Tucker pulls the leftover eggnog from their Christmas dinner out of the fridge the next morning, forgetting how much alcohol they had put in it. Tucker/Carolina
“Tucker, babe, where are you?”
“In the kitchen!”
“What’re you doing in there? You’ve been in there forever.”
“Looking through the leftovers from last night.” The redhead winces at a crash, thankful there isn’t a shattering sound that accompanies it. “And drinking some of the eggnog.”
“Uuuuh.” The woman stands quickly, moving into the kitchen. “Tuuucker, how many glasses of the eggnog have you had? And why the fuck is there flour all over the place?”
“Well, I was looking through the leftovers, and I noticed all the cookies had been eaten, and so I was going to make more cookies, but I guess I forgot the bowl? Then I decided it was too hard and I was just going to deal with eggnog.”
“Okay… how many glasses have you had?”
“I dunno… two?” The dark-skinned man keeps his head buried in the fridge, apparently looking for something at the very back.
“Two? You’re sure about that?”
“Maaaaaybe five, why?”
“If you have to ask, you’ve had too much. You’re drunk, babe.” At those words he finally stands straight again, turning to look at his girlfriend.
“Wait are you- whoa, Lina, you look gooood.” He sways slightly, the redhead moving to catch him should he fall, slipping an arm around his back and guiding him toward the living room. “Did you get all dressed up for me?” Carolina actually laughs out loud at that, glancing down at her clothing before back to him.
“I’m wearing my pajama shorts and a tank top, I hardly think that classifies as ‘getting dressed up,’ though I do appreciate the compliment. Glad to know you think of me like this even when you’re drunk.”
“‘M not drunk. Eggnog might’ve had a little more alcohol in it than I thought, but five cups isn’t bad.”
“On an empty stomach?”
“Oh… maybe I am a little tipsy. But I’m not drunk, I can handle my alcohol. Seriously, though, I meant what I said; you look so good right now.” Planting his feet in the middle of the living room, he turns, wrapping his arms around Carolina’s waist, dropping a kiss to her neck.
“Tucker. I love you, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not opposed to sex this morning since Junior isn't here," she lowers her voice and grins, "and we could be as loud as we want-"
"Fuuuuck I love you Li-"
"But you're not sober, whether you'll admit it or not, and I'm not having sex with you while you're drunk."
"Fiiiine."
"Quit whining. Go back to bed, I'll bring you some water, and once you drink that you should sleep it off. If it's not time for us to go pick up Junior, and you still want sex, we'll have sex."
"I love you, Carolina."
"I love you, too. Now go to bed, I'll be there in a minute with water."
One-Shot a Day, Day 25: “You’d better have a good reason from waking me up at the crack dawn.”-RvB
Day 25: “You better have a good reason for waking me up at the crack of dawn”
I changed the prompt just a little, but it’s easy to tell.
Wash wakes Tucker so they can put presents under the tree. Tucker is not happy with being woken up.
“Mmm, Tucker, wake up,” the blond’s words are mumbled out as he slaps blindly at the alarm beside the bed.
“What time is it?”
“Zero-five-thirty. We have to-”
“You better have a good reason for waking me up at the asscrack dawn, fucker. I’m going back to sleep if you can’t give a valid answer in fifteen seconds.” The man rolls over, already burying his head back in his pillow.
“Language, Lavernius, neither of us have had our coffee yet. It’s Christmas morning and we didn’t put presents out last night because you wanted to get frisky. We can’t have Junior disappointed when he wakes up.”
“Fuck that is a good reason. Okay, I’ll get the coffee going, you get the presents. Make sure you remember Caboose’s for when he and Church come over.”
“Why am I putting presents out?”
“You’re quieter walking than I am, so you’re less likely to wake J going back and forth in front of his door. Plus I know how you like your coffee anyway, so it’s not like I’ll mess it up.”
“Good point,” the blond sighs deeply as he rises from the bed. “Let’s get to work, who knows when Junior will wake up.”
“Ugh. Fine.” The two pad quietly out of their bedroom, stepping carefully around the squeaky floorboard in the hallway, each carrying the first armful of boxes to the living room.
An hour later all the boxes are under the tree, each man has had a cup of coffee -Tucker’s mostly black and Wash’s filled with sugar and milk- and the two curled up on the couch, dozing in and out of consciousness despite the caffeine in their veins, readily awaiting Junior waking and their friend’s arriving.
Wash shamelessly wearing flannels to purposefully pick on Tucker.
"Oh my god, Wash, why are you wearing that flannel?"
"It's not cold enough to wear any of my sweaters, but I didn't feel like wearing my hoodie either. What's wrong with it?"
"You know I think you look weird in flannels, go change."
"Fine," Wash replies, turning to hide his grin as he walks back towards their bedroom.
"Thank you. J, are you ready?" He calls out, unsure as to exactly where his son is in the apartment.
"Yep, putting my shoes on, dad!"
"Is this any better, T?"
"Wash! Ugh, why are you fucking with me like this?"
"Cause you always fuck with me-"
"More like I always fuck you, bow chicka bow wow."
"So now I'm fucking with you." The blond steps closer, wrapping his arms around the shorter man. "I like flannels, Doc convinced Donut to let us have a casual dress Christmas party for once. You're not changing my mind, you can keep asking me to change, but I'm just going to keep coming out with different flannels; you know I have plenty."
"Fine. J, let's go!"
"I love you."
Yeah, sure you do." The dark-haired man rolls his eyes, as Wash presses a shirt kiss into his lips. "I love you, too."
At Wash and Carolina’s wedding reception, Sarge asks Dr. Grey to dance. Part two of two.
“As I was saying, the between alien and human artifacts remains, to this day, something that we are only beginning to uncover, particularly here on Chorus.” Sarge has to keep himself from laughing as he approaches the eccentric doctor, coughing lightly to get her attention as he observes the lieutenants’ bored and confused expressions. “Oh hello, Colonel, I think you might find this interesting. Did you know- oh, I’m sorry, you look like you want to ask me something.”
“Yes, actually.” The man runs his hand through his salt and pepper hair before scruffing his short beard. “Um, I was wondering if you wanted to dance with me?” He groans inwardly at sounding like a teenager asking their crush to prom.
“Oh! Of course, Colonel, I would love to! There are so few opportunities to, though I am thankful that they’re becoming more frequent.” Setting her drink down, she turns, looping her arm through the older man’s extended arm. “I must warn you, that despite my genius, I’ve always been rather clumsy when it comes to slow dancing, so if I step on your foot, I am sorry.”
“Don’t get your mind too worried about that, a little foot step isn’t anything.”
“My dear colonel, are you blushing?”
“No,” a cough, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t blush.”
“Okay, if you say so.” The pair step onto the area designated as the dance floor, grateful for the slow song that allows them to start by gently swaying back and forth.
“May I say that you look stunning tonight,” Sarge speaks quietly after a few minutes of their slow swaying, lips turning up slightly at the corners, glad that they’re close enough that she can’t see. Ever since the war had ended the two had been dancing around their feelings, and the long-time soldier was continuously unsure as to how to broach the subject with the doctor. “The color of your dress suits you.”
“Thank you. You clean up well yourself.”
“I must admit the suit took some getting used to, it’s been more years than I would care to admit since I’ve worn one.”
“I understand that. It took months to get used to wearing scrubs again instead of armor." There's a pause as the two continue to sway to the music, the doctor -made tall by the black heels she's wearing- laying her head on the former soldier's shoulder. "But enough talk about that, this is a happy day!" She exclaims softly, Sarge grunting in agreement. "It's good to see people healing, both physically and mentally. It wouldn't surprise me if Jensen and Palomo don't get engaged soon; they might be young, but they're right for each other, and I think they know it."
It’s Wash and Carolina’s wedding day. It’s nothing big, just the reds, blues, and some of the Chorusians, but it’s all they need. Part one of two.
Set in an AU where the reds, blues, and Carolina get to retire and stay retired. Events of seasons 15-17 don’t happen.
“Nervous?”
“A little. But honestly more about falling down the aisle instead of walking,” Carolina chuckles, a small smile gracing her face. “Thank you for being my bridesmaid, Vanessa, you look gorgeous.”
“Thank you, you’re a stunning bride and a good person. Washington is a lucky man to have you.”
“I’m lucky to have him.”
“Are you ready?” The voice that asks the question is deeper than the previous one, making the redhead exhale loudly, straighten her shoulders and turn.
“Yeah. Thank you, Sarge, for walking me down the aisle. I never understood why it was a big thing until Wash and I were planning and it felt wrong to not have somebody there.”
“It’s my pleasure, Carolina. It’s time to get in there.”
“Bow chicka bow wow,” Tucker grins.
“Why Wash chose you to be his groomsman, I’ll never know.”
“C’mon, Tucker. It’s time for us to lead the way for the bride.” Kimball steps forward to where they had practiced the night before, Tucker holding his arm out for her to take, Carolina waiting just out of sight.
The doors open and the two start down the aisle in step, both smiling brightly. The doors close again, Carolina and Sarge stepping up, the redhead taking the older man’s arm. The music changes and she takes a deep breath. She has no second thoughts about who she’s marrying, just lots of thoughts and what-ifs running through her head. She shakes them clear as the doors open again, watching Wash’s face as she takes her first step.
By the time she reaches the end of the aisle, the blond has a single tear track streaking his right cheek, his smile watery. “You better take good care of her, though it’s not me you need to worry about kicking your ass if you do something wrong.” The older man smirks at the former freelancer as they reach him.
“Do you, Sarge, freely give Carolina Church to David Washington in marriage?”
“I do.” With those words, Carolina hands her small bouquet to Kimball, clasping her hands with Wash’s.
“You look amazing, Carolina,” he whispers out, chocking at the words slightly. The ceremony passes in a blur to each of them, their focus on only each other and Doc officiating.
They move into the room they’ve chosen for the reception, Carolina opting to keep her wedding dress on as it’s a relatively simple, knee-length dress that won’t inhibit her. They have Donut keeping music playing on an ancient stereo system with blank CDs they’d managed to find and rip music of their choice onto.
Standing to the side, arms slung around the other’s waists they observe their friends; Doc and Donut standing close to the D.J. ‘booth’ while the former drops a kiss onto the pink suit-clad man’s head, Simmons managing to finally dragging Grif onto the dance floor, and Sarge looking unusually sophisticated while dancing slowly with the resident genius who -for once- isn’t chattering incessantly about something medical or alien. Turning a little more, Wash spots Tucker and Kai somehow managing to make grinding to a slow song look reasonable, Jensen and Palomo awkwardly circling the floor.
“I love you,” the blond’s voice breaks the silence between them, causing her to smile at him.
“I love you, too. I never thought I’d be here, especially after so many years.”
“I agree, but I’m glad I am.”
“Me too,” she pauses a beat, “they all seem happy.”
“Yeah, they do. So am I.”
“I agree. Let’s dance again while we have the opportunity, shall we?”
Day 21: Reunion. Spoilers for the end of season 12. The reds, blues, Carolina, and Wash are finally allowed to see Tucker after he’s stabbed by Felix at the end of season 12.
“Dr. is he going to be okay?”
“Captain Tucker should recover just fine given time.”
“Yay, Tucker will be fine!” Caboose cheers, pausing slightly before continuing, “wait… Tucker will be fine.”
“Shut up, Caboose, we all hate him as much as you do.”
“Grif!”
“Everyone shut up!” The room goes silent at Wash’s raised voice, Carolina tilting her head slightly, the blond knowing she’s smirking underneath her helmet. “Thank you. Dr. Grey,” the former freelancer turns to the genius, “when can we see him?”
“He’s still out, but he’s stable enough for you all to go sit in his room, quietly. And I must stress quietly; captain Tucker needs his rest, and if I hear one noise complaint I will kick you all out of the hospital until you learn to control yourselves. Now! You’re all welcome to cram into his room if you wish, we gave him one of our few private rooms for discretion purposes. Just down the hallway on the right, room 23.”
“Thank you, doctor.” Carolina steps off, Wash a fraction of a second behind her.
“Before we go in; if any of you even start to get loud, so help me, I will kick you out before Grey has the chance to, is that understood?”
“Damn, Wash, what got your panties in a twist?”
“Grif!”
“Fine, I’ll shut up.”
“Thank you.” The group crams into the room, shoving themselves into every available open space, though both Sarge and Simmons leave not long later, having put eyes on the aqua soldier, being reassured that he’s alive, Caboose and Grif leaving less than ten minutes after that, leaving the former freelancers alone briefly, until the lieutenants -along with a few privates that had been under their command- all stumble in to see their leader, though none stayed long under the ‘terrifying’ gaze of Agent Carolina.
A comfortable, though somewhat tense, silence stretched between the two as they watched the man on the bed before them as he breathed evenly. “Carolina,” the blond’s voice is scratchy when he finally breaks the silence, “you don’t have to-”
“I know. I want to, though; I know what it’s like to stay by somebody’s bedside for hours and hours, maybe even days, by yourself. It’s no fun at all.”
“Thank you. But what I said still stands; you don’t have to stay here all the time with me.”
“I am getting hungry, would you like me to bring food?”
“Something to snack on, please? I’m not sure my stomach can handle much of the normal rations yet.”
“Okay, I’ll try not to be too long.” The redhead stands, grabbing her helmet from the floor beside her chair and pulling it on again. “Dr. Grey said he should wake soon, hang in there, Wash. I’ll be back soon as I can.”
“Thank you.” He lets his eyes follow his teammate out the door, sighing as he turns his attention back to the man in front of him. “Dr. Grey said you should be awake by now, I know the rest is good for you to recover, but the longer you stay under the more I worry,” he sighs again, moving a hand from his knee, removing his glove before placing his pale hand on his friend’s dark one.
“I don’t mean to intrude- oh goodness, I’m sorry for scaring you.”
“It’s okay, Dr. Grey.” He pulls his hand back hastily, glancing at the doctor and then back at where his hand had been previously.
“You don’t have to move your hand, I won’t say anything to anyone. But what I was going to say is that even though I imagined he’d be awake by now, if it’s any consolation, I’m not concerned that he’s not.” She steps into the room further, dropping a hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Wake up time varies, especially in a case as traumatic as this. If he’s not at least showing signs of waking by this time tomorrow, then I’d be starting to worry, but for now, I think it’s safe to say everything is fine and his body is just deciding he needs more time dedicated solely to healing.”
“Thank you, that does make me feel better… if only slightly.”
“I just need to check a few things, then I’ll be out of your way. I am changing his dressing, though, so you’re welcome to step outside if that’s going to bother you.”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure.” The doctor checks a few machines, noting down multiple things on her data-pad, before pulling back the thin sheet and blanket and moving aside the gown he was put in post-op.
“Oh, god.”
“Are you okay, agent Washington?”
“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. I don’t know what I expected, but that was not it. I’m fine, though, I’ve seen worse. A lot worse.”
After the doctor is done, she leaves him alone again to his thoughts, knowing that Carolina is still a while out with the food as she got called to a meeting with Kimball and Doyle. “Tucker you idiot. I told you not to put yourself in unnecessary danger.”
“Mmmm?” The man on the bed groans, nose crinkling, as his fingers tighten around Wash’s.
“Tucker, shhh, you’re alright, you’re safe now. Don’t move too much, you don’t want to rip out the stitches.”
“Stitches?” The question is sluggish as he squints his eyes open, closing them again. “Fuck, why’s is so bright?”
“You’re in the hospital, it’s bright because I didn’t bother to turn the lights down after Dr. Grey checked your vitals and incision a while ago.”
“Incision?”
“Yeah, they had to cut you open more than Felix did to make sure none of your organs were punctured.”
“Felix. Yeah, that’s right. How bad is it?”
“You’ll be down and out for a while. He got you pretty good, you’ve got ten stitches, but Dr. Grey said you’re doing fine. I should probably let her know you’re awake.”
“No, wait. Not yet. I don’t think my head can manage her cheeriness right now.”
“Okay, we’ll wait a while longer. I, um, I’m glad you’re awake.”
“Were you worried about me, Wash?”
“Of course I was.”
“Have the holidays turned you sappy, Wash?” The man in the bed finally manages to open his eyes, dark brown staring back into blue.
“What?”
“Dude, it’s Christmas eve.”
“Really?” The blond questions, incredulous. “There’s no way it’s that late in the year already.”
“Check the date.”
“How have I not noticed this.”
“Wouldn’t be that difficult for you to not really think of the days.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
“Did you just admit I’m right about something? Who are you and what have you done with agent Washington?”
“Shut up, you prick.” Washington curses himself on the inside as tears form behind his eyes, despite his words seeming as though he’s unhappy with the man lying in the bed.
“Wash, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know what yo-”
“For once in your life, stop being dramatic.”
“I… fuck, Tucker,” the man pauses, “I thought I was going to lose you. I saw the footage from the other’s helmet cams while you were in surgery. There was so much blood, and you were just there, bleeding, helpless.”
“I’m the one in the hospital bed, I should be crying.”
“Fuck you.”
“No thanks, I’m lying in a hospital bed, critically wounded.” Tucker shifts, wincing slightly, but content and as pain-free as to be expected once he settles in his new position, slightly reclined so he’s not totally flat. Patting the bed beside him where he’s now made room he speaks again,
“come ‘ere, Wash.”
“No, I don’t want to-”
“The incision is on the other side, we’ll be fine.”
“I’m not sure it’s entirely appropriate.”
“Wash…” Tucker lets out a long sigh, eyes closing and opening slowly again. “I know we have a lot of… um, tension. A lot of things to work out between us. But for once can you just do something without thinking about the consequences? It’s not like I’m asking for something earth-shattering, I’m asking you to sit or lay in bed next to me to reassure you that I’m alive.”
“Okay.” Wash stands, pulling off the last few pieces of armor to leave himself in his undersuit before climbing slowly and carefully into the bed, Tucker throwing his arm out so that it’s under his neck. “Tucker, I-”
“Shh, not now. Just lie here.”
“Okay.” the two stay there, quiet, the blond eventually turning to gently throw his arm over the other’s chest, tucking his head into the other’s next, each man eventually falling asleep in their own time.
That’s how Carolina finds them an hour later, dropping the peanut butter and crackers on the small side table, along with the banana that she brought for the other former freelancer, smiling at the two, glad they finally seemed to have worked out whatever was going on between them.
Day 20: Apricity, The Warmth of the Sun in Winter.Set post-Chorus. Wash and Carolina go for their usual run one winter morning and enjoy the sunrise afterward.
Iris’s winters aren’t particularly cold -which suited the reds and blues just fine- but most days were chilly, and a few were downright cold. No matter the temperature, though, Carolina and Wash always ran in the mornings unless it was downpouring, and today was an in-between chilly and cold day.
Leaning against a tree close to the base, the pair smiles, breathing heavily. “Good run.”
“You too, boss.” The two stand, shoulder to shoulder watching the sun rise up over the cliff.
Fifteen minutes later the two are seated under the tree, sun shining over the peak and bathing them in light. “Feels good, y’know? Feeling the sun again,” the redhead’s voice is soft as she speaks, almost as if she’s afraid to say it, though, when Wash thinks about it, she probably is. They spent years in the Project, unable to ask for anything. Ask for it, the chances of getting it become next to nothing, so you learned to deal with what you had. Only ask for the things you know they would deem absolutely necessary or things that could at least seem like it would help you further the Project’s cause. So you don’t ask, you don’t even mention it to your friends because you never knew if they were listening or not.
“Yeah,” her companion’s voice startles her out of her thoughts, “I’m pretty sure at one point I had gone close to two years without going outside in civvies. Wow, that sounds even worse when I say it out loud.” There’s a pause as he runs a hand through his blond hair, finally growing out of regulation cut. “It does feel good, though. Especially with the cooler temperatures; it’s… warming.”
Day 19: Gingerbread. Tucker and Junior build a gingerbread house.
“Hey Junior, come on out here and we’ll build the gingerbread house!”
“Okay, dad, I’m coming!” Tucker smiles easily as he hears his son run down the hallway.
“You got the big one for us to make?”
“Yeah, buddy. I know this year has been a bit crazy, so I figured the big one would be pretty awesome for us.”
“Thanks, dad.” The seven-year-old -a copy of his father with the exception of the chubby cheeks he got from his mom- smiles brightly, lighting up the room. “Should we wait for Wash to get home?”
“Nah, he said we could put it together if we wanted.”
“Okay, let’s start!” The father and son pull the gingerbread pieces from the box and start assembling the sides, laughing as they get the icing everywhere.
“Boys, I’m home!”
“In the kitchen, Wash!”
“What’s all the ruckus in here?”
“We’re putting together the gingerbread house, come help!”
"Alright, buddy, let me go change and then I'll be in. You two keep working on it, okay?"
"Okay."
Five minutes later the blond enters the room again, sweatpants and an old t-shirt having replaced his khakis and button-up, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend's waist and resting his chin on his shoulders, smiling as he jumps slightly. "How was work?"
"Good. Last day until after New Year's, so I belong to the two of you, now," Wash grins at Tucker, rolling his eyes when the darker-skinned man wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Did you enjoy your day together?"
"Ew, dad, Papa Wash, stop flirting with each other, we're supposed to be decorating."
"Alright, alright. What would you like me to do?" Wash questions the boy, following each direction given to him. The three spend the next thirty minutes decorating the gingerbread house until it looks like a winter wonderland, smiling and laughing. Afterward, Tucker makes homemade hot cocoa, the trio piling onto the small couch to watch Elf, all waking up groggy and sore the next morning, laughing at the gingerbread house that had fallen apart overnight.
Day 18: Pretend BF/GF. Wash stays on Chorus after the war to help with the recovery efforts, though he still stays in close contact with the others on the moon. During that time, he and Kimball become close, though only friends. The Reds, Blues, and Carolina all know he has somebody close in his life, and they think it’s a girlfriend, so when they invite him to their monthly dinner together, they suggest he bring her.
“Everything’s still good for you to come out to dinner on the twenty-eighth, right?” Wash smiles at how excited Tucker is to see him in person. He never thought he would admit to it, but he misses the former aqua-colored soldier as well.
“Yep, I’ll be there. I’m looking forward to seeing you all again. Four weeks really can seem like a lifetime.”
“You know there’s always room for you here if you want to come, Wash.” The blond smiles again as Carolina speaks. It had been hard for her to separate from him, and he had asked her to stay, but she refused, telling him it was time she stepped away from being a soldier. The first six months apart she had skyped him every night, needing to see him for reassurance.
“I know, thanks, Carolina, I might come for a weekend sometime, but I’m doing a lot of good here.”
“Oh! Wash, before we forget! When you come next week, bring your girlfriend with you!”
“My girlfriend?” Without his consent, his cheeks immediately start turning red at the pink-clad man, and he internally curses his pale skin for what must be the billionth time in his life. “I don’t-”
“Oh come on, Wash, you’re always hanging out with this mysterious female friend of yours, there has to be something going on. We want to meet her!”
“Tucker, I don-”
“Nope, no excuses. See you next week!” Donut hits the ‘end call’ button, leaving Wash to gently drop his forehead against the table in front of him in the abandoned mess hall, an exasperated groan leaving his mouth.
“That doesn’t sound good,” the female voice laughs out gently, causing Wash to startle slightly and raise his head. “Want to talk?”
"I'm going to Iris next Thursday for monthly dinner with the gang, and somehow they've all gotten it in their heads that I have a girlfriend," he pauses for a beat, "and that I need to bring her with me."
"But you don't have a girlfriend."
"But I don't have a girlfriend," he sighs, "they claim I have a girlfriend cause of this 'mysterious female friend' I'm always doing things with, and I know I've mentioned your name before, but I guess they don't think it's you? And I guess they don't listen to the fact that most of what I tell them we're doing is rebuilding efforts and they haven't put two and two together? I don't know, but now I'm stuck in this predicament."
"I'll go with you." The dark-haired woman finally takes a seat next to the blond, placing her hands on the table in front of them.
"Kimball, I can't ask you to do that."
"You don't have to, I'm offering. I could use the break, and it would be good to see them again."
"You know it means either us pretending to be in a relationship the whole time or an awkward explanation as to why you're with me but how we're not together." Wash's blue eyes light up with the prospect, and the former general can see the excitement he's trying to conceal.
"I think it would be fun to play with them a bit, don't you? Let them think they were right and then tell them after we get home." Her dark eyes twinkle with mischief, smirk donning her lips.
“You’re an evil woman Vanessa Kimball, and I absolutely love that idea. You’ll come as my plus one, we’ll spend the evening pretending we’re together, and then the next day when we have our weekly skype session, I’ll tell them it was fake,” the blond laughs, looking forward to getting back at his friends for some of the ridiculous pranks they’ve pulled on him over the years.
“We should even come up with cute nicknames for each other,” she laughs out.
“Oh, they’re going to flip when you step off that pelican next to me, babe.” Wash grins, shying away playfully as she smacks his shoulder lightly.
“Do not call me that.”
“Love? Darling? My dearest?”
“Have you ever been in a relationship, Washington?”
“Once or twice. Though never with somebody as formidable as you,” the blond replies, a sincere smile taking the place of the joking one from the moments previous, a few butterflies in his stomach at the thought of having her as a girlfriend, something that had been happening more and more frequently the more they spent time together. ‘No, Washington, this is only fake to pull a prank on your friends. None of this will be real.’
“Thank you, I appreciate that. How about you just stick to calling me ‘Nessa. I haven’t let anybody call me that in a long time.” Wash can see the vulnerability in her eyes even as she tried desperately to hide it, smiling inwardly at the closeness of their bond, glad to have a friend that he can confide in and that they will confide in him. “I’m going to try to get some sleep,” she continues, Wash barely catching the words through his train of thought. as she rises, patting his shoulder before taking a few steps, pausing, turning slightly back towards him and finishing her sentence, “you should do the same, honey.” She smiles wickedly as she turns and dashes from the room before he can react, leaving him laughing as her footsteps retreat down the hallway.
Six days later, the two board their pelican in casual dress, Wash in jeans and an old hoodie that had somehow managed to stay with him since freelancer, and Kimball in slacks and a blouse having come straight from work to the hanger. “Buckled?” The dark-haired woman asks.
“Yep, ready to go.”
“Hanger two command, this is pelican five requesting clearance for flight to Iris.” Wash had been shocked when he found out Vanessa was a pilot, though he really shouldn’t have been, but that was going to make the flight there and back more enjoyable. No nosey pilot to hear them practicing at being a couple and spreading rumors. There was nothing odd about her deciding things were stable enough to go see the group that helped save their planet, there would definitely have been talk, though, if a pilot had heard them calling each other pet names.
“Pelican five, this is hanger two command you are clear for takeoff, have a nice flight.”
“Thank you, hanger two, pelican five out.”
“AGENT WASHINGTON IS HERE!” The pretend couple hears Caboose’s voice through the closed pelican door, rolling their eyes at the formerly regulation blue soldier’s words, knowing that the others will be emerging from the base momentarily.
“You ready for this? There’s still time for you to go hide in the cockpit and me to tell them the truth right now.” The blond looks at his companion earnestly, truly wanting her to be comfortable with what they’re about to do.
“I’m ready.” She reaches out and hits the ‘door open’ button with her left hand, allowing her right to slide into his left, entwining their fingers together, smirk settling on her lips.
“What. The. Fuck. Wash. You’re dating Kimball and you didn’t tell us?” Wash recoils as Tucker’s voice rises in pitch, grimacing at the volume and intensity of it. “Why the fuck would you keep something like this from us?”
“To be fair, nobody on Chorus knows either, for one. And two, with as much as I mention us going to work on rebuilding plans and political structure, you should’ve put two and two together,” he replies, letting go of Kimball’s hand to give Carolina a hug as she approaches him.
“She’s a keeper,” she whispers in his ear, a faint blush trying to make its way up his neck at her words.
“Thanks, boss. She is pretty great.”
After some idle chatter, mostly the reds and blues asking them about their relationship -and them replying with pre-thought of responses based on what Wash thought they would ask- Simmons announces dinner, a ‘finally’ being uttered by Grif, and they all shuffle into the kitchen.
"So, how long have the two of you been a thing?" Wash blushes slightly at Carolina's words.
"Not long, couple of months is all," comes Kimball's response.
'She is so much better at this than I am.' To say that Washington feels out of his league is an understatement; he feels like he's drowning, though hopefully, he doesn't show it. He can get away with faking it to the reds and blues -except maybe Tucker- but fucking with Carolina is a different matter entirely. "It's felt like a lot a lot longer, though," the blond adds, turning to flash a smile at his 'girlfriend,' visibly squeezing her hand twice with his where they rest on the table in view of all their friends.
"Well gosh, y'all, I'm so happy for you!"
“Thanks, Donut, we’re happy, and just waiting for the right time to come out publicly with it. You know, there are still some people who are on edge, waiting for another civil war to break out, and this would throw a wrench in their faith in ‘Nessa, so we’re keeping it down-low for now.”
“That seems reasonable. Kimball, I’d like to talk to you about some of the rebuilding efforts, want to go somewhere a little quieter?”
“Of course.” The tan-skinned woman stands, Carolina standing across from her, and she leans down, dropping a kiss on Wash’s temple. “Enjoy your time catching up with Kai and the boys, love.”
“Dude,” Tucker speaks once the two females have left the room, “how could you not tell me you a Kimball were a thing?”
“Tucker, you have to understand-”
“Yeah, I understand you’re boning the president of Chorus! One of the most badass fucking people ever, and you didn’t tell your best friend!” Wash can tell that Tucker isn’t really hurt, more just disappointed, and hides his laughter easily, thankful for the years of practice.
“You have to understand that it’s been something we just wanted between us for a while,” Wash desperately wishes the words he’s speaking were true, having grown fonder and fonder of the newly elected president in their months spent rebuilding and reshaping Chorus’ future. “Nobody knew until now.”
“I’m impressed, Wash, never thought you could hide something like this,” that’s Grif finally speaking up, having decided he had stuffed his face enough for the moment -give him about half an hour and he’d have a snack in his hand, Wash knew. “Figured this would be something you couldn’t keep quiet.”
“It’s surprisingly not that difficult.”
In the other room
“I did want to talk to you about a few things, but first let me tell you that if you ever purposefully hurt David, you will answer to me.”
“Carolina, I-”
“I mean it. He doesn’t need his head or his heart played with any more than it already has been.”
“I have no intention of hurting him; he’s become quite dear to me, and I don’t want that to change.”
“Good. If you ever need help figuring out something about him, give me a call. I don’t know how much about his past he’s told you, but he sometimes has… issues. Mornings, in particular, can be hard for him.”
“Thank you.”
Forty minutes later, the group is curled up in the large living room, having convinced the pair to stay for a movie despite the fact that it means they are now cuddled, almost on top of each other, on the couch, Wash’s arms wrapped around Kimball’s waist.
They decide on the old earth-favorite, Star Wars Episode Four: A New Hope, all making comments throughout the film, causing Kimball to roll her eyes as she tries to concentrate as the only one that’s never seen it before. “We’ll watch it again sometime so you can actually focus if you’d like, ‘Nessa?” Wash whispers in her ear, silently pleased as he feels goosebumps erupt on her arms, plopping a small kiss on her neck, something they had deemed would be acceptable in certain circumstances to further convince the others of their relationship, smiling back at her as she smiles up at him, nodding her agreement.
By the end of the movie, Kimball is asleep, Wash loathe to wake her, but unwilling to stay the night, “‘Nessa, time to head back to Chorus.”
“Hmm? Oh, is the movie over? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go to sleep.”
“You two go get some rest. Kimball, you’re welcome to come anytime Wash does,” the redhead stands, hugging her former partner and shaking hands with the president, the others rising to say goodbye as well.
“Wash, principle Kimball, do you have to go?”
“Yeah, Caboose, we have to get back. We have lots of things to do tomorrow.”
“Oh. Are you making things better for everyone?”
“Yep, we’re working hard to do that.”
“I guess that’s okay then. Tell Smith I said hi.”
“We will.”
Chorus, Hanger Bay Two
“You know, I had fun. It was good to see them again.” The relatively short pelican trip back to Chorus had been quiet, both absorbed in their thoughts.
“Did Lina interrogate you?”
“Yeah,” she laughs, “yeah, she did. But in all honesty, I did have a lot of fun.”
“So did I,” and there’s the blush again, Wash grateful that they are now in an abandoned hallway. “And, um,” he laughs, stumbling over his words, “you’re a good girlfriend.”
“You’re not too bad yourself, honey.” The pair laugh, shoulders bumping into each other as they make their way towards her room. “I wonder what they’re going to say when they find out it was fake.”
“Yeah…”
“You okay?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah I’m fine.”
“What’s going on Washington? You had that tone of voice you always get when I know you’re thinking too hard.”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about what you said. About their reactions.”
“Want to share?”
“What if…” he takes a deep breath as they come to stop in front of her door. “What if it wasn’t fake? I enjoyed getting to be your boyfriend for the evening, and I’ve had feelings stronger than friendship for a while now. If you don’t have the sa-”
“I’m going to stop you right there.”
“Of course, I understand,” the dark-haired woman nearly flinches at the hurt evident in his eyes despite the measures taken to hide it, “goodnight President Kimball.”
“You didn’t let me finish.” She steps forward, grabbing his wrist gently to keep him from moving any further away. “I’m a forward woman, have been my whole life, and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed myself like I did tonight in a long time. I like you a lot, David. You’re the closest friend I’ve had in a long time, and I would enjoy exploring our feelings together.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Cause honestly, after having done this, I’m not sure how I could keep from doing it again.” Wash cups the shorter woman’s face in his hands, gently pulling her up to meet his lips in a firm yet gentle kiss.
“You know, I believe I slept the best I have in a long time during the movie tonight; it was rather nice feeling secure in somebody else’s arms. Would you like to stay with me?”
“Only if you’re absolutely sure.”
“I’m very sure.”
“Then I accept.” He smiles, kissing her again as she meets him in the middle this time, blindly punching her key code into the pad and opening the door.
“Goodnight, ‘Nessa,” the blond whispers into her ear fifteen minutes later, one arm draped over her waist, the other tucked under her neck, legs tangled together.
I had to take a temporary hiatus from my daily one-shots due to some general life craziness, but I’m caught up with writing them now, so be prepared for an onslaught of fics!
Day 17: Marshmallows. Simmons comes home from work to find Grif making cocoa, Grif has other ideas.
“Fuck, it’s cold out there.” The tall man pulls off three layers of jackets, shivering slightly.
“Well lucky for you, I already have milk heating up for cocoa.”
“You’re making something that requires more than the microwave.”
“Hey, asshole, there are a few food items worth the time, homemade cocoa is one of them. We were hardly ever cold enough to make it at home, but ever since I moved away I’ve loved it. Should be ready in maybe ten minutes, go change into something comfy.”
Five minutes later Simmons walks back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants and a cheesy pullover sweater that the other man had given him a few Christmases ago having replaced his khakis and button-up. “How was work today?”
“Eh, it’s close to Christmas so there are more assholes than normal, but nothing too bad. Come ‘ere.” Grif turns from the stove, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, pulling him close to kiss at his neck gently.
“Griiiiif, stop. I have papers I need to grade.”
“I bet you’d be in a better mood to grade after some sex. You’re always in a better mood after a post-sex nap,” the shorter man replies, placing his mouth on a spot he knows will drive his boyfriend insane, causing the red-head to whine softly.
“Dex,” he breathes out, threading his fingers through the dark hair of the other.
“Yes?” The dark-skinned man pulls back, shit-eating grin on his face, dark eyes bright with mischief, turning the stove burner off, hand sliding under Simmons’ sweater.
“Screw, grading papers, I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day anyway.”
An hour and a half later Grif carries two mugs into the living room, a bag of marshmallows under his left arm. “Do you want marshmallows in your cocoa?”
Day 16: Decorating. Doc and Donut decorate their house for the holidays but get distracted.
“You okay up there? Do you need any help?”
“I’m alright, be down in a second, Franklin!” The former medic calls down from the attic, shuffling some more boxes around before finding the right ones, grabbing the first one and making his way back to the stairwell as he hears Donut bring in another bag from the car.
Fifteen minutes later, once all the groceries are put away and the decorations downstairs, the two set to work. “Let’s get the big tree set up in here first.”
“And this year we’re doing red, green, and gold garland on it. That blue last year was just atrocious!” The pink-clad man speaks, rolling his eyes.
“Of course. Do you want Thai noodles tonight or lentil and sweet potato curry?”
“Let’s do the curry tonight and Thai noodles tomorrow. Doc, thank you for doing the cooking so much, you always do such a good job.”
“Aw, thank you, honey.” The former medic leans over slightly, dropping a kiss on the top of his fiance’s head before turning to grab the tree box for their tall living room tree. “Gonna help me?” He smirks, getting the other’s attention.
Once the tree is up, Donut goes to the kitchen, intending on fetching them each a glass of water while Doc searches for the right garland box, grabbing a strand of gold he walks into the kitchen, wrapping it around the other’s torso. “Gotcha!”
“Doc, what are you doing? You know we planned to decorate tonight!”
“Yeah, but you just look so good in your pink -sorry, lightish-red- sweater!”
“I bet I’d look better without it on,” Donut replies, managing to turn in his garland embrace, kissing his fiance.
“I thought you said we were decorating,” the purple-clad man murmurs in between kisses, “not that I’m complaining.”
“Good, because now I’m distracted by thinking about all the ways I can decorate you.” Donut snakes his hands out from the garland, grabbing his fiance, pulling him closer, and kissing him deeply as they make their way to their bedroom.
Day 15: Sick. Continuation from day 14. Carolina suffers from morning sickness. It might not make for the best holiday season, but as long as Wash is by her side, she’s happy.
“Thank you, Wash.” Carolina reaches out, gratefully accepting the offered glass of ginger ale.
“How are you feeling?”
“Eh, okay. My stomach feels like it’s starting to settle down on its own, but we both know how that’s gone before,” she replies, grimacing at the thought of her stomach churning again, taking a small sip to try and calm it.”
“This is supposed to go away after the first trimester, right?”
“Yeah, approximately. Hopefully only a few more weeks of this.”
“Shit, I hope so. I can’t stand seeing you like this.”
“It’s going to be so worth it, though. Did you look at any of those car seat sets I sent you while you were on lunch?”
“I did, I think for us either the first or the third will work best for us.”
“I agree. I can’t believe that in a little over six months we’re going to have a- uh oh.” The redhead pales, an impressive feat for somebody that’s already as pale as she is, and bolts out of the bed, running into the bathroom, Wash a fraction of a second behind her, grabbing her hair out of her face as she empties the ginger ale from her stomach into the toilet.
“I wish there was something I could do to help this go away,” Wash’s voice is soft as he kneels next to his wife, left hand holding her hair out of the way, right hand rubbing her back gently as she dry heaves again, dropping a kiss to her shoulder.
“Thank you, Wash, I know you’d move mountains if it would help, but you just being here and doing what you’re doing is enough. We knew this would probably not be easy for me if it ever happened, but I am glad it’s happening.” The smaller of the two leans back against her husband, breathing deep a few times.
“Good?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Do we need to cancel everyone coming over at Christmas?”
“No, that’s still two weeks away, and I want to see them all. It’ll be okay. As long as I have people around that I love and love and care for me, I’m perfectly fine dealing with this as much as I need to.”
Day 14: Surprise. Carolina comes home from a doctor's appointment with some news for Wash that's going to change their lives.
Set in a modern-day AU where they were in a PFL-like program and didn’t know if they would ever be able to have kids due to the stress, training, diets, and injuries sustained during the program.
Carolina Washington closes the door behind her, setting her lunch bag down and leaning against the solid metal behind her, letting out a sigh. 'This is good,' she tells herself, 'this is exactly what you wanted.'
"Lina?" She smiles at her husband's voice, coming from the small room they have set aside as a home gym. She breathes deep a few times, gathering her thoughts before pushing off the door, turning into the living room as he enters from the back hallway. "How was your appointment today? Everything good?" He closes his arms around her, obviously having not started his workout based on the lack of sweat, and drops a quick kiss to her lips. “Go by the store, too?” He points at the bag on the floor next to her lunch bag.
“Hey, yeah, I stopped by to pick something up. She said I’m looking healthy and all my bloodwork came back with good levels except I’m slightly anemic, but she’s not concerned,” she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist, pulling him close.
“Did she tell you to take an iron supplement or give you a prescription? You don’t need to be getting dizzy or passing out randomly.” The blond’s eyebrows knit together in concern, placing his hands on her shoulders to pull back and look her in the eyes.
“Yeah, I’m going to be getting some supplements, but uh, there was something else that popped up causing the anemia.”
“Carolina, what’s going on? I thought you said you were healthy?”
“Wash, let me show you something. Close your eyes please?”
“Will you please stop messing with me and tell me what’s going on?”
“Trust me.” Pushing away from her husband she leans down to the bag, grabbing a small pair of socks from it.
“Okay… closed.” Pulling the socks from bag she straightens again, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she takes the plunge.
“You can open now.”
“Carolina, what is-” Wash stops, staring at the socks, blinking in astonishment.
“Wash… are you okay?”
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Well, that depends on what you think they are.”
“Those are baby socks… why do you have baby socks? There’s no reason for you to have baby socks.”
“You better get used to seeing them because in about seven and a half months we’re going to be seeing a lot. I’m pregnant, Wash, that’s why I’m anemic. It’s normal and the prenatal vitamins should bring it back up to where it needs to be.”
“You’re serious about this; we’re having a baby?”
“We’re having a baby, finally.”
“Oh shit. Fuck we’re having a baby,” he breathes out, barely daring himself to believe it as he wraps his around his wife and pulls her close, trying to hold back the tears but failing as one of two make their way down his freckled cheeks. “I love you so much. I love you both.”
“I love you, too.”
“Fuck, everything is working out,” he sighs, voice so low that the redhead has to strain to hear him, squeezing him reassuringly.
“Everything is working out. We just had to give it time for our bodies to heal and be ready.”
“Yeah.” The blond drops to his knees, placing his hands on his wife’s still-flat stomach almost reverently, and dropping a kiss to it -a quick thought of what it will look like later in the pregnancy rushing through his head- before he speaks again. “Hi baby, it’s your dad. I can’t wait to meet you. Man, seven months seems like it’s gonna be forever, but I know it’ll be here before we know it. You’re going to be so loved. Wow. Don’t cause mommy too much trouble, okay?” He places another kiss to her stomach before standing again, noticing Carolina sniffling.
“Damn hormones,” he laughs as she speaks, bringing another smile to her face. “That was beautiful, Wash, I love you.”
“I love you, too, and I love our baby.”
“I wonder how North is going to react when we tell him.” The two laugh again, embracing each other for a few more minutes before gathering Carolina’s stuff from the floor, placing it where it needs to go, and deciding to get something delivered that night instead of either of them cooking.
Day 13: Mistletoe. York Hangs mistletoe all over his and North’s apartment and forces North to kiss him anytime they’re under it.
York grins as he hangs the last sprig of fake mistletoe, checking the timer for their breakfast in the oven. He pads his way down the hall, turning the corner into the master bedroom. “North, babe, wake up.” Placing his hand gently on his lover’s shoulder, shaking it slightly until he stirs, eyes popping open. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“What?”
“I got up early to make breakfast for us.”
“It’s not my birthday and it’s not our anniversary, so what’s the occasion?”
“Can’t I just do something nice for my boyfriend?”
“For most people, I would say yes, but you?”
“Oh stop being so suspicious. There goes the timer, I made the french toast bake, so get up.” The dark-haired man turns out of the room, heading to the kitchen to turn the oven off and pull the food out, setting it on the stove to cool enough to eat.
“Come on, babe, it’ll get too cold.” York wanders into their room again, grinning when he hears the water running from the bathroom sink, moving to stand at the doorway.
“Coming, hold on, be patient,” the blond replies, drying his hands before turning to walk out, coming chest to chest with his lover. “Gunna move so I can go have some of that breakfast you’ve been nagging me about?” The shorter man grins, pushing himself up onto his tiptoes to kiss the other briefly before moving out of the way, grabbing his hand to pull him out to the kitchen, stopping once in the hallway and in the doorway leading into the kitchen to kiss him again, deciding to see how long it takes the other to notice the mistletoe.
“Do you want orange juice or milk?”
“Milk, please. Okay seriously, York, what is all this for? Today is nothing special, so why all of this?”
“You don’t like it?” The shorter man pouts, dark eye twinkling in humor, alerting his boyfriend that his feelings aren’t really hurt.
“Of course I love it,” he replies softly, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head. “Just curious. I shouldn’t take this as a bad sign should I?” He chuckles, York feeling the vibrations deep in his chest.
“No, no bad signs. I just know we’ve both been really busy lately between work trips, and getting settled in living together, and having Theta adjusting to it all, too, but you’ve still been doing so much, so I wanted to do something for you. I figured this would be a good start to the day since we’re going to be pulling the decorations from the attic in a bit before we go get Theta.”
“Thank you, York, I love it. And I love you, too.” York turns in his arms, pushing up to kiss him again, knowing that he put mistletoe about the fridge since they frequently end up standing there together.
“I love you. Let’s eat before it gets too cold.”
“I agree. It smells amazing.” The pair sit at the small table in their kitchen and dining room, enjoying the silence between them, knowing that the house is about to get incredibly loud when Theta comes later.
After breakfast, the two put on old clothes, get decorations from the attic and set to work, York stopping to kiss his boyfriend anytime they’re under mistletoe, once in the living room, once again in their bathroom doorway, once at the attic door, once where they’re putting the tree up, along with various other places. “Alright, not that I don’t love it, because I do, but what is it with all the kisses today? Are you trying to get them in before Theta gets here or something?”
“Partly.” York grins, and without meaning to his eyes flick upward.
“You little shit, you put mistletoe all over.” North looks around the living room, grinning, spotting at least seven different sprigs from where he’s standing. “How early did you wake up to do this without waking me?”
“Like six.” The taller of the two laughs, tugging him closer to him, wrapping him in his arms.
Day 12: Holiday Lights. Tucker is hanging lights around the house and on the tree. Wash comes to the rescue when Tucker can’t reach the high places.
“I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus underneath the mistletoe last night.” Tucker sings the verse along with the radio, bobbing his shoulders with the tune, arms moving to wrap the string of lights around the tree, doing his best to weave them around various branches as he goes. Finishing that string of lights he rises from his knees, walking to the couch to grab a second strand.
“Jingle bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock. Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring.” Wash leans against the doorframe quietly, watching his boyfriend as he sings along, swaying his hips now that he’s standing and decorating the tree, a small smile gracing his lips.
The blond chuckles silently as Tucker strains, standing on his tiptoes as he’s finishing that strand of lights. Moving across the floor, he slides his hands around Tucker’s waist, laughing when his boyfriend jumps at his touch. “What are you laughing at?”
“You. I love seeing you happy like this.”
“Today’s a good day?” Tucker turns in his lover’s arms, smiling up at him.
“Yeah, today’s a good day. I seem to be remembering everything.”
“Good.” Tucker presses his lips up to his boyfriend’s, savoring the moment.
“Do you want help with the higher lights?”
“Yes please,” Tucker laughs, “it’s nice having a tall boyfriend.”
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