A/N: I wrote this before 'What Remains' really sank in, meaning that a few parts are out of sync with canon (specifically, Wash not knowing Taylor before Terra Nova - for some reason it didn't really click in my head!). I was going to edit it, but I like the way the story flows too much. Just something to bear in mind when reading.

She found him in the fading light, standing on the deck overlooking the quiet marketplace with a glass containing what by now had to be the last of his 22nd century alcohol. The little light coming from inside the building wasn't enough to give away their presence to the stragglers on their way home below, so she cleared her throat to signal her approach.

He didn't look up from his contemplation but his posture relaxed at her presence, a fraction of a movement that she doubted anyone else would have noticed.

"Should you be drinking that?" She asked, keeping her tone light, her voice low.

He looked down at his cup thoughtfully. "Probably not. Doc Shannon warned me I might have concussion from smacking my head against the floor." He said slowly, giving her a sideways glance which held more than a hint of the mischief that for one horrid moment she'd had to face never seeing again.

"Look, sir..." She started, but he cut her off with a dismissive wave.

"Ah, better than a cut throat."

Wash's forehead creased a little but she stayed quiet, moving to lean next to him on the railing. They stood in companionable silence for a while, before it became impossible for her not to try again.

"Sir..."

He turned his head for the first time to look at her profile. "What's with the formality Wash? We're not on duty."

She sighed, ducking her head to hide a smile. "If you let me get a damn sentence out maybe you'd know."

He chuckled at this and held up both hands in defeat before taking a swig of his drink.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that again." She said quietly. "Losing her for a second time."

He swallowed heavily, his free hand clenching on the wooden support. Wash stamped down the reflexive panic that she'd taken a step too far and allowed him to process her words before she jumped to an apology.

One of the very first things she'd learnt about Nathaniel Taylor was that the man was damn near impossible to get a read on. The number of times during her early days in the colony that she'd ended explaining away a problem that didn't exist, talking herself into circles like the eldest Shannon girl… well, it was best not to dwell.

"So am I. But that's the benefit of getting all my memories back. Gives a sense of... perspective, I guess." He paused, swirling his glass so the amber liquid shone. "It still hurts like you wouldn't believe, but I've moved past it. A long time ago. I had to."

Wash held no responsibility for the next action of her traitorous hand, as it reached out to cover his. The contact of their skin was by no means a novel sensation - theirs was a relationship strengthened by a lack of regard for personal space - but the underlying affection brought her most guarded memories to the surface.

She thought of the night, so many years before, when he had trusted her enough to explain the absence of his wife. It occurred only a few weeks after his son went missing and was also the reason his bottle nearly didn't see out the first two years in Terra Nova.

She hadn't been his second yet, the colony chain of command was still blurry and the night was made hazy by good liquor. The direct result of that combination was something that they'd had to promise each other would never get in the way of doing their jobs.

But she remembered. As did he.

"You gonna share that?" She asked, forcing her way out of the recollection.

He smirked at her impertinence. "I've made this bottle last seven years!"

"I'll get you another one." She drawled, snatching it from his grasp and downing the remains of the liquid, placing the glass back in his hand before his fingers even missed its presence. "Besides, you're convalescing, and I do not want to get on Elisabeth Shannon's bad side."

"Convalescing, eh?" He laughed, standing up straight. "I suppose that means you'll have to head the dawn patrol while I catch up on my sleep."

Wash growled in annoyance as he started inside. "Nathaniel!"

He turned in the doorway and gave an exaggerated shrug. "You can't have it both ways." He softened his words with a smile. "Goodnight Wash."

She responded distractedly as the door closed behind him, his words echoing in her mind as she returned to her quarters. They couldn't have it both ways… but she wasn't about to let that stop her hoping.