milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Wes has honestly been keeping up his practising of English letters. Just, you know, at a leisurely pace.

He's at a table now with his notepad, a pen, and the primer Val gave him, writing out as much of the alphabet as he can from memory, then checking against the sheet.

He manages about half each time.

He does a lot better at writing words like "vodka", "whiskey" and "drink".

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"A notepad," Wes says, deadpan. "Flim-si. Or pa-per."

He opens his mouth, then closes it. "Shut up."

"Okay," Wes says, and does.

Well, Tycho told him to. And Wes always does what he's told.

A very slight eyeroll. "What does the lettering mean?"

Now there is a slightly rueful grin.

"It says 'drink'."

Beat.

"I've memorised the important words, you see."

Tycho grins. "I see. How's the bartending coming?"

"Well!" he says brightly. "I was thinking of taking it up permanently, you know -- giving up all this fighter pilot nonsense."

He's probably done a couple shifts off-screen, but that'll be it so far.

"I was about to ask when we were going to lose you to the lucrative world of high-end bartending."

Tycho? Dry? Never.

"I know you'd all find it terribly hard to cope without me."

Wes sighs dramatically.

"So if you really insist I keep flying, well, I'm sure Madame Lilly would understand."

He raises an eyebrow, and he feels like he shouldn't be amused, really, but he is. "Madame Lilly? That's what the owner of the brothel goes by?"

Well. At least she's traditional?

Wes snickers and nods.

"Absolutely. And the title's very important. At least it's more interesting than colonel or general."

Then he adds, thoughtfully, "And she's better-looking than you or Wedge. Maybe she would be a better permanent boss."

Tycho looks mock-affronted. "Wedge and I are pretty."

"Of course you are," Wes says with a grin. "Not as pretty as me, but still very pretty. 'fraid Lilly beats even you two on that, though."

A pause and then, in a conspiratorial whisper, "She might even be as pretty as me."

"Wow. That's pretty," he deadpans.

"I know," Wes says solemnly. "No one else in the galaxy has reached that level."

A bemused pause, and then he just shakes his head. "You're ridiculous, Wes."

"Yep," he agrees cheerfully, "and that's why everyone loves me."

Beat.

"I mean, apart from the already-stated prettiness."

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