I've got you unarmed right now. [ A little dryly. ] It happens sometimes. You should be ready for it.

[ And even then, the way Tucker's expression shifts the moment Wash pulls his knife, the twitch of his hands, the way he folds his arms over his chest. He'd caught a bit of that, back home, had never really had a chance to try and ask him about it. He watches him for a moment, another casual spin of the knife in his hand, practiced, familiar, he does it like breathing. Everyone was better than him at fucking everything, in Freelancer, but there were a few things he genuinely excelled at, beyond being adequately mediocre. His knife work was always one of them. ]

Guess I am a knife guy, though. [ Tipping his head to the side, just watching him as he spins it again, with more flourish this time, letting it run over the backs of his fingers and tossing it easily to his left hand where he starts spinning it there just as easily. Something flashy. Uncharacteristic, for Wash, he's never been a show-off, but ah. Someone else certainly was. ] Wasn't the only one we had for a while, was I?