Standing before Wash, Tucker was a small yappy dog in front of a larger one, unaware of his own lesser size and distinct lack of authority in the matter. Wash could take him. Wash could totally take him right now because Wash was ready for a war that just ended, but Tucker didn't care because he still thought he had a chance. Did it matter that he was sans armor? Did it matter that he was even drunker than the freelancer? Fuck no.
Tucker had to look up at him, and he didn't care about that either.
"Yeah, but fuck them. Not literally. Well, some literally." His hand curled in the armor as best it could, and he tried to pull Wash inside. What? The more his door was open, the more the music was filtering into the hallway and wasn't that bad? Wasn't that a bad thing, Mr. I'm-No-Fun-Because-They-Removed-My-Fun-Gland-In-Project-Freelancer?
"I still have your bottle left." Wash's now, not his own. He couldn't see it as anything else. "How did the talk with Carolina go? You're still in one piece."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2016-06-12 05:55 pm (UTC)Tucker had to look up at him, and he didn't care about that either.
"Yeah, but fuck them. Not literally. Well, some literally." His hand curled in the armor as best it could, and he tried to pull Wash inside. What? The more his door was open, the more the music was filtering into the hallway and wasn't that bad? Wasn't that a bad thing, Mr. I'm-No-Fun-Because-They-Removed-My-Fun-Gland-In-Project-Freelancer?
"I still have your bottle left." Wash's now, not his own. He couldn't see it as anything else. "How did the talk with Carolina go? You're still in one piece."