Wash grinned, a dreamy look in his eyes as he recalled the jubilant reaction to his successful flight. It occurred to Mal that even though Wash was a happy person, today was the first time he’d seen such pure joy on his face. The man really does love to fly, he thought.

“I wasn’t given any more assignments for a week after that, and I kinda started wondering if I was in trouble, or if I’d messed something up they didn’t want to tell me about. Then one day the Captain pulled me into his office.”

Wash’s legs had gone shaky as he walked in, his fears boiling to the surface. I messed up. He sat at the Captain’s direction, and waited nervously. “He told me I’d been chosen to fly the attack mission. A green fighter and here I was making one of the most important strikes of the war.” Wash had left the office, wandering onto the track and starting to run. It wasn’t like him, he hated PT. But he was overwhelmed with adrenaline; excitement unlike anything he’d ever felt was driving his steps.

Wash looked at Mal, his eyes glowing. “Can’t even describe how happy I was. It was the most thrilling, humbling thing that ever happened to me. Just-” he threw his hands in the air with a grin. “Every dream come true.”

Mal smiled, clearly enjoying Wash’s enthusiasm. “Must’ve been amazing.”

Wash nodded rapidly. “Most certainly. It took them a while to get things all set up, and I did a lot of practice in simulators and such. Finally the day came, and getting in was pretty much exactly the same, tricky but doable. It was fun.”

Wash’s eyes sparked with excitement as he remembered the thrill of that flight; danger and adventure the perfect accent to the unfolding of a perfect plan, executed without a hitch. “Didn’t have to waste any time looking for the command center this time, just flew in, unloaded my missiles, admired the nice black crater I’d made, and ran like hell. Figured on it being easy getting back, seeing as I’d just destroyed the net. One of our fighters waved me, s