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Fly, my monkeys, fly! Do my evil bidding!

-- is what Wash would be saying if knew anything about The Wizard or Oz. Or, in fact, had flying monkeys on hand.

Instead, he has a remote-controlled Hummer, which is turning swift figure-eights around the many table legs in the bar...and, through the miracle of modern technology and a few well-placed modifications, has a small vid recorder mounted on top.

It's almost as good.

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If toy cars could do a nothing-to-see-here-move-along whistle, this one would.

Alas, it is not sentient, and just inches forward and back. Innocently.

Well, hey, gotta give it some credit for trying. Ray lifts his foot out of the way, then looks around for anyone who might be giving the same sort of expression. Especially someone who might have a remote in his or her hands.

Wash does not look innocent in the least. He's rather grinning a fair bit, though.

And look, there's the remote!

The Hummer loops around Ray's foot again as Wash waves hello.

Ray smiles and waves back. "Yo, Wash. Nice piece of work. I would've guessed it was Harper." He starts making his way across the room once he's sure he can do it without stepping on the Hummer. "How's it going?"

Wash grins. "Hey, we'd just pulled a scrapdive, I was bored, Ace gave me the car for New Year's and I needed a new way to drive Mal crazy..."

The Hummer rolls to a halt under his table.

"Never again will logic and timing converge so impeccably." And then he beams. "It's going great. Look, look at this -- "

He fishes out his cane from where it's resting and holds it up.

"This," solemnly, "is what happens when crutches finally give up and go home."

Ray looks at the crutch, blinks a few times- then he grins. "Hey, you got it working again! That's great, congratulations! Do you think it's in good enough condition to play indoor Quidditch, or will you still be doing the cameraman schtick?"

"I'm probably gonna end up a slow-moving limpy target if I try to play, so I'll stick with the behind the scenes job for now." Still grinning fit to burst. "But hey, maybe in another three months I'll be in good enough shape. When's that going to start up, do you know yet?"

"I was hoping to do it as soon as possible once my major time-eater's been resolved," Ray says. "Ace has expressed a very strong interest indeed in staging a Jedi-versus-Time Lords version of the game, possibly using her TARDIS as the venue since nowhere else is really going to allow safe viewing of a game played at that kind of speed. The Jedi (other than me) have preternatural reflexes and Force mojo like you wouldn't believe, but the Time Lords (other than Ace) can fold time itself and step through it to a limited degree if necessary. It'd be the kind of thing you have to watch slowed down eight or ten times." He grins. "She wants to sell tickets..."

Wash's eyes have been slowly widening as Ray describes the scenario. In his mind, a much briefer version's unwinding, and it's one of those mental images that would make a lesser man jawdrop.

Wash is totally one of those lesser men.

"We should," he agrees, emphatically. "Hell, if I wasn't elected camera-guy, I'd buy one -- okay, there's that cross-currency problem, but Bar's changed money for me before, that'd be easy enough to work out. Wow. Something like that, you'd get all kinds of people wanting to see it."

"I'll let Ace know," Ray promises. "Next time I see her. I have to run it by Tahiri or Master Qui-Gon, whoever I find first among the Jedi, but still..."

He nods.

"So who else is on the Time Lord team? The only one I've met besides Ace is the Doctor. Are there more? In hiding?"

A mock-suspicious look toward the rest of the bar's populace.

"Well, we had two of the Doctor in here the other day," Ray says, "so if Four comes back at the same time as Nine, that makes three Time Lords. Four, including my fiancee, if she wants to play too."

He grins.

"That makes my head hurt," Wash says conversationally, "and I like how you just slipped in the fiancee bit like that. Very sneaky." A broad grin in return. "Congratulations, Ray. When'd this happen?"

"Well, hey, given that when I told my friend Egon about it straight out it sort of sent his brain into Blue Screen of Death mode for a solid sixty seconds, I figured I had better be subtle about it," says Ray. "And thank you. Not this past Thursday, but the Thursday before. I still have trouble believing Romana actually said yes."

He laughs. "I think I walked around the ship in a daze for a solid month after Zoe said yes. And then another month on top of that after the actual wedding -- can I ask about dates without inciting panic and burbling, or should I divert to another topic to keep the night burble-free?"

Ray shakes his head. "No, no panic, no worries. If only because we're talking about a Time Lord here. "Have you set a date yet" doesn't so much mean "sixty days from now" as it does "possibly in 1923, possibly sometime about a thousand years ahead of here on a planet in the Sag Arm" when you've got a TARDIS at hand."

Wash lets out a low whistle.

"Yeah, talk about handy connections. Can she do that sideways-jumping thing, too? Ace was talking about that, testing it out with her TARDIS and Serenity sometime soon."

"That, unfortunately, I couldn't tell you," Ray says. "But probably, yeah. She's got one of the newer models of TARDIS and she knows the manual backwards, forwards, and upside down. I'm pretty sure she could make it do whatever she needed it to do."

Vaguely shifty look.

"'Cause...I don't know. if she can do that, there's this Core moon called Tianhou in my 'verse that has the best night view you'll get dirtside. They got a couple secluded parks where the Alliance ain't shadowing you everywhere you go, too. Just to, you know, add to the options."

Ray gets a very thoughtful look. "I'll have to ask her about that," he says. "That sounds really promising, if we can't convince Nikola Tesla to let us use the grounds of his lab."

(OOC: 's late, must sleep. Slowtime?)

"Nikola Tesla?"

It's ringing a few distant bells, but Wash's grasp of Earth-That-Was history has some very noticeable holes in it.

[ooc: sure thing :) Sleep well!]

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