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Archive for the tag “agent washington”

Red vs Blue fic: Attention to Detail

After their last Eleventh Hour Hail Mary mission, Grif had plopped down right among the dying enemy soldiers and said he wasn’t moving until he got some leave. He wouldn’t even budge for Sarge’s shotgun.

“We’ve saved the galaxy enough times. I think we deserve a vacation.”

No one could come up with a logical rebuttal for that so they headed to the nearest resort planet.

OR

Epsilon and the gang take a vacation, and it goes about as well as you’d expect.

rating: R for language 


attention (n): consideration, notice, or observation | detail (n): a part considered or requiring to be considered separately from the whole

Chapter 1

“Blackwater is a neutral planet,” Simmons read from an advertisement as they skimmed over a midnight ocean, heading to the biggest space dock on the southern continent—a tourist hot-spot apparently. He continued to read off a long list of rules and regulations for visiting Blackwater while Church and Caboose watched their clunky approach out a side window.

“Why do you think they call it Blackwater?” Caboose asked, thoughtfully. “Do you think it’s because the water is black? Or do you think the water is black because the planet is called Blackwater?”

“That doesn’t even make sense, dumbass,” Tucker said from Caboose’s other side. “Why would the water change color to black just because the name of the planet has ‘black’ in it?”

Church reached around behind Caboose and smacked Tucker upside the head.

“According to the brochure,” said Wash, strolling over to join them (or maybe just trying to be closer to the emergency exit as they neared the dock), “the water on this planet appears black on the surface because of a mineral in the soil.”

Caboose mulled this over for a moment. “Neat.”

They bumped and bobbled along as Grif struggled to maintain altitude and pitch on his first landing approach. It usually took two or three tries if they didn’t want to crash and burn on impact, but they glided in, only slamming slightly into the docking bay before easily coming to a stop on the first attempt.

“Ha!” Grif shouted from the cockpit. “Nailed it.” Read more…

Red vs Blue fic: Nightlight

rvb_nightlight

561 words | [G]
There are still a lot Wash has to learn about the inner workings of Blue base now that Epsilon is gone. Like Caboose’s sleeping habits.


The knock on the door is light. For a moment, Wash isn’t sure he heard anything, but there it is again. A soft tap, tap, tap. He rolls over, checking the time on his computer terminal. 0124.

“This better be important,” he grumbles, hauling himself out of bed. “I was sleeping good. Sort of.”

He’s ready to dress-down the idiot waking him up, but it’s Caboose standing there, shifting from foot to foot and fiddling with the edge of his t-shirt.

“Caboose?”

“Oh, hey, Agent Washington. Did I wake you up?”

“Yes, you did. It’s one-thirty in the morning, Caboose. What’s wrong?”

“Oh.” He pulls on the hem so hard it tears. His shoulders slump. “I was just kind of having a problem.”

Wash’s brain is still fuzzy from sleep, and he really doesn’t feel like dealing with Caboose tonight, but he pulls in all his frustration. “What kind of problem?” Read more…

Red vs Blue fic: Midnight in the Garden of Our Past Lives

rvb_midnight.jpg

1440 words | [PG-13]
It’s late, and Wash can’t sleep. But he’s not the only one. Maybe what him and Carolina really need is someone to talk them through the dark night. Cuddling also works.


Wash isn’t sleeping anyway when he hears Carolina call out from the room across the hall. He stares blankly at the gray ceiling trying to ignore the sobs—she would hate to know he was listening. But the sound is a knife through his heart in more than one way. Still, he doesn’t move because she’d probably kick him in the balls if he tried to play the half-assed hero with her. Carolina is no damsel in distress.

But when the noise from her room fades, he silently slips from his bed. Wash is the only one that knows the code to her lock, and the soft click of it disengaging sounds abnormally loud in the late night. He waits for Carolina to throw open the door, gun in hand. Or something equally dramatic, but it’s quiet. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or bad.

He finds her sitting in bed, knees to her chest, staring into the dark. “Hey,” she says without looking at him like she knew he’d come. He has no idea why she would think that. He’s never done this before. Well, not the breaking and entering part—he can’t count the number of times he’s listened to her cry from outside her door, though. He needs to know she’s okay. Read more…

Red vs Blue fic: Burnt Toast

rvb_burnttoast.jpg

Wash/Carolina | 1013 words | [PG]
Two years ago, they shut down Project Freelancer for good, saved the people of Chorus from mutual annihilation, and stopped Hargrove from destroying more lives. Now Carolina and Wash have to figure out how to live with everything that happened and each other. 


The sun slants through the kitchen window of Blue base at just the right angle to reflect off the stainless steel counters, brightening the dull gray space. Carolina leans against the sink, sipping coffee, watching the dust moats float in the strip of light as it moves slowly across the room, her coffee getting cold along the way.

“Hey, Boss,” Wash mumbles as he enters, stumbling towards the coffee maker. He’s still in his pajamas—plaid flannel pants and faded t-shirt—hair plastered to his face. He practically moans at the first taste of his coffee.

“You’re up early,” Carolina finally says. Her coffee is completely cold now, but she drinks it anyway.

Wash shrugs, hopping onto the counter across from her. “Just thought I’d watch the sunrise. Get a jump on the day. You know.”

Carolina knows. The whole base knows. Probably the entire moon. It was one of those nights again. Wash’s screams echoing through the halls. They don’t talk about it because what’s there to say? They all have nightmares—flashbacks to the horrors of their past lives. Just Wash has more than one life to account for in his head. That means three times the number of sleepless nights. He looks awful, bloodshot eyes staring blankly at the floor. Read more…

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