Day One - Uncomfortable Bunk-mates.
Who: Zoe Washburne, Malcolm Reynolds (open).
Where: In the dorms.
When: Early morning, Day One.
Rating: PG/PG-13-ish.
Status: Closed, continued in new thread.
Summary: Having fallen asleep in Zoe's tree room the night before - Zoe in her cot and Mal in a chair - they awake the next morning to discover themselves sharing a large bed in a pastel hotel-looking room. The resulting awkward increases tenfold when Mal gets up in the buff. Joking banter is sniped about and they read the welcome letter. With some trepidation they gear up and head out into the hall.
Zoe shifted under the covers, her arm brushing up against something warm. She smiled, her sleep-hazy brainpan instinctively identifying the form as Wash, whom she scooted closer too and nearly curled herself around before remembering that Wash was dead, and probably all kinds of cold and clammy, not warm and breathing. Cracking her eyes open against a beam of sunlight, flickering merrily from behind a set of lacy, gently wafting curtains, she found herself not in her dimly lit bunk on Serenity but in a bright pastel room. More significantly she was somehow lying in bed next to Mal and not her deceased husband. She sat up in alarm, hand automatically grabbing for the firearm at her side as the events of yesterday filled her memory. Her hand was met only with soft cotton sheets, however, and glancing around she spotted her holster and sawed-off neatly arranged on a table across the room right next to Mal's, the lot set on top of her vest and a piece of paper, their boots stood up underneath.
Zoe gaped in disbelief. Hadn't they just been in her treehouse... bunk... thing?
"Where the rutting hell are we now?"
Where: In the dorms.
When: Early morning, Day One.
Rating: PG/PG-13-ish.
Status: Closed, continued in new thread.
Summary: Having fallen asleep in Zoe's tree room the night before - Zoe in her cot and Mal in a chair - they awake the next morning to discover themselves sharing a large bed in a pastel hotel-looking room. The resulting awkward increases tenfold when Mal gets up in the buff. Joking banter is sniped about and they read the welcome letter. With some trepidation they gear up and head out into the hall.
Zoe shifted under the covers, her arm brushing up against something warm. She smiled, her sleep-hazy brainpan instinctively identifying the form as Wash, whom she scooted closer too and nearly curled herself around before remembering that Wash was dead, and probably all kinds of cold and clammy, not warm and breathing. Cracking her eyes open against a beam of sunlight, flickering merrily from behind a set of lacy, gently wafting curtains, she found herself not in her dimly lit bunk on Serenity but in a bright pastel room. More significantly she was somehow lying in bed next to Mal and not her deceased husband. She sat up in alarm, hand automatically grabbing for the firearm at her side as the events of yesterday filled her memory. Her hand was met only with soft cotton sheets, however, and glancing around she spotted her holster and sawed-off neatly arranged on a table across the room right next to Mal's, the lot set on top of her vest and a piece of paper, their boots stood up underneath.
Zoe gaped in disbelief. Hadn't they just been in her treehouse... bunk... thing?
"Where the rutting hell are we now?"