“No, no, York, you really don’t-” Wash whispered hurriedly, falling silent as his friend already turned around and captured an unsuspecting passing-by woman.

“Hey,” York said, charming, friendly smile in place. The girl smiled back and York steered her around to the bar, saying “haaaaave you met Wash?”

She smiled, a bit confused but rolling with it as best she can, putting her drink down on the counter. In front of her was a man, good build, fairly attractive, and with half the confidence of his mysteriously vanishing friend.

“Um, hi. I’m Wash.”

A fourth the confidence of his friend. “Constance,” she said, extending her hand. He gave her a slightly odd look before shaking it.

“Of course it is,” he muttered, and then gestured for her to sit. “Sorry about my friend.”

“Yeah,” she said, and looked around. York seemed to be pretty good at vanishing in a crowd when needed. “You guys work together?”

“Something like that.” Wash turned so he would be facing his new slightly reluctant companion. “What do you do, Constance?”

“I’m a nurse,” she said, smiling because she said she’d go out and have a good time tonight, and that’s what she’s going to do.

“I could use some healing,” Wash said, and he tried raising his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, that was awful. Just. Pretend I didn’t say it.”

“Were you trying to use a line on me?” she asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” Wash teased, playing off the endearing feeling he was getting. “You come here often?”

She laughed, and he slapped a hand to his face at the realization of how cliche that one sounded, too. “Yeah, I live close by.”

Wash looked at her for a moment, a moment too long as she sat in the seat and sipped her drink. His eyes narrowed and he squinted at her for a moment before taking a deep breath in. “Look, Constance, right? I have to say, you’re wasting your time.”

“What?” she said, giving Wash the option to backpedal. She took another sip of her drink and started to look around to make sure her friends could see where she was.

“You’re very pretty. Kind of gorgeous, actually. But I’m kind of… well.”

She nodded as it all fell into place. “You’re with her.”

“Not really,” Wash said. “Not officially, not as far as she knows…”

Constance smiled, instantly more comfortable. “I get it. I do. What’s her name?”

“York,” Wash said, relieved. “I’m sorry.”

“You should tell your friend to stop trying to fix you up with people.” Constance got up, scooping up her drink and setting her sights on the other men at the bar. “Might remove awkward situations in the future.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wash said with a chuckle as she walked away. He had barely turned back to the bar when there was a tap on his shoulder.

“What’s up, why aren’t you on your way to getting laid right now?” York said, bluntly, depositing herself in the seat next to him.

“Not interested,” Wash mumbled into his beer.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” York said, ordering herself another round. “I could look around, get you someone else?”

“Nah,” Wash said, “how about we just drink?”

York smiled at this response, holding up her now-full beer mug for a toast. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a plan like that!”

ichidou replied to your post: South

welp there goes my heart

I can never imagine a scenario in which South is happy. Which is probably why I love her character so much.

I should write more of her, too. And 479er. And antagonistic space lesbians.

“Wash.”

“Hmmm?”

“Wash.”

“Shut up a minute, I’m workin’.”

“Wash!”

Wash sighed and looked over to York’s face, five inches from his own and whisper-yelling in his ear. “Fucking what?”

“Are you seriously trying to break into a tiger cage?” York’s eyes were having through focusing on Wash’s face of thought, and he was quietly swaying back and forth on his heels in an alcohol-induced temporary inner ear problem.

“I’m not,” Wash slurred proudly. “I’m trying to break into - into - I’m trying to free Calvin.”

“Who’s Calvin?”

“The tiger they’ve got locked up in this cage.”

York stared at his very drunk friend, frowning gracelessly through his own haze of alcohol. “Lemme try again. Are you failing to break into a fucking tiger’s cage which has a combination lock a child could pick apart?”

Wash looked from York’s face to the offending metal barrier in question and sighed tiredly. “Fine, Mr. Infal-infel-inter-inf… Mr. Lock Guy, you do it.”

York huffed in importance and knelt down next to the lock, listening to it as he turned the number dial before straightening up and frowning at his companion. “I’m not going to break into this cage so you can steal this tiger, Wash.”

“Libari-liberati-libetari… free. I’m going to free him, and his name is Calvin.”

“Why the fuck is he named Calvin?”

“So we can play Calvinball.” Wash pushed York’s shoulder out of the way and went back to twisting the numbers on the lock at random with no show of effort to actually make the item yield.

“You’re going to make him into a ball?” York said slowly, looking around at the dark abandoned zoo and slowly remembering that he was the one who broke the main lock and disabled the alarm on the door when they stumbled in half an hour ago.

“No, that’s not how you play Calvinball,” Wash dismissed, letting himself be pulled to his feet by his friend who is slowly remembering more and more of how much shit they’re going to get for this tomorrow morning.

“How do you play it, then,” York asked because sometimes, there were more pressing questions than unpleasant consequences.

“Well,” Wash said knowingly and with an unsteady finger pointed at York’s nose. “First, you need a Calvin.”

York stared at the man he was leaning on and holding up simultaneously, then scoffed through a smile. “Well, we’re not getting one tonight, buddy. We gotta go, Niner is picking us up tomorrow morning.”

“But my tiger…”

“There’s no room on the pelican, Wash. You know how Niner gets when we don’t follow her flight plan.”

Wash seemed to have sobered up for a moment as he remembered the last time Niner had yelled at him. It was two weeks ago. “There’s no way we’d be able to add a passenger to her roster without twenty-four hours notice.”

“Yep,” York encouraged, patting Wash on the chest, the biggest target he could reach.

“I’ll be back for you,” Wash told the sleeping predator, and let himself be led away from the breaking and entering crime scene.

ichidou replied to your post: wash and york pls and thank you

sweet jesus fucking christ i would pay good money for every last goddamn one of these i hate you

I kinda really wanna write the last one now. Calvin the tiger. Oh man.

But have I mentioned how much I love Wash and York being dicks to one another? Because I do.

ichidou replied to your post: Wash/CT, of course, and Maine.

oh motherfucker why is this meme giving me so many ieas

Isn’t that the point? :P

 alexiorsay replied to your post: Church?

They would have a great time bonding over how much they hate everyone around them.

YES. And it would be the bestest. And then they’ll share a can of motor oil and call it a night.

 completelysane replied to your post: Church?

“sage robotic romantic advice to impart on the whole Tex situation…” I’m giggling over here. And like your ideas of fleshing out the Blood Gulch crew. I don’t pay enough attention to them.

<3 Yes. I’d love to hear all the wisdom Lopez has about relationships. Given that his girlfriend is a tank. I bet he’s got some good nuggets of knowledge to impart…

Hey, so, I’ve only really had my ipod on me for the past few days, which makes answering asks and questions and reblogging a real pain in the ass. And instead of spamming you all with a bunch of ask posts and replies, I just put all of the lovely birthday wishes (and my heartfelt gratitude/lame attempt to be funny in response)

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ichidou replied to your post: “I am quite sure,” gasped Washington, “that this is against protocol.” The Director chuckled, goatee rasping against Washington’s bared throat; “You seem to have forgotten, Agent Washington, that I am the one who wrote the protocol.” A vibration against Washington’s back as Wyoming snaked an arm around and tweaked and nipple and murmured, “You really must lighten up old chap.”

i. what. is this. did i just read wash/director/wyoming. i. what. WHAT??????

YES.

This is what happens when you give people access to Skype.

THE CAUTIONARY TALE OF THE CENTURY.

ichidou replied to your post: there’s entirely too much not-depressing shit on…

Obviously you need to write deathfic.

…..you know not with what you tempt me.

ichidou replied to your post: RvB Drabble: The Devil in the Details

…ree how did you know i was writing carolina/director along these exact lines LMFAO

….whoa, seriously?

cnsdailfhjsadklhdjsalhfc I CAN’T WAIT TO READ IT OH MAN.

OH MAN.

Obviously I’m magic like that. The only logical conclusion.

(And now back to watching Community <3)

ichidou replied to your post: Hello lovelies! You know what I’m going to do…

Actually, Ree, do you want an AO3 invite? Tumblr’s lovely and all, but if you’re planning on making a fic archive, it might be easier to do it on a site built for it. Just a thought!

Oh, dude, YES PLEASE :D

I’ll organize BOTH.

Because apparently I’m Organization Gal.

(Yeah, I didn’t see that one coming either.)