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Summary
He's still jittery when you reach your doorway, leaning down to brush his nose against yours in a sort of almost-kiss, the way he's learned ship cameras don't count as public displays of affection. "G'night, mayfly." He retreats with a crooked grin. "Remind me again why I can't come in with you?"
"The official line is that there's a risk of contamination," you smile, cat-like, as you press your palm to the pad besides your door and it opens with a hiss. "If you're asking me, it's 'cause they think you'll give me Plant cooties if we share a bed. Might spread it to the whole crew."
"That's not fair," he whines, lingering on your doorstep. "Pretty sure Plants are immune to cooties. Probably."
You and Vash keep in touch.