[Star Wars: Drabble] "Out of the Cockpit" [G]
Title: Out of the Cockpit
Prompt: writerverse challenge #01 October table of doom, prompt #22 ‘mostly harmless’
Word Count: 387
Original/Fandom: Star Wars, Expanded Universe, immediately post-Starfighters of Adumar
Characters: Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian
Pairings: implied Wedge Antilles/Iella Wesirri
Summary: Red Flight winds down after their debriefing.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Out of the Cockpit
“Hey,” said Wedge, softly, falling into step beside Janson as they left the briefing room. “You okay?”
The other man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Mostly, yeah. You know, somehow, debriefing is always worse than the mission.”
Wedge nodded, but Hobbie said, “That’s because Ackbar doesn’t appreciate your colorful commentary.”
“What?” asked Janson, his offended expression half-joking and half-genuine. “Of course he does. Didn’t you see the way he was fighting a smile the whole time?”
“I think that was more of a grimace,” put in Tycho. “Except for the part where we dressed up in ladies’ clothing. That definitely got a smile.”
“I still say I was best-looking,” Janson insisted, and a little of the tension in his shoulders seemed to have eased. “Not that it was any real competition, of course.”
“I don’t know,” said Wedge, thoughtfully. “I thought Hobbie made a rather handsome woman.”
“It’s all in the posture,” Hobbie agreed, solemnly, and predictably, an arguement broke out from there.
Wedge just listened, watching Janson flutter his eyelashes outrageously at Tycho.
Iella had told him, only recently, that he was different in action, in the cockpit, but he knew that other Wedge was still just him, more focused and less distractible, more calculating and less forgiving. But Janson in action was something else entirely. Wedge had seen it happen, like blast doors slamming shut behind Janson’s eyes, shutting in all the light and laughter that were usually there.
And where Wedge and Hobbie and even coolly-calculating Tycho could easily snap out of their fight-and-flight cockpit mentalities, Janson often had a harder time coming back to his usual charming self.
“All right, you two,” said Wedge, just as Hobbie was starting to look genuinely offended. “You’re both pretty. Now, let’s go get some caf.”
“Sure,” Janson agreed, slinging an arm around Wedge’s shoulders. “Because you know who’s really pretty in ladies’ clothing?”
“Wes…” the general began.
His friend only grinned. “Iella,” said Janson. “Our fearless leader’s new fiancée.”
“It’s not official,” Wedge muttered, feeling himself blush.
“That’s not a denial, boss,” said Hobbie. “Who should we invite to the bachelor party?”
Janson lit up. “Ooh, bachelor party!”
Wedge sighed, and let them talk. Sometimes, unit morale came at his own expense, but he was surprisingly okay with that.
THE END
Current Mood:
rainy
Prompt: writerverse challenge #01 October table of doom, prompt #22 ‘mostly harmless’
Word Count: 387
Original/Fandom: Star Wars, Expanded Universe, immediately post-Starfighters of Adumar
Characters: Wedge Antilles, Tycho Celchu, Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian
Pairings: implied Wedge Antilles/Iella Wesirri
Summary: Red Flight winds down after their debriefing.
Note(s): originally posted to the writerverse wv_library
Out of the Cockpit
“Hey,” said Wedge, softly, falling into step beside Janson as they left the briefing room. “You okay?”
The other man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah,” he said. “Mostly, yeah. You know, somehow, debriefing is always worse than the mission.”
Wedge nodded, but Hobbie said, “That’s because Ackbar doesn’t appreciate your colorful commentary.”
“What?” asked Janson, his offended expression half-joking and half-genuine. “Of course he does. Didn’t you see the way he was fighting a smile the whole time?”
“I think that was more of a grimace,” put in Tycho. “Except for the part where we dressed up in ladies’ clothing. That definitely got a smile.”
“I still say I was best-looking,” Janson insisted, and a little of the tension in his shoulders seemed to have eased. “Not that it was any real competition, of course.”
“I don’t know,” said Wedge, thoughtfully. “I thought Hobbie made a rather handsome woman.”
“It’s all in the posture,” Hobbie agreed, solemnly, and predictably, an arguement broke out from there.
Wedge just listened, watching Janson flutter his eyelashes outrageously at Tycho.
Iella had told him, only recently, that he was different in action, in the cockpit, but he knew that other Wedge was still just him, more focused and less distractible, more calculating and less forgiving. But Janson in action was something else entirely. Wedge had seen it happen, like blast doors slamming shut behind Janson’s eyes, shutting in all the light and laughter that were usually there.
And where Wedge and Hobbie and even coolly-calculating Tycho could easily snap out of their fight-and-flight cockpit mentalities, Janson often had a harder time coming back to his usual charming self.
“All right, you two,” said Wedge, just as Hobbie was starting to look genuinely offended. “You’re both pretty. Now, let’s go get some caf.”
“Sure,” Janson agreed, slinging an arm around Wedge’s shoulders. “Because you know who’s really pretty in ladies’ clothing?”
“Wes…” the general began.
His friend only grinned. “Iella,” said Janson. “Our fearless leader’s new fiancée.”
“It’s not official,” Wedge muttered, feeling himself blush.
“That’s not a denial, boss,” said Hobbie. “Who should we invite to the bachelor party?”
Janson lit up. “Ooh, bachelor party!”
Wedge sighed, and let them talk. Sometimes, unit morale came at his own expense, but he was surprisingly okay with that.
THE END
Current Mood:
rainy