For Sherlock

[workworkwork]

29th March

It still felt wholly strange to Wash to be moving, but not be involved in the actual moving of the station. It felt... wrong.

He was on his way to one of the other observation decks, carrying on with making his star charts when he saw a familiar face waiting by the elevator. Well, familiar in that 'I've seen you around' kind of way. He knew nothing about the man, other than he seemed to have a stick up his pi gu*, the kind of man Wash stayed away from naturally. Simon had been hard enough to get to know, no matter how hard he tried. Men like the two of them didn't naturally mix, and he'd had had enough problems with Lady Grantham.

Juggling the piece of paper he was using, he stepped into the elevator, nodding at the other man in greeting, but keeping it to that. He was lost in thought (well, memory of that morning where Zoe had been in an affectionate mood, Very affectionate mood.) when the elevator suddenly juddered to a halt.

"Oh, **wo de ma he ta de fen kuang de wai sheng dou you are kidding me," Wash said, slipping into both Chinese and English, as he pressed one of the buttons repeatedly to try and get it to move again.



*(yeah, you can guess) **(Mother of God and all her crazy nephews)

Comments

[highfunctioning]

Sherlock was torn between pique and curiosity. For the moment, curiosity won; a reversal of his assumptions was much rarer than a broken lift. Up to this point he'd been avoiding conversation with this over-smiley person. But that was before...

"You speak Mandarin?" He was at least fairly certain it wasn't Cantonese, though it had strange influences he couldn't place.

[workworkwork]

"Shi a, I mean, yeah," Wash said, surprised. So far it had only been that blue colored woman that appeared to know Mandarin, other than Zoe. Now someone else recognized it? He'd have to let his wife know.

"You know it?"

[highfunctioning]

"Only enough to know when it's being spoken, plus a few pertinent phrases."

Though I would have gotten 'mother of god' from your tone.

"Since you obviously didn't learn it in China, can I assume you learned it on one of the many vessels similar to this one you've crewed?"

[workworkwork]

"What?" Wash said, looking at the man in surprise. "You learn it at whatever schoolin' you get. Everythin's bilingual," he said, distracted, but raised a finger as if to ask a question, then put it down again. "How'd you know I've crewed vessels like this? Well, kind of. This is fancier than most."

[highfunctioning]

American English and Mandarin wasn't a standard combination anywhere Sherlock was familiar with [or any when, for that matter]. That bore further investigation, but Sherlock couldn't pass up an opportunity to stretch.

"I didn't know; I noticed. You and your wife are among the few people on board who are clearly accustomed to these conditions. From the day e arrived you were steady on your feet, not obviously winded, so you're accustomed to the artificial gravity -which gave everyone else hell their first week or so. Also the lack of natural light has everyone else yawning and dazed by now, some of them clearly beginning to fray. Not you. You're as chipper and sharp as I imagine you're capable of. As for there being many ships before this, well, we're trapped in a broken lift and you're irritated, not afraid. You had already moved on to fixing it, whih means you're mechanically inclined, probably a tradesman with some skill...Pilot? Don't look like that it's all in the thumbs. A migratory profession in any universe, so, many ships."

He paused for breath and to enjoy the familiar look on the other man's face.

[workworkwork]

Wash just stared at the other man, his mouth slightly open at him basically telling Wash his life story. He dropped his hand from where he'd started to pry open the elevator panel, glancing at his thumbs (calloused, so many hours flicking switches, pressing buttons), then back at Sherlock with a huge win.

"Okay, that was pretty... How do you do that?" he asked, frowning as he looked at him.