Wash has been pretty good about things lately. She knows he's a natural worrier -- every Wash she's met is -- and that he cares, and that he's been putting effort into not getting in her hair lately. He's been giving her a whole lot of space since she came back from the clinic last month, more than she was really expecting, but she's grateful for it. York might be spending a lot of time determinedly not thinking about how slowly her face is healing, how much it still hurts, but she thinks this is what she needs.

So things have been okay, while York tries to get herself back to normal. Back to feeling normal instead of pretending like she does. It hasn't been easy, but knowing that Wash is giving her space and he's still there all the same, that makes it easier. Especially when every other customer is so keen on reminding her that her face is a wreck, right now. (Not always in a bad way, though. It is a krogan bar, after all.)

She's just come off a day shift, opted out of wearing armor to work for once because The Quad already gets warm enough inside, small as it is, and the AC's been on the fritz. So she comes home in civvies for once, heading straight for the kitchen for a drink of water. She gives Wash a slightly tired grin over the glass as she takes a long sip, leaning against the fridge.

"Hey," she says, pushing her hair from her face. "Sorry I was gone all day. Hopin' that's the last time I work a day shift around here. Daytime drunks are bad enough, but it's about a hundred times worse if they're krogan."