A/N: Back again with your regular scheduled 'What should have happened at the end of this week's episode' ficlet. Hope you enjoy and I apologise that it degenerates into fluff much quicker than I usually manage - I hope Jim makes up for it.

"Lieutenant." Taylor greeted, without looking up from his work. At Wash's continued silence, he looked up to see her glaring at him with a force that, frankly, actually managed to impress him.

"Is it at all possible for you to go OTG anymore without provoking a prehistoric animal attack?" She asked, hands balled into fists at her side.

He evaluated her carefully. She was angry - boy, was she angry - but there was more there. A unmistakable sense of fear. She was scared for him, for the situations he kept getting himself into when she wasn't around and given his run of luck recently he wasn't entirely sure he could blame her.

"How was Outpost 9?" He asked, instead of commenting on his determination.

From the look on her face, deflecting was the wrong thing to do. "How was Mira?" She countered.

She looked like she'd rushed straight up to his office from the gate if her rumpled appearance was anything to go by - Taylor would put good money on Shannon and his big mouth being the source of all this information considering he'd been tasked with greeting the returning survey team.

The man was an asset to the colony but he sure as hell didn't know how to keep his nose out of things that didn't concern him.

He stood to be on a level with her. "Would it help if I apologised?"

Wash looked a little taken aback by his words. "You don't need to do that sir." She said, voice wavering slightly.

"But would it help?" He asked, walking around the desk to stand beside her.

She was quiet for a moment, thinking. Eventually she turned to him, a faint smile playing at her lips. "I think it would, sir."

"I'm sorry, Wash." He said, his tone sincere. "I promise to think twice before going OTG without you there to patch me up when things inevitably go wrong."

She chuckled as she shook her head at him. "Apology accepted."

She was about to turn and leave, satisfied with their resolution, when she noticed the graze on his cheek. Her hand came up to hover over it thoughtlessly, millimetres from making contact with his skin; Taylor felt his breath catch in his throat (and hoped she didn't notice).

"Please tell me you at least got yourself checked out?" Wash asked, fingers tracing the length of his wound in mid-air. "Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you didn't."

He doubted he could quite express his relief at her answering her own question - the likelihood of him being able to form a coherent response decreased with every second she stayed so close to him. It was all too easy, then, to wind his arms around her and put a little pressure on her lower back to pull her close to him.

He would be the first to admit it wasn't the finest way to avoid speaking words he shouldn't but Wash didn't freeze like he was expecting, instead bringing her arms up to circle his neck and tug herself even closer.

They stayed like this for an indeterminate time; apologies, promises and hopes in each even breath against each other. Wash shifted to tuck her forehead into the curve of his neck and he could feel her exhalations against the thin fabric of his t-shirt as the heat passed through to his skin below.

His hands, no longer fisted together as they had been at first, moved to press flat against her lower back to transfer some of his own heat back to her.

Were they other people, this could turn into something more, something inevitable. But they were not other people.

Other people didn't have to deal with Jim Shannon.

"Hey Wash, Elisabeth is looking for you- Oh." He trailed off, awkwardly standing half-in and half-out of the doorway. "Commander."

"Shannon." Taylor acknowledged, and he could feel Wash's smile against his skin.

"I'll uh... I'll go tell her you'll be along in a sec." Jim said, inching backwards.

"You do that." Taylor replied, feeling little shakes in the body pressed against him, suggesting Wash was laughing.

The door shut behind Jim and Wash stepped out of Taylor's embrace with a smile. His heart felt lighter than it had in a long time as he smiled back, the tension that had been so rife when she'd entered his office only a few minutes earlier having disappeared as quickly as it ever did - they found it very hard to hold grudges with each other, now. After all the time they'd know each other, it seemed petty and unnecessary not to talk out their issues, no matter how angry one of them got with the other before that happened.

"He's waiting outside, you do know that?" Wash asked, breaking their momentary silence.

He laughed, patting her shoulder consolingly. "Of course he is. But I'm not the one who has to go out there."

"Oh, I hate you sometimes." She muttered as she walked towards the door.

"What was that Lieutenant?" He called, his light and jovial tone letting her know he'd heard every word.

Wash turned, her hand resting on the door handle. "Nothing, sir. I'll see you at lunch."

Taylor left it a beat after she exited before he crossed the room, peering out the slats overlooking the staircase to accidentally-on-purpose overhear the conversation that would inevitably be taking place.

"Is that what happens at all your debriefs?" Jim asked, shooting Wash an amused grin. "Is that why I'm never invited?"

"Shannon." Wash warned through gritted teeth, leading him down the steps.

"Because I've gotta tell you, I'm a pretty good hugger."