✖ AGENT WASHINGTON. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
articletwelve) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
outsiderslogs2013-05-24 03:03 pm
articletwelve) wrote in outsiderslogs2013-05-24 03:03 pm
Entry tags:
closed
who. wash and york [cr aus]
what. wash comes clean about his feelings. yes, those feelings.
where. their apartment.
when. backdated to 5/22.
warnings. wash being dumb. and feelings.
Wash still isn't sure when it happened. Maybe it wasn't even one particular moment. Maybe it was just the kind of thing that builds up naturally when you spend a year of your life with someone -- a weird year, a year that's taken you from one universe to another and home in between. And sure, he'd spent a lot of that year trying to untangle memory from reality, tear the thoughts of the Yorks he'd known from the one who'd stayed, until they weren't friends because they already had been, but because they'd had to build it up from the very start.
Maybe it was just inevitable. Maybe it just makes sense, considering where she comes from. The Wash of her universe had loved her, after all, and for all the alternates he's met of himself and the people he knows, Wash knows that there are similarities in all of them. Maybe his taste wasn't all that different across universes. Because she is everything he likes, beautiful and witty and brave and more than able to toss all his bullshit right back at him without blinking an eye, and she's so, so much more.
York's his best friend.
Which is why it's so hard to face this. To stop pushing all of these emotions back and acknowledge what he does feel for her. Because she's helped hold him together for the past year, and he can't imagine how he could have withstood it without her. He can't lose her. He can't.
But he can't keep this from her. It doesn't matter how good of a liar he is. He can't face her every day when they flop on the couch and watch dumb movies and pretend he doesn't feel this way. He can't do it. Not after everything they've been through.
York's been out most of the day. Enough time for Wash to convince himself about three times over that this was the worst idea, ever, of all time, and that he was going to do it anyway. Enough time for him to annoy the cat with his pacing. Enough time that even everything he'd tried to do to convince himself to give it up hadn't worked. He'd picked today because of what it meant, because of how long it had been, and if he doesn't do it today, he doesn't know if he's going to work up the nerve again.
Wash thanks whatever cosmic powers are out there that he's in his room when she gets home. Gives him enough time to collect himself, straighten his clothes. Try and look presentable.
God, if nothing else, he hopes they can still be friends.
He meets her out in the kitchen with a smile he hopes isn't too forced.
"Hey. Welcome back."
what. wash comes clean about his feelings. yes, those feelings.
where. their apartment.
when. backdated to 5/22.
warnings. wash being dumb. and feelings.
Wash still isn't sure when it happened. Maybe it wasn't even one particular moment. Maybe it was just the kind of thing that builds up naturally when you spend a year of your life with someone -- a weird year, a year that's taken you from one universe to another and home in between. And sure, he'd spent a lot of that year trying to untangle memory from reality, tear the thoughts of the Yorks he'd known from the one who'd stayed, until they weren't friends because they already had been, but because they'd had to build it up from the very start.
Maybe it was just inevitable. Maybe it just makes sense, considering where she comes from. The Wash of her universe had loved her, after all, and for all the alternates he's met of himself and the people he knows, Wash knows that there are similarities in all of them. Maybe his taste wasn't all that different across universes. Because she is everything he likes, beautiful and witty and brave and more than able to toss all his bullshit right back at him without blinking an eye, and she's so, so much more.
York's his best friend.
Which is why it's so hard to face this. To stop pushing all of these emotions back and acknowledge what he does feel for her. Because she's helped hold him together for the past year, and he can't imagine how he could have withstood it without her. He can't lose her. He can't.
But he can't keep this from her. It doesn't matter how good of a liar he is. He can't face her every day when they flop on the couch and watch dumb movies and pretend he doesn't feel this way. He can't do it. Not after everything they've been through.
York's been out most of the day. Enough time for Wash to convince himself about three times over that this was the worst idea, ever, of all time, and that he was going to do it anyway. Enough time for him to annoy the cat with his pacing. Enough time that even everything he'd tried to do to convince himself to give it up hadn't worked. He'd picked today because of what it meant, because of how long it had been, and if he doesn't do it today, he doesn't know if he's going to work up the nerve again.
Wash thanks whatever cosmic powers are out there that he's in his room when she gets home. Gives him enough time to collect himself, straighten his clothes. Try and look presentable.
God, if nothing else, he hopes they can still be friends.
He meets her out in the kitchen with a smile he hopes isn't too forced.
"Hey. Welcome back."
no subject
"Hey, you're the one who asked. You have to pick the date." She gives him a lopsided smile, still looking like she's a little nervewracked while relief still settles in, slow and steady. She doesn't have a hard time believing he's sincere. Maybe that's what makes it that much more difficult to navigate. It's not like she's looking to crush any hearts, here. She shifts her weight, resting her hip against the counter. "So..." She lets the word hang there, the what now? following only silently.
no subject
He's been just as afraid to voice the what now, the affirmation that this really happened, that there's something that's supposed to come next. That they've both acknowledged this, that they're going to move forward from it. They can't pretend this didn't happen. They can't turn back and erase it.
But this has gone okay so far. Maybe that means it'll stay that way.
He reaches for her other hand, curling his fingers around the side of hers, encouraging her to take his hand in return. "So," he says, "are we okay?"
no subject
"'Course we're okay," she says, her eyes dropping to his hand. He's got different hands from David, in a way. His are a little more weathered, and the way he touches her is different. She closes her fingers over his hand. "You think I'd say yes to a date with you if we weren't okay?"