(no subject)

[flybywash]

It's turning into yet another late night on Serenity. He's checked the course as many times as he can, done a couple of fuel-conserving tweaks on it, and wrapped up part forty-eight of The Rolling Plains of That Grassy Place. (Oscar died a horrible death at Crichton's stubby little hands. It was very sad.)

So now Wash is sitting on the cargo bay catwalk with a stack of paper scraps. The spaceball hoop's winched down a few feet, and he's aiming some neatly-folded paper airplanes through it.

Comments

[gonna_live]

"...what kind of question is that?" She's grinning. "'Course she would."

[flybywash]

A whole flock of glittery paper birds.

Just think of the dinnertime sabotage opportunities there.

The best approximation of Wash's expression as he grabs another paper scrap is, 'oooooh.' "This," he proclaims, "has to happen. Here, can you show me how you -- ?"

Planes are easy. It's the more artistic paper folding that trips him up.

[gonna_live]

"Shi a. Okay. So. You start with a square piece -- "



All in all, there are worse ways to wear off a caffeine high before bed.