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Apr. 1st, 2006 11:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
[From here.]
They break atmo ten minutes later, flames licking at Serenity's nose before they drop into the cool, bright silence of the black. Wash lets go of the controls and drinks it in, letting out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair --
Wait.
Wash frowns. Wiggles the chair around.
It doesn't feel right.
He looks out the windscreen, and is met with an uncertain, unwelcome wariness that he can't place -- the briefest flash of red that he blinks back with a minute shiver.
After several minutes, he gets up, switches the controls over, and crosses to the co-pilot's chair, tumbling into the well-worn fabric with an audible sigh.
There. He leans his head back. That's better.
Some time later, he checks their band trajectory and engages a wave to Bentley Aeronautics.
They break atmo ten minutes later, flames licking at Serenity's nose before they drop into the cool, bright silence of the black. Wash lets go of the controls and drinks it in, letting out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair --
Wait.
Wash frowns. Wiggles the chair around.
It doesn't feel right.
He looks out the windscreen, and is met with an uncertain, unwelcome wariness that he can't place -- the briefest flash of red that he blinks back with a minute shiver.
After several minutes, he gets up, switches the controls over, and crosses to the co-pilot's chair, tumbling into the well-worn fabric with an audible sigh.
There. He leans his head back. That's better.
Some time later, he checks their band trajectory and engages a wave to Bentley Aeronautics.
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Date: 2006-03-31 04:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-31 04:38 am (UTC)Wash grumbles, scratches an ear and keeps his eyes on the stars.
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Date: 2006-03-31 04:46 am (UTC)"...Well, well, well. Wèi, Wash."
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Date: 2006-03-31 04:53 am (UTC)"Hey, Uncle Andy," he says cheerfully, kicking one foot onto the edge of the console as he laces his fingers together over his chest. "How's it going?"
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Date: 2006-03-31 05:00 am (UTC)He leans back momentarily, half-rising from his chair as he cranes to check something behind the screen, and then sits back down again, pushing his sunglasses up on his head.
"You? How's glorious freedom treating you?"
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Date: 2006-03-31 05:09 am (UTC)As he speaks, his focus drifts to the windscreen and back.
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Date: 2006-03-31 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-31 05:19 am (UTC)A breath, and a quick shake of his head as if to rouse himself.
"So. Anyway. How busy's busy? I miss anything good?"
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Date: 2006-03-31 05:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 02:44 am (UTC)"Give me a second." Wash holds up one finger, assuming a thoughtful look. "Wait...wait....
"Nope," he concludes, and immediately drops his hand. "Not surprised."
It's Crowley. Lack of surprise when things start working out in certain individuals' favors has sort of become a standard thing.
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Date: 2006-04-01 02:56 am (UTC)Snort.
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:08 am (UTC)Straight face held for three point six seconds after he finishes saying that.
It might be a new record.
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:12 am (UTC)Sort of.
"Ehehehaaanyway. I hear the way the criminal underbelly passes time in the clink is asking each other what's the first thing they'll do when they get out. You have any plans?"
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 03:24 am (UTC)"Yeah, that reminds me," he says. "I've got a question for you."
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 03:29 am (UTC)And then he affects an earnest, drunken slur and says, complete with Persephone accent and expansive hand gestures:
"D'you know what eternity is? I mean, d'you know what eternity is? There's this big mountain, see, a mile high, at the end of the universe, and once every thousand years there's this little bird -- "
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 03:43 am (UTC)Wash dissolves into a laughing fit.
"How come you never said anything? Bernard shows up with this big stack of books and right on top is this little beat-up white thing and I get to the first page -- "
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Date: 2006-04-01 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 03:56 am (UTC)Seriously. Jayne gets a town. His pseudo-uncle gets a book. Wash is feeling a little left out here.
"Was Aziraphael really that pudgy? I don't remember pudgy."
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Date: 2006-04-01 04:01 am (UTC)He's pinching the bridge of his nose, now, and trying not to start laughing uncontrollably again.
"He used to wear these, these huge jumpers," Crowley illustrates by extending his arms around him, "and then jackets over, and I told him, I said it wouldn't work in his favour, but noooo... Also, the hands. See the hands."
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Date: 2006-04-01 04:06 am (UTC)Wash sinks lower in his chair as he claps a hand to his forehead and howls.
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Date: 2006-04-01 04:14 am (UTC)It is, Crowley feels, one of those timeless classics - but then, Crowley's one of the ones that can get away with it, 99.99% of the time.
Plus, he likes Aziraphael's hands.
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Date: 2006-04-01 04:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 04:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 04:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 04:50 am (UTC)He manages to, mostly, get himself back under control, wiping his eyes.
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Date: 2006-04-01 04:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-01 05:02 am (UTC)Spooky hands ensue. They're a bit like jazz hands, but with more finger-wiggling and wider eyes.
"Fēng kuáng de."
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Date: 2006-04-01 05:07 am (UTC)But not the last.
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Date: 2006-04-01 05:18 am (UTC)He sketches out the shape with his hands, two clawed fingers serving as the curved end.
Back in August, he'd wondered, for a brief stretch, how one of those had ended up on the floor of Serenity's cargo bay.
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Date: 2006-04-01 05:26 am (UTC)A faintly conspiratorial gleam in his eyes, he leans back to check the door again (unnecessary, but old paranoia dies hard) before ducking below the line of sight of the screen. There's a rich wooden sound; a drawer sliding open.
When Crowley sits back up, he's holding, palms upturned proudly, a long, skinny length of black metal. With a curved end.
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Date: 2006-04-02 11:28 pm (UTC)"The Unholy Tyre Iron of Andronicus," he whispers dramatically. With a small, teasing scoff, "And you just leave it sitting around in your desk drawer. For shame. There's museums that'd pay millions for a relic like that."
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Date: 2006-04-02 11:32 pm (UTC)"Well," he says serenely, picking an invisible piece of fluff off the viciously curved teeth, "never know when it might come in handy."
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Date: 2006-04-02 11:48 pm (UTC)But it's knowing, beneath the humor.
Because that is one damn familiar tyre iron he's holding.
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Date: 2006-04-02 11:53 pm (UTC)"Not that it works for everyone, mind," he continues, hefting its weight idly in his hand. "But I've often found that pokers will do almost as well. Or, in a pinch, a beer-bottle or rolled-up newspaper."
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:00 am (UTC)Wash leans forward, expectant.
There has got to be a story behind this.
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:04 am (UTC)"You, uh... ever see a great sodding lion in the bar?"
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-03 12:10 am (UTC)Carefully:
"She?"
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:14 am (UTC)He trails off.
"This is where you're gonna tell me there's another, completely different lion wandering around in the bar, aren't you."
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:17 am (UTC)He facepalms.
"The lion I'm talking about was Jesus."
Fucking Milliways.
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:19 am (UTC)Oh, wait, you were expecting Wash to say something after that lengthly pause?
Maybe another one will work.
Nope. Still speechless.
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:21 am (UTC)He mimes, in miniature, whapping somebody across the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.
Yeah.
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Date: 2006-04-03 12:26 am (UTC)"There are supposed to be words coming out," he says in a tiny, plaintive voice when nothing else happens right away. "Why aren't there words?"
And then he promptly buries his face in his arms as another round of hysterical laughter starts anew.