Oh, Wash. Connie doesn't bother with words as she reaches for his helmet, fingers unlocking the clasps there to gently pull it off of his head. His blush suggests he knows exactly her definition of 'staying in', but best she make sure they're on the same page. His helmet held to her chest with one arm, the other lifts to cup Wash's cheek as Connie leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Just you and me," she murmurs, her own cheeks growing rosy as she strokes her thumb across the edge of his jaw, "If you want to."