The Universe's Mixer

Fred had babbled the whole way to Der Waffle House; well, it wasn't so much babble but extremely disjointed yet highly informative perhaps one-sided information. How could she not want to spill her guts to one of the coolest people ever? Of course, she was still getting used to this new face; he was just so young, but she'd forgive him for it.

"Okay. Now it says waffles, but it's got pretty good pancakes. Though you have to sorta fight them about it because they say they didn' make pancakes until I found them on the menu once. And well, I gotta feelin' if they're from another place, cause you know they've got places as much as people, but if it's from another place, then maybe the City added the pancakes on there for me. I mean, really, pancakes and waffles? Who could pass up that?" Fred paused long enough to get a breath, that or she was chasing a thought that had suddenly come up. "I've been talkin' too much, haven't I?"

The brain blushed a little as she recognized her..."problem."

"I'm a babbler. I would go to babbler's anon, but what would we do to fix the problem? Sit there and not talk, or maybe we'd just write it, but then our hands would hurt. Maybe that would be how we got over it or somethin'." Fred shrugged at the Doctor before opening the door. "They've got eggs and hash, but I don' like hash that much. Not really my thing. Think it's the corned beef."

Now all they had to do was find a seat and get to the ordering/eating portion of their outing. Fred was excited to be eating with someone who could have a conversation with her and was new. She adored Wes, but she couldn't hog his time and all that.

(( This initial hunk of text is from a thread that happened via email. ))

"You know, I must have been absent the day they went over 'silencing beagles' in class when I was a kid. Boy is my face red." Wash said as he gripped the controls of the ship. The barking had been constant. Okay, not constant because sometimes the smallish dogs had broke up that canine banter with a long, drawn out howl. Either way, their assortment of bellowing and barking pierced through every wall and door and was making concentration on silly little things like.. oh.. landing, difficult. Even with the bit of cotton he'd snagged from the medbay shoved in his ears. A glance was stolen towards the figure standing beside him, Captain Malcolm Reynolds.

"The quicker you get 'er down on the ground, the quicker we all get back to not shouting over the chorus of hellhounds.." Mal clapped his hand onto the back of Wash's chair -- steadying himself for the shudder of the transition of passing through the approaching planet's atmosphere. "Not to mention the quicker we get paid, and that rubs me all kinds of the right way."

"Next time can we transport something small and mute? Things that come to mind are plastic ficus trees or perhaps those little, squishy bits people pack stuff with.. I could do with some "soft rustling" after this... okay.. hitting atmo.." Wash's gaze dropped back to the illuminated panel before him, monitoring the control Kaylee kept of the ship's engine as they passed through from the Black. The ship lurched, shuddering, and then the barking stopped. Wash's head snapped up -- where there should have been the aerial sight of clouds with parting glimpses of terrain -- there was terrain, from a purely terrestrial view. Not just terrain, either, interior terrain. Walls, like a small hangar built around the ship. The viewshield was smudged, foggy. The pilot was confused, seemingly frozen as his brain attempted to process what he was looking at. Had he passed out? Hadn't he just been in the sky?

"Captain..?" Slowly, Wash turned to look up at Mal -- finding nothing where the Captain had just been standing. "Mal?" This time the query was shouted a little louder, panic rising in his voice. Wash was pretty prepared when it came to piloting -- but having your ship.. land without you landing it? That was startling. As he reached for the ship's comm unit, it was then he realized the dimmed controls. Auxiliary power? But they'd just been running at 100%! In fact, aside from the lowered power, everything else was off, there wasn't the hum of the engine, there wasn't even the clamor of anyone running to the bridge to see why they'd suddenly stopped.

Wash depressed the comm button. "Hello?" There was an uncomfortable silence and no response. "Anyone?"

Nothing.

Wash spent more than an hour frantically running through the ship. Every bunk was searched, ever room torn through. Everything was in place, everything was where it should be, but it all looked untouched for years. Dusty. Abandoned. He'd call out for "anyone" and he'd call out for "Zoe".. but eventually those pleas for a response were begged from his wife alone. But there was nothing. Not even one blasted beagle. The cargo bay was empty. If this was an Alliance trick, it was a good one. Either they'd gone into wizardry or he was hallucinating. Slamming his hand against the controls to Serenity's cargo hatch, the doors parted with creaks and hissing, and Wash ran down the ramp into what looked like an abandoned storage facility -- a warehouse. No guards, no.. anything. The place looked as neglected as the ship. Light creeped in from one, human sized door along the metal wall and even said door was hanging by a thread to the doorway. Wash took one step towards the light, then paused -- remembering what Zoe might do in a situation like this. He turned back and hustled into the ship to return with a smaller gun from Jayne's collection. Hey, he wasn't exactly there to say no right now and Wash needed.. something.

Creeping towards the door, Wash's heart was pounding. This wasn't his deal. He stayed in the ship and the others explored new territories. But where were the others? Where was he for that matter? Drawing back the door a little to allow himself through, Wash took his first step into dank, humid air of The City docks.

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