Wash sat up with a start, trying to catch his breath. Where was-
A garden. A very familiar garden.
He couldn't be here now- Tucker and Caboose and the Reds were stuck on the Staff of Charon- they needed an extraction- he was on his way-
And then he'd had a glimpse of sunglasses, and that ugly sweater vest, and a "welcome back" without enough time to respond, and he was stuck in this city again, nowhere near where he needed to be-
And they'd still be there when he got back, at the exact same moment he'd left. He knew that. It'd be fine-
Though it sure was frustrating as hell. He snarled and slammed his fist on the ground, then yelped, shaking it out. Oh, right, he'd sliced that one open in a fit of Fuck Your Camouflage less than an hour ago.
He sighed and got to his feet. At least he felt better than he had last time he'd woken up on top of the spire.
Speaking of waking up on top of the spire - those were voices. That was...that was Peridot. And Greg. What the hell were they doing up here?
(He didn't want to consider the most obvious option. Not until it was confirmed.)
It didn't take him long to make his way over to them and walk into the best conversational opening he could have ever asked for. "Oh, yeah, farts can be deadly," he said nonchalantly. "You probably want to avoid those."
That was enough of that. "What are you two doing up here?" Never mind that he'd just spent months on Chorus; never mind that he had no idea how much time had passed here in his absence, if any; nope, he had questions. Might as well get them answered.
no subject
A garden. A very familiar garden.
He couldn't be here now- Tucker and Caboose and the Reds were stuck on the Staff of Charon- they needed an extraction- he was on his way-
And then he'd had a glimpse of sunglasses, and that ugly sweater vest, and a "welcome back" without enough time to respond, and he was stuck in this city again, nowhere near where he needed to be-
And they'd still be there when he got back, at the exact same moment he'd left. He knew that. It'd be fine-
Though it sure was frustrating as hell. He snarled and slammed his fist on the ground, then yelped, shaking it out. Oh, right, he'd sliced that one open in a fit of Fuck Your Camouflage less than an hour ago.
He sighed and got to his feet. At least he felt better than he had last time he'd woken up on top of the spire.
Speaking of waking up on top of the spire - those were voices. That was...that was Peridot. And Greg. What the hell were they doing up here?
(He didn't want to consider the most obvious option. Not until it was confirmed.)
It didn't take him long to make his way over to them and walk into the best conversational opening he could have ever asked for. "Oh, yeah, farts can be deadly," he said nonchalantly. "You probably want to avoid those."
That was enough of that. "What are you two doing up here?" Never mind that he'd just spent months on Chorus; never mind that he had no idea how much time had passed here in his absence, if any; nope, he had questions. Might as well get them answered.