Agent Washington (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unrecovered) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-06-03 12:25 am
unrecovered) wrote in legionworld2017-06-03 12:25 am
Entry tags:
If There's a Prize for Rotten Judgment (Narrative/Closed)
Who| Wash
What| A little bit of down time leads to a realization.
Where| Wash's quarters
When| After THATH, before Time Ripples
It's been an odd mission. Not bad - just odd. No injuries, no disasters, no completely unexpected surprises, and successes all around, according to his teammates. Wash returns from Olum relaxed and happy and feeling like he's just had a small vacation instead of a mission and it's just odd. Usually a post-mission debrief is preceded by post-mission triage, but there's no need for that this time around.
That said, debriefing still takes a bit, and it's evening when he finally collects DC from his extended stay with Locus and heads back to his quarters, a happily meowing kitten sitting on his shoulder and nosing in his ear. "Yeah, I missed you too." Door open, traps disabled, room entered, and he finally sighs deeply. His room is home away from home, and he needs time to adjust back to it, to things being back to normal, to being in a bed on his own in a room on his own.
He'd missed cuddling. DC, cute as he is, doesn't scratch that itch. Even if it had been an expectation in the Olum resort and a necessity overnight in the cave on the mountain, he'd still quietly enjoyed curling up next to Chief for sleep. It was fine - they were keeping up an act, and Chief knew that Wash liked physical contact beforehand, and they'd talked about everything beforehand. It was just one of the nicer parts of the mission. That's all.
But while he gets ready for bed and turns out the light, he's still thinking about it - about a long hike, and deadpan jokes, and smile gestures, and how hard they'd laughed (well, he'd laughed and Chief had smiled - same thing, really) when the dating game had come up with what's your favorite scary movie as a question, and a pair of tunes that combined into a rather nice song once they'd settled, and just how good it had all felt. He hasn't felt like that since-
Since Maine, mutual but brief, a long time ago. Since Connie, never reciprocated but nonetheless, even further back than that.
Oh.
Shit.
His eyes fly open in the dark. Oh, this is bad. This is not good. "DC," he whispers to the kitten curled up on his chest, "I think I fucked up."
DC, unworried about the state of anyone's romantic affairs, gives a quiet mrap and kneads Wash's chest for a few moments before falling asleep.
And Wash lies awake all night, steeping himself in the long process of denial, trying to remember how to forget.
What| A little bit of down time leads to a realization.
Where| Wash's quarters
When| After THATH, before Time Ripples
It's been an odd mission. Not bad - just odd. No injuries, no disasters, no completely unexpected surprises, and successes all around, according to his teammates. Wash returns from Olum relaxed and happy and feeling like he's just had a small vacation instead of a mission and it's just odd. Usually a post-mission debrief is preceded by post-mission triage, but there's no need for that this time around.
That said, debriefing still takes a bit, and it's evening when he finally collects DC from his extended stay with Locus and heads back to his quarters, a happily meowing kitten sitting on his shoulder and nosing in his ear. "Yeah, I missed you too." Door open, traps disabled, room entered, and he finally sighs deeply. His room is home away from home, and he needs time to adjust back to it, to things being back to normal, to being in a bed on his own in a room on his own.
He'd missed cuddling. DC, cute as he is, doesn't scratch that itch. Even if it had been an expectation in the Olum resort and a necessity overnight in the cave on the mountain, he'd still quietly enjoyed curling up next to Chief for sleep. It was fine - they were keeping up an act, and Chief knew that Wash liked physical contact beforehand, and they'd talked about everything beforehand. It was just one of the nicer parts of the mission. That's all.
But while he gets ready for bed and turns out the light, he's still thinking about it - about a long hike, and deadpan jokes, and smile gestures, and how hard they'd laughed (well, he'd laughed and Chief had smiled - same thing, really) when the dating game had come up with what's your favorite scary movie as a question, and a pair of tunes that combined into a rather nice song once they'd settled, and just how good it had all felt. He hasn't felt like that since-
Since Maine, mutual but brief, a long time ago. Since Connie, never reciprocated but nonetheless, even further back than that.
Oh.
Shit.
His eyes fly open in the dark. Oh, this is bad. This is not good. "DC," he whispers to the kitten curled up on his chest, "I think I fucked up."
DC, unworried about the state of anyone's romantic affairs, gives a quiet mrap and kneads Wash's chest for a few moments before falling asleep.
And Wash lies awake all night, steeping himself in the long process of denial, trying to remember how to forget.