A/N: What is with me and writing in Wash's POV? And I'm not even one of his fangirls...
[These are Maine's growls, as heard by Wash]

There was a party at Blue Base. New Year's eve was upon them, which gave everyone (besides Caboose - Wash shuddered at the thought of him drinking alcohol) an excuse to get drunk of their asses and throw a party with the opposing team. While everyone was having a blast upstairs, Wash was sitting in his room. He had a few beers from his personal stash and was thinking about old times. Those days at Project Freelancer were some of the best and worst he's ever had. That could also be said about his time with the Blood Gulchers.

~One day, many years ago...~

York used any excuse to throw a party, that was a well-known fact. Be it holiday or birthday, he was ready. But the most famous ones were the New Year's parties. Well, maybe that one Fourth of July party topped them, but that's a story for another day.

But this party was a bit more tense. Carolina and Tex were staying as far away from each other as physically possible, South was more bitchy that usual, and CT was nowhere to be found. Even Wash and Maine seemed to be more distant.

Plopping down on the couch, Wash sighed. North gave him a sympathetic smile.

"What's wrong? Ya know, besides the whole 'we're at war' thing."

Grabbing a beer from the table, he replied, "I just don't see the point in having a party if everyone's gonna act like they have a broom up their ass."

Chuckling, North grabbed his own beer. "Well, I guess that justifies having a party even more. Parties are great ways to sit down and relax, not a care in the world."

He held up his bottle. "To not giving a fuck."

They clinked their bottles together before taking huge swigs from them.

Not to long after that, everyone seemed to relax a bit, feeling a bit tipsy. Even Tex was getting stoned. Wash, true to his nature, was in the process of drinking himself into a coma when Sigma suddenly appeared in front of his face, causing him to choke on his drink.

"Whadya' want, Sig?" Wash slurred once he recovered.

"Agent Maine has been looking for you, Agent Washington."

"Tell 'im I'm t' wasted fer a drinkin cont'st." Wash went to take another sip of his beer when someone snatched the bottle from his hand. "'EY!" It took him a moment to realize who was standing in front of him.

"Maine! Howzit goin, buddeh? Enjoyin' ther p'rty?"

[How many beers have you had?] Maine asked, raising an eyebrow. He didn't seem to have had any alcohol, which was totally unlike him.

Wash grinned as he replied. "Whut's it t' ya?" He reached for the drink in Maine's large hand, but frowned when it was moved out of his reach. He did everything that he could think of, short of climbing on top of the larger Freelancer, to get his beverage back for a good five minutes. It was a very comical sight. Eventually, the Recovery Agent gave up.

"So, did y' cominere jus' t' fuck wit me, or did y' 'ave sometin else in mind?"

Glancing at his fellow Freelancers, Maine replied, [I would feel better if we continued this conversation in my room.]

Wash just shrugged. "Whutevr floaz yer boat." He turned to walk away, but apparently forgot there was a couch right behind him. Maine sighed, helping his friend back up. he had to help Wah to the bathroom, where the blonde immediately became sick inside the toilet. He seemed to sober up a bit after that, seeing as he was now able to walk on his own. he asked if they could talk in his room, as it was a lot closer.

[I'll be right back. Need to take care of something.]

Maine left the room for a few minutes before coming back. Wash just raised an eyebrow, which meant 'explain.'

[Didn't want Sigma to hear this conversation.]

Wash's eyes widened as he realized what he meant.

"Isn't thet a bit t' dange'us?"

[Nah, everyone's too drunk to give two shits.]

"Whut did y' want t' talk about?"

Instead of answering, Maine changed the subject. [Remember when you and I first met?] This caused Wash to bury his head in his hands.

"Why did you 'ave to bring thet up?" an embarrassed Washington asked. He seemed to be sobering up quite a bit. At least his speech was.

[You are horrible at making good first impressions.] Maine grinned.

"I know. Shaddup."

[And what about our first mission together?]

Wash started to laugh at this memory. "Yeah! I didn't know so many tings could go wrong on one miss'n." They both had a good chuckle at this.

"Why are ya gettin' all sent'mental on me?"

Maine looked at the ground. there was a short silence before he growled, [I feel like something bad is going to happen soon. Something that not even York can shrug off with a good party.]

The blonde nodded. "I know how ya feel."

There was another silence. Everyone knew that shit was going to hit the fan eventually. It was only a matter of time.

[...Do you remember all those times we spent alone?]

'How could I ever forget?'

Maine rubbed his temples in frustration, turning away from Wash. [God, this so awkward to ask...] Wash had an idea as to where Maine was going with this.

"Just say it."

Maine turned back to his friend. [Do you want to have sex one last time?]

"I thought you would never ask.'

Alas, those days were over now. Only he and Carolina were left alive from Project Freelancer. Even the Director was dead. But The Meta...was he really dead? It just seemed too easy.

While he was working with The Meta, Wash looked for even the smallest sign that Maine was still there. Anything would do, even by accidently saying 'David.' Was it too much to ask?!

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in."

Church walked in. They were lucky to find that extra robot kit in Red Base. "Wash, you okay? You haven't came out of your room at all."

He just smiled sadly. "Just reliving some good memories."

Church understood completely, even though most of the 'good times' he had weren't his own. "I'll leave you to it."

Once he was alone, Wash pulled out a picture from his pocket. It was a picture from much earlier on, back when everyone was still new to Project Freelancer. Maine had hair back then. It was a picture of Maine holding Wash's helmet above his head, and he was practically climbing on top of the larger Freelancer to get it back. He strongly suspected it was York who took the picture and placed it on his bed. He smiled before putting it back in his pocket, chugging the rest of his drink, and exiting the room to join the party.