Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything. PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, whichever Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with Tag and go, baby!
"Hey! Maine was just as bad. You just... couldn't tell most of the time because he was... Maine." It had taken a while before he could figure out the difference between normal Maine and Caffeine zombie Maine.
"Nope, you were the worst. You'd let me steal your fruit if you hadn't had coffee yet and mumble something about mittens needing milk." He assumed it was a cat.
"Wow you promise? You aren't allowed to tease me like that." He bumps his shoulder against York's. "Also seriously? You're trusting me with another living creature?"
"Yeah. I'm the luckiest bastard in the Shatterdome." He squeezes Malcolm's shoulder and slips out of bed, loose and fluid and easy. He won't be gone long, just needs to slip into the mess and sneak what he needs with a wink and a smile.
"You are absolutely not allowed to say the next line of that," Wash said, frowning at him. 'Hope to Die' just seems a bit too ominous considering, well, everything about their lives.
"What, hope to cry?" He deliberately avoided the 'die' bit, seeing as they've both had brushes that were way too close. "C'mon, we both know I cry pretty."
Wash snorts, shaking his head. He appreciates it nonetheless. Maybe it's dumb to be superstitious, but when you're a shoulder, every bit of hope and luck you can get is something you need.
"C'mon, eat up. I gotta get suited up and head out for another recon run before we head to the city tomorrow." He's pretty sure it's gonna be a milkrun but- he'd rather check everything over first before committing the kids to it.
"I'll come with you," Wash says, starting to eat more quickly. He feels weird and sluggish from having stayed in bed so long anyway. He needs to move, clear his head. "What're you hoping to find?"
"Some kinda library or a database that's been powered down in a library. That'll be connected to something larger in a bigger city and maybe if I can convince it to work and play nice we'll get a listing of all the military outposts and training bases set up during the war. That's a matter of public record. We take those and cross-reference with tactically advantageous areas and the duty roster I pulled up and see what fits. Then we'll know where they're likely working from and should be able to extrapolate what roads they use to get two and from, maybe fuck up their supply runs. You gotta feed an army if you wanna win a war, right?"
It's clever. Gotta give him that. How can one person throw such a spanner in the works, seriously? The look that Wash gives him is fond, affectionate. "Yeah. Gotta do that. It's a good plan. I've just been hitting up whatever outposts I came across. Harder to get enough stuff working alone."
"It's harder to plan large scale when you've only got one competent soldier." He shrugs and rests his cheek on Wash's hair. "We'll grab the most likely abandoned ones first. Give the kids time to get their legs under them."
"Get a better idea of what we're up against and maybe make trouble without having to make the kids actually kill anyone. I don't doubt that they could but...first time's always rough."
"Yeah. Yeah it is. And even if any of them were soldiers before this, they'd be fighting the Covenant, not humans. Makes a difference when your enemy is a giant space lizard."
"I'm coming." He nuzzles into the kiss, and climbs out of bed, stretching for a moment to work the dullness from his muscles. "You make it very hard to resist you, you know? Not surprised that all the kids are swooning over you."
"If it weren't for our tragic love affair, they would be. Most of the kids not in the squad have been trying and failing to hit on me." A beat. "Also if Palmomo asks you if I fucked you into a coma, you have my permission to hit him. I warned him."
"Why tragic? We both got laid." As far as things went, they were pretty successful for now. "How many hearts did you break?" It was kind of cute in a way. They needed someone to believe in. That could be a powerful reason to develop a crush.
"Cuz we thought each other was dead for yeaaaaaars and now we're in the romantic reunion honymoon stage. Apparently our week long spat was because one of us moved on in the interim or something. I dunno, kids have imagination." He shrugs and starts rolling the undersuit up his calves. "Yep. YOu're usually around throwing knives or talking to KImball. You were MIA, assumptions were made."
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