Tucker wouldn't say that he had changed completely. Going out on New Year's Eve would have been great. Going out with everyone, including Wash, would have been better.
And he wasn't about to leave him behind.
Fireworks, New Year's Eve, or not, Tucker knew he'd end up being a moody lump twenty minutes into any festivity with Wash home alone. Fully aware that his friend - more than a friend? - was capable of being on his own, Tucker simply wouldn't have it.
Not now and, probably, not ever.
Except right now. Tucker would have made an exception when Wash came nosing around in the kitchen when he was, indeed, attempting to make them food. Grilled cheese seemed to be the safest bet. Tucker hoped that was the case. His wallet didn't have funds to replace counters and tables every other day after all.
Making a face and taking the butter from Wash, Tucker let out a sigh. "Nope. You know I can work the stove, right?" To an extent.