(no subject)

[flybywash]

Wash is once again by the fireplace with his copy of Jurassic Park. He's curled the cover back on itself in a way that makes his book-loving mun wince, the better to try and hide the title; no use in scaring Dr. Malcolm if they happen to cross paths again.

The streak of paint from last night is still on his forehead, though it's quite smudged and much fainter. You'd think technology from five hundred years in the future would be better at getting that stuff off.

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"It did?" She frowns, and wonders how she had missed this. "Everyone alright?" She gives Wash a narrow look. "You alright?"

[flybywash]

Wash holds up both hands. "I'm fine, I'm fine. It was a while ago. 'Bout a month back we had to do a drop in a blackout zone -- they're really dodgy sort of places, you can get arrested on sight if the Alliance spots you in one. So, me being me, I worried. A lot. And then the nav proceeded to break down right as a cruiser was coming in and left us at the mercy of sarcastic interrogators and way-too-thorough cargo searches. Took us days to get airborne again."

He scratches the back of his neck. "Plus, Simon and River had to hide here so they wouldn't get caught and we wouldn't get charged with harbouring known fugitives. That was a whole other level of nothing even resembling fun. But everything's shiny," he amends hurriedly. "Like I said: a while ago."