Summary: Cold medication makes Wash loopy. Z/W
Author's Note: Doing some research, I discovered that Alan Tudyk played Lancelot during one of the Broadway runs of "Spamalot". With that knowledge now lodged in mind, I couldn't help coming up with the following idea...
Disclaimer: "Firefly"/"Serenity" and all associated characters and situations are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit. "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and "Spamalot" are the property of their respective owners and are also used for non-profit entertainment only.
-o0O0o-
"We Eat Ham And Jam And..."
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'
-o0O0o-
"That's not right."
Malcolm Reynolds, former Sergeant in the Independent forces and current Captain of the Firefly-class transport Serenity, slid back away from the galley table and came to his feet in one fluid motion.
"What's wrong?" Doctor Simon Tam asked in confusion as the ship's mechanic Kaylee Frye stood up just as quickly.
"Serenity's changed course and speed," Kaylee answered with a frown. "We're still three days out, she shouldn't be changing anything just yet."
"Alliance ship?" Simon's concern was visible.
"I figure that's what I'm going to find out," Malcolm, or 'Mal' as he preferred, interjected. "Kaylee, get down to the engine room just in case we need to move faster."
"Already there, Captain," the young woman said, hopping over the door-frame on her way out of the galley towards the engine room as Mal headed out the other door that led towards the crew section of the ship and bridge.
Swinging around corners and hopping more than one railing, Mal managed to make it to the bridge in near-record time - record time for when getting shot at wasn't immediately involved - and stopped in the doorway with a groan of frustration. Despite the fact that he was sick and supposed to be in bed and medicated up to his eyeballs, Hoban 'Wash' Washburne was in his normal seat as Serenity's pilot. Knowing he must be starting to go soft in his old age, Mal decided to give the other man a chance to explain before taking action.
"Wash, you mind telling me why you changed our course without asking me and it not being a matter of life and death just yet?" He asked, not prepared for the answer which he was about to receive.
"My King!" Wash exclaimed, "Forgive me, but I felt it urgent that we find the Bridge of Death most... urgently..."
"...The 'Bridge of Death?" Mal asked, raising an eyebrow as he entered the bridge proper.
"The Bridge of Death which no man has ever crossed, the Bridge of Death over the Gorge of Eternal Peril that lies in the way of our quest for the Holy Grail, my liege," Wash answered, shaking his head and blinking. "That Bridge."
"Uh-huh... and if no man has ever crossed this bridge, how did this grail get to the other side?" the former-Browncoat asked rhetorically before sighing. Ignoring the answer that Wash was giving, something about grapes it sounded like, Mal stepped over to the intercom panel and pressed the button that would activate the ship-wide function.
Clearing his throat slightly, the Independent Sergeant-turned-freighter Captain announced, "Corporal, you're needed on the bridge; get your husband off it and back to your quarters and lock him in there or something so I don't have to hit him over the head with some kind of blunt object to keep him from steering my ship somewhere it shouldn't be going."
"As for the rest of you, you all can relax and Kaylee, you can get back to dinner." There was a moment's pause, then he added, "Instead of playing footsie with the Doc, you might let him know that we might be needing him in a professional-type capacity all things depending. All things including how long it takes you to get up here, Zoe."
Releasing the button to wait for his first officer's arrival, Mal looked at Wash and shook his head, "What the hell am I going to do with you, Washburne?"
Flatly, Wash looked at him and answered, "I know not, my liege."
"I've got a few ideas, that's the problem. I don't know which side Zoe'd come down on if my Corporal and your wife ever were on different ones," Mal remarked casually, leaning against one of the bulkheads. "Don't rightly think I'd ever want to know either, and if I tried any of those ideas I'd probably be finding it out mighty quick-like. And the only reason I'm saying this where you can hear it is I figure you're too medic'd up to remember it when you're sober again."
Before the pilot could form any kind of words in response, his wife had arrived on the bridge.
"Wash, aren't you supposed to be in our bunk... in our bunk?"
"He don't seem to be handling whatever the doc gave him too well," Mal informed her.
"Yeah, I'm seeing that," Zoe remarked. Stepping forward, she took hold of her husband's arm, "Come on, honey, time to go back to our quarters so I can do the whole 'in sickness' part of our vows."
Wash shook his head furiously, "I can't leave like this! It's not in my... my idiom!"
"Washburne, you've got two choices; you can walk off this bridge with your wife right now or I can introduce you to the butt-end of this pistol here and let her drag you out. Either way, you're going to your bunk," Mal informed him.
The other man's eyes shot wide, "No, it's too perilous!"
Mal sighed and narrowed his eyes, "You think you're a knight, right?"
"Of course, My King," there was more than a little offended pride in Wash's tone.
"Well, then, isn't your duty to face the peril?" Mal asked, slightly mockingly.
"...and my favorite color is blue..."
The pilot's answer had the Captain glance over at Zoe to receive a shake of the head in response; blue was not actually Wash's favorite color. Mal was getting the idea that this whole thing was going to be just too weird to believe for anyone that wasn't there with it happening. He was there and he wasn't sure he was believing what was happening, for that matter.
Starting to move towards the hatch, Zoe tugged on her husband's arm, "Come on, Wash, they're waiting for you in Camelot..."
Wash perked up slightly, "Camelot?"
'Camelot?' Mal mouthed in disbelief.
"Camelot," Zoe confirmed; picking up one of her husband's plastic dinosaurs with her free hand and lightly tapping him on the head with it in a mix of amused and annoyed affection - it was okay, though, it was only a model.
"Then let us ride for Camelot," Wash declared, letting himself be led towards the door by his wife.
Stopping just before the doorway, Zoe carefully pushed him through it, "You go on ahead, and I expect you to be in bed by the time I get there, Wash."
"Yes, my Queen," Wash answered with a bow and slight stagger. Neither of the other two were entirely sure if that was supposed to be Wash's current medically inebriated state or his normal mis-sense of humor behind that comment, however.
As soon as her husband had disappeared down the ladder to their quarters, Zoe looked at the Captain, "Well, that was different."
Mal took the plastic dinosaur she still held out of his first officer's hand, "I'll just put this up, why don't I?"
"Surprised you're taking this so well, sir," Zoe observed.
"I'm sure sooner or later one of the rest of us is going to be taking ill and being just as out of our minds. 'Til that happens, the worst punishment for Wash not following the doc's orders to stay in bed is gonna be me reminding him of everything he said here today. Same thing'll go for the next one of us in those shoes, even if it's me. That's the way it is."
"So, what? The purpose of getting sick is to say things when you're high on medication that your friends can hold over your head for years?"
The former-Sergeant shrugged, "Pretty much."
Zoe blinked for just a moment as she mentally processed that, "Huh. I always thought that's what getting drunk was for."
"Both of them work. It's just people are a lot more forgiving when you're sick than when you're drunk."
"I'll have to remember that," Zoe turned and started to follow her husband's path off the bridge.
"Morning sickness doesn't count, Corporal," Mal called out after her.
"I'll try to remember that, too, sir," she called back over her shoulder without stopping.
Mal sighed and hung his head, "They're gonna bring even more domestics on my ship, aren't they? Baby gates, child-safety locks, that kind of thing; it's like it's not even going to be my ship anymore..."
-o0O0o-
Author's Note: Keeping Wash's sick ramblings to Lancelot's dialogue, derivitives therefrom, or generic comments was challenging at times, to be honest... For that matter, I had to pass up a couple of good lines/jokes I thought of because the Serenity crew would never have heard of or seen "Holy Grail" or "Spamalot".
I have no regrets for including 'it's only a model', though.