[ closed ]

[hardwearing]

Who: Wash, Tucker, and Eleven
What: time for El to start meeting Wash's friends
Where: spire 1, apartment 401
When: backdated; shortly after the Blue Team meeting
Warnings: none yet, there's a child involved so hopefully Tucker will behave

This meeting is long overdue, and Wash has to wonder if he was stalling it. Until now, when it absolutely has to happen if he's going to move in with his team. He feels responsible for them but he's not going without Eleven, not leaving her behind even if she does tend to come and go like a stray cat. He'd promised her she'd always have a safe place to come back to and refuses to go back on that, so if he moves, she's coming. That means she needs to meet everyone, which could be overwhelming. Tucker seems like the natural choice to go first -- he loves kids so he won't start out uncomfortable like Carolina might, and won't be as potentially confusing as Caboose. Epsilon can happen eventually. It's best if he eases the girl into the idea one person at a time. Things had worked out okay with Kyna but he knows introducing her to a whole crowd of people from his world might set her off.

He's waiting now for either of them to show up as requested, half hoping El gets home first so he can reassure her that Tucker is safe and friendly and she doesn't have to make a choice right away. The other half thinks it might be better for her to get to know him before he even brings up moving. Maybe he should have asked someone for advice on handling this, but it's unlikely anyone he knows would have been equipped either. He's not comfortable asking Lance. So... flying blind it is.

At least he's got a meal ready?

Comments

[lovernotafighter]

Hey, at least the meal was ready.

Tucker wasn't sure about this; he knew only the barest of basics about this mysterious child roommate he was supposed to meet: little girl, stronger than Caboose but in a creepy way, could probably kill them all. Okay. Sure. He could deal with this; people thought the same thing of his own kid, didn't they?

At least she didn't like to drink pints of blood when she was born.

Wait, she didn't, did she?

He showed up only a few minutes late (new record), armor left back at home for some casual clothes (a teal shirt with a white cross that said "Orgasm Donor" in The Red Cross font) and a pair of jeans. For Tucker, this was toning it down a bit, a level of behavior reserved for dinner parties he was never really invited to.

If the door was unlocked, Tucker wasn't knocking; he worried about personal space exactly zero percent of the time. If it was locked, well...he'd knock with his foot.

"Wash, I swear to god if you're feeding us MREs, I'm going home right now."

Did Tucker know Wash could cook? Well...maybe? But it was way more fun to give him shit regardless.

[theflea]

Eleven was already in the apartment, just as Wash said, she liked to come and go like a stray cat. Having turned her nose up at the cooked meal (preferring a bar of chocolate she'd found in someone else's house, ) Eleven was peacefully laying behind the couch, on the floor with her feet up against the wall.

Her upsidedown position gave her a funny view of Wash's friend and she quickly rolled over and under the couch, survival instincts kicking in. As she rolled undercover, the blond wig she favoured was left just out of reach. It was too late to grab it now, she might be seen by this loud, stranger so instead she simply glared at him, all bald and covered in dirt from under the couch.

Sure, Wash had told her he had friends here, he'd said something about meeting them but honestly, she hadn't anticipated how scary it could be. What if they we bad men? With big scary guns and weapons? What if they were like Wash, only nasty?

[hardwearing]

For fuck's sake, Tucker, learn to knock. Wash sighs as his friend barges in and he catches a glimpse of El panicking and rolling under the couch.

"It's not MREs, relax." He can't really cook, actually, but since he got here he's learned to make a few specific things that don't come out of cans. For this occasion he actually bothered to make a trip to the garden and get fresh things. "Help yourself, just keep it down."

Getting Eleven out from under the couch might take a minute. He crosses over to it and kneels down, speaking softly. "El? It's okay, this is Tucker. The friend I told you about, remember? His son's about your age."

[lovernotafighter]

Keep it down. It wasn't exactly his forte but he was far better at it than Caboose, which was a good thing in this situation. He shrugged and went to claim a seat, noticing that yeah, the food smelled good. When did Wash learn to cook?

A girlfriend, a kid, and now cooking? He's so domestic.

He smirked a little to himself until...okay, nevermind, he's talking to a couch. Clearly domestic life was driving him crazy, like it did with most people. Couldn't blame him.

Tucker's brow furrowed a little, and he wondered if he was talking to his cat because...yeah. This wasn't awkward at all, nope. Tucker let his eyes roll as he leaned back in the chair.

"Now you're just making me sound old."

[theflea]

Tipping her head aside, looking past Wash to where Tucker was now sitting. Sure, his words were soft and she knew she could trust Wash, but almost every adult was a bad person as far as she was concerned. It would take a little while before she would let her guard down fully.

Listening while the stranger spoke, El looked back to Wash. "Mouthbreather?" A furrow in her brow, a curious glint in her eyes.

Seeing as she had no real reason to be afraid, considering she could probably level the whole building with them all in it and still walk out alive, she decided to start crawling out from under the couch and beside Wash. He hands slipping around his forearm and favouring to lean mostly behind him so that she was partly hiding still.

[hardwearing]

"We are old," Wash deadpans at Tucker, though he's mostly kidding. The fact is they're dealing with a twelve year old -- at that age all adults seem ancient whether they act grown up or not. But then El is crawling out from under the couch, proving that Wash wasn't talking to either inanimate objects or his cat. He pats her hand where it grips his arm and makes to stand up.

Her inquiry has him grinning a little -- did Tucker hear that? "No. He's pretty smart, actually. Just loud. Come on over, I want you to say hi and eat a real dinner."

But he won't move forward until she agrees, remaining a tall, solid barrier in place between the two of them. In his experience he has to introduce her to other people as one would a scared animal. Slow and cautious, on their terms. Even a well meaning gesture, if too sudden, could make her lash out.

[lovernotafighter]

"Speak for yourself! I'm a glorious young Adonis in my fucking prime!"

At least in his own mind, right? But Tucker believed in that, believed in his own youth, his own immortality. It was partially what allowed him to do the stupid things; loyalty was the other motivator.

This felt so...domestic. Meeting kids. Having dinner. Being over to Wash's home. Seeing a child emerge from whatever hole she was hiding from (not going to lie here, that was pretty awesome), Tucker just grinned. Dude, Junior sucked at Hide and Seek, but no one was surprised considering he was a rather significantly large alien. Watching someone else that could do it was kinda cute.

"How many 'mouthbreathers' does Wash hang out with, huh?" Come on, El, give him the dirt.

But his smile softened a little, smoothing from the usual smirk. "Hey, kid. Have you been taking care of this buzzkill for us?"

[theflea]

El nodded to Wash, she'd happily follow him over to the table. The food didn't smell that bad after all.

Feeling a bit more at ease, partly because of Tucker's question, El left Wash's side and made her way over to the table, pulling out the chair across from the stranger and leaning over to dip a finger into his plate of food. What?! She still had a long way before she was fully domesticated, besides, her and the boys back home shared everything!

"Hang out with?" The question was a genuine one, slang and some general terms of conversation were still strange to her. She thought she understood a little and shrugged her shoulders. " Dunno. Didn't know he had friends." Sorry Wash, she didn't mean to do you like that bro!

Deciding the food wasn't as bad as it looked, though it wasn't as good as the chocolate she'd just scoffed either, El pulled up her plate and dished herself up a generous helping, tucking in with her bare hands.

She smiled as Tucker addressed her, looking briefly over to Wash, smirking before answering- with a mouthful of food, unfortunately.

" Mhm! I keep guard, stop him from dying."

[hardwearing]

Oh geez. Wash drags a hand down his face, expression fond but long-suffering. He's been trying, really, Tucker, don't get the wrong idea. At least she bathes on her own now. He reaches for a fork and holds it out to her encouragingly.

"El. Utensils." You know what these are for, kiddo, use them. "And you know I have friends -- you're both just trying to make me look bad."

Which probably means they'll get along just fine, so he doesn't actually mind if it's at his expense. Wash takes his own seat at the table, grinning slightly.

"The rest is true, though, she does. El's really powerful." Like... crazy powerful, honestly, and by his new Hadriel standards that take into account he's dating a wizard. He certainly wouldn't want to get on the little girl's bad side. "Do you want to explain to Tucker what you can do?"

[lovernotafighter]

"He has a bunch of people that he makes runs laps and obstacle courses. It's pretty much the same thing as friends." Mostly because he knew that he wouldn't make them do it unless he cared, after all, and what was a friend other than someone you cared and worried about?

Okay, you know what? Tucker liked this kid. Not only did she give the insults to Wash as good as he did, but she was keeping an eye on him. Well, as much as a kid really could; even with Wash's reassurance, Tucker wasn't sure he actually believed in all that powerful shit. Funny, since he had already seen what Kyna did.

He didn't even mind her sticking fingers in his dinner; Grif used to do the same thing to everyone else. It's like being home. You know, just minus half the people.

There was an eyebrow arch and finally a shrug as he stuck his finger into the food and then into his mouth. What? She did it! It meant he could, too. "Sure. Fire away. Let's see what you got."