I am, quite literally, the worst.

I feel so bad.

It's been MORE THAN THREE FUCKING MONTHS SINCE I'VE UPDATED! I am a disappointment to the human race. Please feel free to sacrifice me whenever you want and make my descendance into hell quicker, please.

Also. This is the last chapter. I had planned this all in advance, so I'm just wrapping up like I would have anyway if I hadn't procrastinated like the little shit I am. Basically, what I'm saying is that I'm not rushing into an ending, so there isn't any secret content you might be losing because of my lazy ass.

Thanks for staying with me for this, quite literally, insane ride of a fic!

CT didn't hesitate to respond. "Dare." She said, with a certainty Wash couldn't help but admire. The problem was, he had not planned anything, and had hoped that she took a while to answer so he could figure it out. In short, he was kinda fucked.

"Oh, um, I, uh..." He really wished that he could stop fumbling and actually come up with something. He really needed a drink right now.

A drink... that was it!

"I dare you to steal beer from the kitchens." He knew it was on the ship because of this one kitchen guy who snuck it on board every time they landed on a planet.

All the guys nodded, humming appreciatively. CT stood up, stretching and cracking her knuckles. "Most important mission of my life. Let's make it count." She slid open the door, took a breath, and then darted out.

Not even five minutes later, she came back laden with quite a few cases of beer. Wyoming didn't hesitate to grab an entire case for himself, and each Freelancer made their way over to grab a bottle.

Holy shitballs, they were all really drunk.

York didn't know how much time had passed, but it had probably been hours, all full of the dumbest truths and dares he had ever seen in his life, counting his years as a dumb teenager.

He was currently sitting on the couch next to Carolina and North - as South proclaimed, his 'fuck buddies'. Trying not to reach for another bottle of beer, but almost giving into the temptation.

Tex was probably the only sober one in the group, though the only thing stopping her was probably her absolute refusal to take off her helmet. Either way, a drunk Tex was not something York wanted near him ever. Not ever. Never in a fucking billion years. She'd, like... karate chop him in the balls by accident. Or shoot him in the face.

So, of course, it was Tex who got the group in line again. "Alright, assholes. CT, it's your turn to truth or dare somebody, and don't give me any fucking dumb ones like y'all have been doing for the past hours. Or somebody's gonna get hurt." To add on to her already menacing tones, she cracked her knuckles, and CT sat up straighter.

She turned to Wash. "Yo, Wash, buddy, pal," She said, words slurring together a little, "Truth or dare?"

He turned slowly to look at her. "Yes." Carolina, still somewhat sober, sighed in exasperation.

Tex punched him in the shoulder. "Get your shit together, dumbass, or I'll do it for you."

He cleared his throat and sat up straighter too. "Dare."

CT thought on it for a moment before coming to a momentous conclusion. "I dare you to... dye your hair pink."

There was silence for a moment before Wash said, "Okay."

York spoke up. "Where are you even gonna get fuckin' pink hair dye?"

South raised her hand. "If you've ever even looked at my hair, asshole, you'll notice that I have pink hair. Ish. Fuckin' dumbass prick." York raised his hands in surrender.

"Sorry I asked."

Tex got up, and dragged Wash up with her. He swayed slightly, but stayed on his feet. South joined them, and they left.

When they came back, Wash's hair was fucking bubblegum pink, and it was the most beautiful sight York had ever seen. Like, even more beautiful than Carolina.

Wyoming cried for twenty minutes because of how hard he laughed, which was not much of a surprise anymore.

Because Wash's hair was fucking bubblegum pink! He had literally taken the time and effort to dye his own hair the most ridiculous shade of pink known to mankind. York almost joined Wyoming in his tearful laughter.

Between his guffaws, he chokes out, "That's a good look for you, Wash."

Wyoming wiped away a tear. "You look positively foolish! I can't believe my eyes." Wash grumbled.

"We'll see how hard you're laughing when I truth or dare you." He said, crossing his arms. "Truth or dare, bitch?"

Wyoming's laughter died away. "Dare."

Wash thought on it for a while, and then laughed. "This is a good one. I dare you... to draw on 479er's face while she's sleeping." Instantly, Wyoming's face turned white as a sheet, and horror covered his features.

"You can't be serious."

Tex responded. "And you can't turn down a dare."

Wyoming got up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking around the room for help. "I... alright." The rest of the crew got up, not wanting to miss it, and made a pitstop at the locker rooms for some shaving cream and markers that Maine kept in his locker.

They arrived in front of the room designated '479er'. Wyoming stared at the sign fearfully, before cautiously opening the door and tiptoeing inside. Not wanting to try their luck in this game of life-and-death roulette, everyone else peeked in from the hallway.

Wyoming first uncapped a marker with a small pop that made him flinch, and proceeded to fill in the space between her eyebrows to make it look like a unibrow. When she didn't wake up, he moved onto her forehead, drawing a vulgar message: "I FUCK CHICKENS."

She didn't stir, so he went on to draw dicks on her cheeks and polka-dots everywhere else. Then, once he was done with that, he took the shaving cream and gave it a little shake, popping off the lid. Then, he sprayed a line of cream along her hairline, and then on her jaw to make it look like he had a beard. Feeling a bit more confident, he leaned over to get the far side of her face which was a bit lacking compared to the close side - and dropped the can, watching it clang to the floor.

479er stirred, and the rest of the Freelancers wasted no time in sprinting down the hall as fast as they possibly could. Wyoming stood, frozen in fear, beside her bed. He started to back away when she sat up, touching a hand to her forehead and feeling the shaving cream. With a look of absolute rage, she turned to face Wyoming, who was just trying to slip out into the hallway.

He had no such luck.

She leapt out of the bed with a cry of rage, grabbing the first thing she could find - a chair. Wyoming's eyes widened and he tore through the hallway, shrieking with terror. She chased after him, the chair poised above her head and ready to strike.

Wyoming's screams echoed all throughout the ship, and the rest of the Freelancers (safe back in the lounge) laughed at how hysteric it sounded. Being drunk, Wyoming was soon caught by the fuming pilot, and his screams consisted of such things:

"OUCH! MY WANG!"

"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY MUSTACHE!"

"OW! THAT HURT!"

"STOP WALLOPING ME WITH A CHAIR!"

"THIS IS ABUSE!"

By the end of it, even Tex was near tears. Needless to say, Wyoming did not return.

However, their laughs was cut short by the sliding of a door. Everyone's heads turned to the entrance, and their chuckles died away. Each soldier sat up, and inconspicuously set their beer bottles behind their chairs where hopefully they were hidden from sight. But their subtle tactics were not enough to hide the raucous activities from the eyes of the Director.

He stood with a disapproving smile, glaring at each of the Freelancers. "What is going on here?"

Nobody responded, so he continued. "Over the course of this night, I have heard constant yells, screams, and interruptions. I was even interrupted from my work by what seems to be a prank phone call. Not to mention you are all wasting your valuable time to sleep, and disrupting the rest of the staff because of such actions."

There was silence as each Freelancer's shoulders slumped, and dread filled the air as they wondered what type of punishment they'd have to endure.

Then, Tex stood up. "You know, Leonard. We've been having a lot of fun here, and god knows we need it sometimes. We're under constant stress. I think that a little game of Truth or Dare is helpful."

The Director shifted slightly. "What you think is not of consequence - however, your actions are. Such activities will not be allowed aboard this ship."

Tex sighed. "Don't you dare say that again, Leonard."

He met her eyes defiantly. "Such activities will not be allowed aboard this ship, Agent Texas."

Texas whistled. "And you just took on a dare from Tex, Leonard Church. I'm afraid that means you're part of this game now. So, I've got another dare for you - fuck off. Go fuck off, and do whatever it is you do all day. But leave me, and my friends, alone."

The Director did not move. Tex spoke again. "I'll give you 'till five. One." She said, holding up her hand in what appeared to be a move to count off the time on her fingers. And then she raised her middle finger. "Two." She held up her other middle finger.

The door opened and the Director was in the hallway before she even got to three.

Each Freelancer sat in silence for a second, and then: "Did you just scare off the Director?" North asked incredulously.

York elbowed him. "That's not the real question. Did you just call us your friends?"

Tex shrugged. "Well, yes."

CT whistled. "And we didn't even have to dare her."

Tex sat down, and there was a comfortable silence for a little while. Carolina was the first one to break the quiet. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay, it's getting late and we have training in the morning." She got up, and York joined her. As they walked out, York turned and gave a two-fingered salute to the rest, and the door shut behind them. They walked out holding hands.

Wash and Maine were next, CT joining them shortly after. North and South left together too, leaving only Tex in the room. She smiled, looking around at the trashed room. It had started out being something she really didn't want to do - hanging out with the fucktards - but somehow had ended up being kinda... fun.

For the first time in a while, Tex went to sleep peacefully, and stayed asleep.

And that morning, they were all woken up by Wash's high-pitched shriek. "Why the FUCK is my hair PINK?!"