Tucker’s walking back to his room - his and Caboose’s (and Wash’s, technically), since Church moved out - when he stops. His eyes narrow. The kitchenette is normally a pigsty with the way Grif, who uses it the most, organizes. ‘Organizes’. But today it looks neat, clean, and spartan in a way Tucker associates with Wash’s bedroom. Which is fitting, because Wash is spreading peanut butter on Ritz crackers with the type of attention snacks really don’t deserve. Caboose is perched on the counter next to him, slouching exaggeratedly because a giant like him could never sit up without whacking their head on the cabinets.
Read More →