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!
"Always knew you couldn't read the atmosphere." The kiss is better and he hooks an arm around Taylor's neck, clinging to him just a bit. "Maybe tomorrow you could scrub other parts."
"Tomorrow I will give you a full body massage when we get back, mm? How's that sound?" Seems like David needs it. He leans into the kiss, dragging his hands through his hair. "C'mon. We gotta be quick so we don't get seen."
"Oh god, how can I refuse an offer like that?" He lets the kiss linger as long as he can, and then presses another to his cheek. He reluctantly rolls out of bed and stretches. "Mmm, that would just add fuel to the fire."
Leaving a way back in after you crack a lock is prudent- and tradition. Keeping physical keys worked well in the past- bump key encpryptions are similar but things like this? Make a job so much easier if you know you'll be working the same building more than once. You set it up when you do recon, then when the actual job comes? You save that much more time and pain.
[ He does the same check for the alarm and security system, and it's still handled. Good. ]
The basic encryption I learned when I was a lad. The rest- came from an old partner.
"See the thing is, you're gonna get dressed before you run out, arne't you?" Taylor's not even grabbing shoes. Just his towel and body wash. "I'm not."
"Sounds like a personal problem rookie. Are you ready?" This. This is insane and crazy and just the right kind of bullshit to get them out of that weird, maudlin headspace he'd punted them into.
[ She goes still as she listens to his explanation, attention fixed on her HUD, on the data from Epsilon, on what he's saying and the cadence of how he's saying it - in spite of that accent, there's something to the lit, the choice of words (occasionally thrown by his substitution of other ones) that leave her baffled. It's the worst kind of déjà vu.
An old partner.
Could he have stolen this from York?]
...we're in. [no comment? No comment - for now.] Take the left, I'll handle the right. Work in from there.
It is not really a skill that Wash has had cause to perfect and fuck, that does kind of hurt. He arrives at the showers after York, glaring at the other man. "You are insane."
"I am crazy like a fox." He crackles a laugh, tugging David deeper into the showers before hitting the water. "Come on, show me where it hurts, I'll kiss it better."
It's infectious, York's laugh, and any offence is gone when he gets dragged into the showers. "I don't think i can get it up again even if you did kiss where it hurts."
[ He flicks off a salute and flips to the left, keeping to the established route he planned out while showing her the best entry and exit points He taps himself into her comm, though, so they can keep in touch. ]
Location one's a bust, but I did find a port. What do I need to do for your invisible friend?
"Oh come on, I thought you were a girl in every port kind of guy," Wash teases, even if he knows it isn't true. He'd been gone for Carolina after all. "Me either. Like I said, nothing since Casbah."
"WHen ports were safe, sure." They haven't been for- well. Years. Right now he just tugs David under the spray and works up a lather, scrubbing at his shoulders and back.
There's a moment of tension when Taylor begins to rub at his shoulders. There always is whenever anyone gets close to his neck and the port there. Can't help it. Too many bad memories. But he soon relaxes into it, and heaves a pleased chuff of a sigh.
"Easy, easy. It's just me." He knows that feeling. That instinctual tension that locks up whenever someone's near the port, whenever someone's on his left. But it's just them, here. No one else. No threats. No risks. Just them.
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