[ Wash doesn't arrive on schedule. He always arrives early.
This is early even for him, though, paranoid to a fault as always, but in this he feels more than a little justified. Byerly's communications with him hadn't exactly been ordinary, and normally Wash wouldn't be goddamn considering it even slightly even having affirmation of his loyalties from Miles -- but after what's happened recently, well. He's throwing caution to the wind. He's given his word to Miles that he won't run off on his own to the base, but this isn't quite that, isn't it.
He has a prearranged meeting with Natasha, too, but more news can only be better, and Wash is under the assumption now that Byerly probably isn't aware he's working as a handler himself, best to keep it that way. Miles likely doesn't know Byerly's arranging to meet him, even. Wash is exhausted and entirely looks it when he shows up at their meeting spot in the woods, hasn't slept since the Sonia, just returned from Vorkosigan Vashnoi, but he pushes himself through, as always. Byerly's twisty instructions had led him to the base of a small cliff, and he checks around it, just instinctively, for something, anything. It's a little too neat of a setup for an ambush.
But there's nothing, and eventually he's satisfied enough to just -- wait. Leaning back against the cliff, one arm folded over his chest, idly spinning a knife in the other. Sorry about coming armed, Byerly, but at least he's showing you the knife. It'd stay hidden usually, but his lungs still feel twisted up in a mix of awful anxiety, leaden and heavy with guilt. Keeping his hands busy is something that eases it, even just a little. ]
Riverfall-ish, 12th? lmk if this works or if i should change anyth!
This is early even for him, though, paranoid to a fault as always, but in this he feels more than a little justified. Byerly's communications with him hadn't exactly been ordinary, and normally Wash wouldn't be goddamn considering it even slightly even having affirmation of his loyalties from Miles -- but after what's happened recently, well. He's throwing caution to the wind. He's given his word to Miles that he won't run off on his own to the base, but this isn't quite that, isn't it.
He has a prearranged meeting with Natasha, too, but more news can only be better, and Wash is under the assumption now that Byerly probably isn't aware he's working as a handler himself, best to keep it that way. Miles likely doesn't know Byerly's arranging to meet him, even. Wash is exhausted and entirely looks it when he shows up at their meeting spot in the woods, hasn't slept since the Sonia, just returned from Vorkosigan Vashnoi, but he pushes himself through, as always. Byerly's twisty instructions had led him to the base of a small cliff, and he checks around it, just instinctively, for something, anything. It's a little too neat of a setup for an ambush.
But there's nothing, and eventually he's satisfied enough to just -- wait. Leaning back against the cliff, one arm folded over his chest, idly spinning a knife in the other. Sorry about coming armed, Byerly, but at least he's showing you the knife. It'd stay hidden usually, but his lungs still feel twisted up in a mix of awful anxiety, leaden and heavy with guilt. Keeping his hands busy is something that eases it, even just a little. ]