him look a fool. This endeared him to some, but others would look from where Zoe sat diligently cleaning a gun to where Mal sat laughing over some joke and wonder why she was taking his orders, instead of the other way around.
Mal wasn’t unaware of this. More than that, he wasn’t as sure as he’d like to be that these wonderings were wrong.
He wasn’t about to bring this up to Zoe in so many words, but he didn’t see that there was anything too unmanly in asking sort of obliquely, one night, why she’d settled at corporal when she probably could have earned further promotion.
Zoe had been in the act of pouring them both cups of what passed for coffee in their rations. She paused, glanced up at him for a moment, then calmly returned to her task.
“This have anythin’ t’ do with what the troops’ve been sayin’, sir?” she asked as she handed him his.
“Shénme?” Mal feigned ignorance, or at least tried; the attempt might have fooled some but didn’t fool Zoe.
“People talk, sir.” Zoe was pouring her own coffee now. “An’ other people hear ‘em.”
Mal settled back, doing his best not to let his expression give anything away. He was good at that, when he wanted to be.
“Well, maybe they do.”
Zoe looked at him in silence for a long moment. Then, dropping her gaze to her coffee, she began to speak.
“I’ve been fightin’ a good stretch o’ time now, sir. An’ in that time, the people I’ve fought with or against mostly fall into three groups. There’s people who won’t ever be much good at leadin’ others, those who can lead when they have to—an’ then there’s leaders.”
Mal sipped his coffee, grimacing slightly at the taste, and then asked, “So what’s the difference ‘tween leaders an’ folks who can lead?”
“Well, the type who can lead are just that. They’re capable. They keep it together when it gets rough. They got all the leadership skills you can learn or teach. But there’s somethin’ about leadin’ that you can’t be taught. You’ve either got it, or you don’t.”
Mal glanced at her sidelong. “An’ havin’ that is what really makes someone a leader, that what you’re gettin’ at?”
Zoe nodded, then glanced up from her coffee, meeting his eyes.
“People who can lead, an’ people who’re really leaders. I’m one o’ the first type.”
Mal looked at her, eyebrows going up a bit. “You sayin’ I’m the second?”
Zoe leaned back, giving him a considering look. Then, with just a hint of a smile. “Ain’t rightly sure yet, sir. But I think so.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee, before Zoe added, in a low tone, “Guess we’ll find out.”
