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Wash was somewhere in the Life labs, feeding the minipets he'd helped gather during Amity's Fright Night. The little cluppy that was his charge seemed far more interested in drooling on the FEAR candies he'd offered than actually eating them, and he frowned. He shouldn't be surprised - he'd won it from that booth with all the couches.

"Come on, lil' man," he crooned, nudging the food closer.

The clack of heels was his first warning that he was no longer alone in the room but - Wash didn't mind. This was a place of work, with lots of little technician-typess and what not scurrying around, and he did his best to stay out of the way while attending to this lab's diminutive inhabitants. Instead, he busied himself cleaning the little guy's cage, making a face as he did so. This was way too much like having a class gerbil.

When he finally did turn around, he was drying his hands on a paper towel, having washed them in the sink.

"Good evenin -" he began, but stopped, a little surprised. Sasha? Well, this was HER domain. He felt a little like he'd intruded, but... She looked distracted, white as a sheet.

Like she's seen a ghost. Sally quipped unhelpfully. Oh, ha ha.

"Sasha?" He finally murmured quietly, with the lilt of a question.

He didn't make any move to approach her. The standing, the clearing of the throat, he wasn't sure what that was about, but... He put his hands atop the nearest table, leaning against it, trying to seem non-threatening. Something was up, she seemed unusually tense-

Wash blinked, silent for a few long minutes.

"He what?" He had known the other man was desperate but... That was sick. The revulsion on his face was mixed only in small part by pity. What in God's name had he been thinking?

"When did this happen?" He asked, gently. Wash stayed where he was. Don't run, he thought; he prayed. Just keep talking. Talking helped. Sometimes. Maybe.

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Sally simply emanated horrified silence.

Wash let out a low hiss through his teeth as she recounted the encounter. God. He should have mentioned his talk with the man sooner but- he had no way of knowing just how out of touch Jerry had become.

It was okay. It was okay that Sasha couldn't be angry - that she was scared.

It was okay, because Wash was feeling very, very angry. No, angry didn't quite cover it. That was a fiery, wanton thing. His was a cold, calculated fury. He tried not to let it show but - the firm set of his jaw, the harsh line of his brow. He examined the last conversation they'd had - Hell, any of the conversations they'd had after Sasha had broken ties with the man - and it painted an ugly picture. Yes, he had made motions about his feelings toward her being undiminished, about a desire to help, but... That was all normal, if a little grating.

This? This wasn't.

He tried to approach her, slowly, carefully. He had to swallow it, that anger. Had to hear the whole story. He tried to relax his features, to give her a softer gaze. "Don't let him make you feel that way. We're hunters, remember? Your weapon won't let anythin' happen to you." You never have to be powerless again. He held his hands out at his sides, didn't reach for her, just walked unhurriedly around the table to where she stood.

Wash let her talk, and when she finally came to him, he slid one arm across her back, kneading her shoulders in useless little circles. He kissed the top of her head gently - a chaste gesture.

"It's not you, it's him. He - he's been... unstable, lately, I didn't think nothin' of it until..." Wash's voice trailed off as he tried to organize his thoughts.

"The other day, I ran into him. He was a man possessed - said he needed you, wanted you - to make you happy...I tol' him to let it be, an' when he didn't listen- I tol' him I couldn't help. You can't change people, but I thought... Well." He had thought he just needed time; space. Maybe he still did but - it was a small island. Dangerously so, sometimes. Then something else occurred to him, and he stiffened a little.

"He asked me if I had any...Was he drinkin'?" God, Jerry. God. If this were... anywhere but here, Sasha could likely press charges. A restraining order, at the least. The thought was chilling. It would have ruined him. It still could.

He took a deep, steadying breath, the swell of his chest pressing against her cheek.

He cupped her delicate jaw in his large hands, studying her face for a moment before speaking. Wash's dark eyes radiated concern, but...

"No apologies." He let his hand fall to her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You could trus' me before - as you can trus' me now." He had trouble putting it into words - but Sally suddenly piped up.

We can handle it.

"I can handle it. Besides," he added, absently brushing a lock of her hair away from the graceful sweep of her neck, "he - I shoulda been more firm. I know it's your business, but he came to me and I-" I was so tired.

"I let it go, and I'm sorry. Do you want me to talk to him? I was here anyway, prob'ly the whole lab is buzzin' about it now. I..." He bit his lip, searching for the right words. God, grant me Your grace. He didn't want to put pressure on her, especially not now. Don't hide from me.

"If you need anything, it ain't no thing, alright? Someone to talk to; a place to stay. I won't ask you for anythin' you ain't ready to give." I won't try to keep you. No, no. If she ran - he'd let her. He had been alone before, and besides, loss was a lesson he had learned many a time before. He would let it go, as he had so very many things.

Nothing gold can stay.

"Aight." He nodded in acceptance. If she felt talking would make things worse - well, he trusted her judgement.

And then he let her drag him down, down into the sweetness of her lips, and Jerry and the rest of their problems were forgotten. Wash felt a deep, heady pleasure, and came up from the chaste contact with a rumbling chuckle.

"If I ain't tired enough that I can't sleep through it, then we," he declared, drawing his hands down to encircle her hips, "Ain't doin'," he laid a gentle kiss on her cheek, and moved down to nuzzle her jaw, "it right." He closed his eyes for just a moment, reveling in the contact, before straightening.

"Now, ma'am, I do believe you were tryin' to work," he remarked teasingly, pulling away. "Don't let me keep you, cher."