The Informant (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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gunsforhire2015-05-13 10:39 pm
the_informant) wrote in gunsforhire2015-05-13 10:39 pm
Entry tags:
LOG: A Little TLC
Who: Agent Texas (Native), Agent Florida (Native)
What: Relaxing in the safety of a safehouse
Where: One of Florida's safehouses
When: 5/13, evening
Warnings: Adult situations, definite Florida trying to process human emotions, later nsfwish content
It's been the strangest few weeks, Florida decided a long time past. But here he was now, stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He's got two vat-meat steaks out, defrosting, he's got roasted potatoes ready for the oven, in fact, he's mostly got a rehash of the first meal he made for Tex (lower quality of course), waiting in the wings for the finishing touches. Minus the mousse. That just takes too long.
And added in? Beers chilling in the fridge. Beers he thinks he might partake in himself.
So much of the recent past has been stressful. More of it has been confusing. He's still trying to get his brain around how far he goes for Louisiana, a woman who will hate him soon enough. Another part wonders why she really saved him from that shipping container, and if he would have died without her. He ponders thankfulness and fear, insomnia and rest, and even the whole fiasco where he threatened to murder Maine and his boyfriend just to get to Lou...
Which only reminds him of the other complication in his life. At least he understands Lou on some level. Surely that is some deeply buried paternal instinct activating around her. A father fiercely loyal and protective, willing to take on all comers for his young. Actually, that sounds more maternal except in humans. Oh well.
But Tex?
There's a question. All the money. All the grief. A lot of the problems start and end with a woman that until recently he hadn't seen for a good long time. And now here he is, opening one of his safe havens to her when he isn't even going to get any physical pleasure out of it.
Where has he gone wrong?
What: Relaxing in the safety of a safehouse
Where: One of Florida's safehouses
When: 5/13, evening
Warnings: Adult situations, definite Florida trying to process human emotions, later nsfwish content
It's been the strangest few weeks, Florida decided a long time past. But here he was now, stretched out on the couch, staring at the ceiling. He's got two vat-meat steaks out, defrosting, he's got roasted potatoes ready for the oven, in fact, he's mostly got a rehash of the first meal he made for Tex (lower quality of course), waiting in the wings for the finishing touches. Minus the mousse. That just takes too long.
And added in? Beers chilling in the fridge. Beers he thinks he might partake in himself.
So much of the recent past has been stressful. More of it has been confusing. He's still trying to get his brain around how far he goes for Louisiana, a woman who will hate him soon enough. Another part wonders why she really saved him from that shipping container, and if he would have died without her. He ponders thankfulness and fear, insomnia and rest, and even the whole fiasco where he threatened to murder Maine and his boyfriend just to get to Lou...
Which only reminds him of the other complication in his life. At least he understands Lou on some level. Surely that is some deeply buried paternal instinct activating around her. A father fiercely loyal and protective, willing to take on all comers for his young. Actually, that sounds more maternal except in humans. Oh well.
But Tex?
There's a question. All the money. All the grief. A lot of the problems start and end with a woman that until recently he hadn't seen for a good long time. And now here he is, opening one of his safe havens to her when he isn't even going to get any physical pleasure out of it.
Where has he gone wrong?
no subject