This was his world.
It swirled around him, dark, and black and comforting. It was always there, no matter where he went. Always, always, there was sky. Great, black sky full of nothingness that he reveled in, nothingness that was his element. When he was out there in that enormous void it wasn't a void at all – it was home.
His instinct as a pilot had developed over the years, but he'd always had a feel for ships. How they flew that was. Nothing about the mechanics of them made sense to him – bunch of gibberish. That was what Kaylee got paid for after all. But just what you did with a ship, in almost any given situation was simple. In a crisis life, and therefore flying, was pared down to the basics. Not push this button, pull this lever, twist this knob. No, it was always go this way, duck, swerve. Simple. Easy. Perfect.
He didn't like actual ground much. When you were planet-side it was easy to get caught and you had nothing to rely on but yourself. Some people – Jayne, Zoe – liked that. But he didn't. He liked it when you had an enormous construction of metal and wires and who-knew-what else around you obeying your every command. Because he knew exactly which commands to give, exactly when to give them. It didn't mean he was a coward. Just that he knew where his strengths were. And he played to them.
Flying was an art, sure, he supposed. But he liked it a bit more simple than that. It was nothing deep. It was just...fun. Good. Fun and good. Yeah. That definitely wasn't deep.
When he was at the controls of a ship, he knew what to do and when to do it, and he enjoyed it more than he enjoyed almost anything else in the 'verse. He could swing the Serenity in a U-turn, flip her over, and (apparently) pull off a Crazy Ivan.
He loved the discovery of every day. Every day he found out that the Serenity was far more than she seemed. Every day he found out that she could do more than he ever would have expected out of a pile of junk like her. He learned not to underestimate people thanks to the Serenity. Also, not to put plastic dinosaurs on top of buttons that said things like "Full Blast." But that was another story entirely.
After an argument with Zoe he'd sulk as he flew the ship. It was there, in the cockpit, that he waited for her to come and apologize to him. And it was the dark (accusing, he imagined) black of space that made him realize that he was the one that needed to apologize. But still, he'd waited there for a few hours, hoping she'd decide to apologize anyway.
This place was his domain, his security zone. The blackness of space, and on a smaller scale, the bridge of Serenity, where he always knew what to do and when to do it. This was him, in his essentials. Dinosaurs, mistakes, and flying. This was, to him, the world, in its essentials. Huge spaces, tight corners, and room for a screw-up or two on a good day. And the endless, empty, blackness of space. He loved it all.
This was his world.
A/N: Yay, it's Wash! I love Wash, personally, and though I've only seen the pilot episode I've done what I can with what I know. Hope this is alright. Let me know what you thought of it!