milliways_bar | (no subject)

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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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A long-suffering sigh.

"I'm going to have to shed my fiendishly clever disguise, aren't I."

Exuent Wash from his booth, cane tapping on the floor as he makes his way over.

~~Dark skippy...the mun's too obsessed~~
"So now that I've drawn you out. How about I buy you a drink for all your trouble?"

See? Sky's not all that bad...even if he is a power ranger.

"Yeah?" He's smiling. "Ain't gonna say no to that."

Claiming the seat next to him, he offers a hand. "Wash, middle of nowhere, 2519."

"Sky Tate, SPD Red Ranger, New Tech City, 2025."

He shakes said hand firmly. Wash might notice the SPD badge on his uniform looks strangely like a police badge.

"So what can I get you?"

A little bit. Some kind of authority, anyway. It has that "look at me, I'm symbolically authoritative!" kind of vibe to it, and gets a brief, curious glance from Wash before he answers.

"Just a beer, xiexie. Uh, any kind, I'm not picky."

When your other main option's born of inter-engine fermentation, you learn not to be that picky.

Sky orders a generic beer for the man and just some coffee for himself.

"So...dare I ask how you stumbled into the bar? And...did you say the middle of nowhere?"

An eyebrow is quirked and he shakes his head.

"Well." He takes a gulp of his beer and holds out a hand, fingers spread wide. "A little over a year ago, I'm opening the door to my ship's bridge, planning to do that helpful thing I like to call my job, right? And all of a sudden I look up and note, with all of my amazing and astute observation talents, that this? Not so much looking like the bridge. Really kind of lacking in the bridge-like features, for the most part. Door's been leading here off and on ever since."

And a nod. "From...the middle of nowhere, yeah. We're out in the black most of the time -- longest we've ever made landfall's no more than a month."

"That's gotta be hard, not really having a planet...or even a piece of land to call home? In New Tech City, we've got a lot of aliens going in and out of the city. A lot of immigration. Someone has to keep tabs on them."

Sky shrugs,

"Personally, I was at HQ, and heading back to my room. Yeah, not happy to find myself in a bar instead of home where I could relax. I just got back from a month at home. I found I kind of miss the place."

Wash lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug. "I like it better out there anyway," he says with a small, almost rueful smile. "You're on the same boat for seven years, the same crew....It is home.

"And it's hard not to miss this place, we got locked out of here for over a month back in the fall -- you forget how much you're relying on it. Even the little stuff. Like, just having fresh food you can get whenever you want. You know what the going price is for blueberries back home? Were I not greedy and saving all of it for myself, I'd smuggle back a boxful and keep Serenity in the sky for a month."

Sky nods,

"I lost most of my family when I was younger. My father died in the line of duty as an SPD officer. My mother, well, she took care of me but we never were that close."

The young man sighs a bit. He glances at the guitar and smirks.

"I guess you could say that my team is my family."

He holds up the bracelet with the red rangers shifting in and out of costume. He stares at the picture of Jack for a moment longer, and then at his father. He sighs and shakes his head.

"Even if one of them left."

Three graves on a little moon surrounded by an ion cloud: one empty, one filled, one no longer needed.

One hundred and sixty waves piled up in a lost account, unread for thirteen years.

Wash doesn't speak for a minute.

"Same way with all of us," he murmurs finally, and takes a long swallow of alcohol. "Even if they leave."

A small quirk of a smile, somewhat flattened at the corners. "I mean, they always know where to come back to, right?"

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