Mal-Wash.

[badinlatin]

Mal hasn't been up to the bridge almost all day today, but comes up now almost as one last item on his great To-Do list before climbing down a hatch to grab some clothing for bed.

The pilot's chair doesn't swivel toward him at the sound of Mal's footsteps, so with a calm question: "You awake?"

Comments

[flybywash]

Shift.

Snort.

Mildly grumpy, "I am now."

Wash, rubbing his eyes with two fingertips, spins the chair around partway -- flicking a few switches as he goes -- and holds back a yawn with partial success. "What's the news, cap'n?"

[badinlatin]

"Got a new vector for ya."

Mal hands Wash not a datapad, but a scrawled piece of paper, and briskly starts to make a retreat to the stairs away from the bridge.

[flybywash]

He's still rubbing his eyes as he squints down at the paper.

And then, all at once, he stops.

Wash blinks rapidly and rubs them again, just to make sure he didn't misread. (That'd be a very emphatic no.) He scratches a thumbnail over the coordinates and stares.

Wary, "Mal...?"

[badinlatin]

"Yes?"

[flybywash]

He holds up the paper between his index and middle finger, fixing him with a look.

Very, very quiet, "Does Zoe know about this?"

His tone's not accusing yet, but it's ready to slip into it a a split-second's notice.

[badinlatin]

A Look.

"Think I'd be doin' this if I weren't sure she wasn't about to come after me in my sleep?"

A moment passes, then more calmly, "I couldn't do this without her...blessing."

[flybywash]

Another second's pause; then Wash nods, backing down, and glances at the paper again, lips pressed together.

There's no name there -- just a string of numbers designating position in the quadrant. Coordinates sans name are the first thing you get quizzed on in beginning astrogation, though, over and over until you can rattle them off in your sleep.

These particular ones lead straight to Hera.

"You sure you wanna do it?"

[badinlatin]

Beat. "Yes."

The 'yes' comes off too strong to be entirely true. It does however make it sound like this trip is actually Mal's idea.

"I will be by the time I get there," he edits.

A drawing together of Mal's lips; not a smile but it lightens his face somewhat.

[flybywash]

"Hăo."

Wash quirks a smile in return, wry but genuine.

"It's your boat, I'm just the one flying it," he continues, and swivels back to begin entering the new coordinates into the nav. "You change your mind, let me know."

[badinlatin]

"Sounds like a plan."

Mal tosses a 'Xiexie' over his shoulder as he heads back down the corridor away from the bridge, almost smiling as he climbs down into his bunk.