gunsforhire | LOG: Crappy take out and some beer

Who: Texas (native) and Florida (native)
What: Chillaxing and relaxing. Oh and Florida has some feelings and things to talk about.
Where: One of Florida's safe houses.
When: 5/22 evening
Warnings: Possible adult situations and talk? Will edit this if it becomes a thing.

More scarves. He's saving her a bit by making them for her and she's not sure if she needs to thank him or not for shoving Omega into approaching her to hang-out. If only her brother didn't need that shove in the first place.

She's picked up what passes for Chinese take-out on Adaptive and brings it with her to his safe house. She's packed herself an overnight bag and a few things to occupy her time since she has a feeling he'll be knitting at least part of the night. It sounds like he's being doing a whole helluva lot of that lately and she's not sure what 'frustration' has brought that on.

Her bike is parked in the garage next to his Isis and she enters into the house with only a short knock of warning.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She closes her eyes and rests her head on his shoulder. "As long as they're small and practical. I don't wear a whole lot of sweaters or hats."

"So scarves and socks is what you're telling me," Florida laughs, closing his eyes as well to just enjoy the company.

Bless him for having a deeper couch here.

"Or something. More likely to use those than hats and sweaters."

The knitted look isn't part of her style, usually.

"It's alright," Florida assures her, reaching up to stroke her hair. "I do it for stress relief. Stress relief of a socially acceptable form. And the baking as well."

At least she knows he won't be offended if she doesn't wear any of it. The scarves will see use, but she's not sure about the rest.

"You should clear out some closet space here to keep everything you make then. I don't have a whole lot of space between what I already have and my equipment."

Florida laughs cheerfully at her suggestion. "Brilliant idea, my dear, but I need the closet space for all my lovely toys."

Seriously, where would he move everything? This isn't a place he has ever meant to spend so much continuous time in. Not ever. And yet here he was.

"I donate quite a bit to charities," Florida adds.

"You do have a lot of those," she replies. "Not that I'm complaining. I'll make room for them and if I end up not using anything, you can donate it."

It would at least give the items some kind a purpose.

"I just promised not to make you anything useless," Florida chides her, hand still stroking through her hair. "Besides, I can keep making socks for Wash. He takes them. I think he uses them as cat toys. Asshole."

"Are you surprised? He uses everything as a car toy." Anything that's left out around base has the danger of becoming one. There's a reason she keeps everything in her room.

"Hate cats," Florida grumbles under his breath.

Cats hate him as well. He figures it's fair.

She knows what not to try to drag back here then. Not that she has any real time for a pet.

"More of a dog person myself," she says with a shrug. "As long as the cats stay out of my room, I ignore them."

"Dogs are good," Florida says very quietly, very distantly. He hasn't dealt with a dog in a positive way since...

Well, a very long time.

She opens her eyes enough to glance at him. It's clear there's more to it than that, the question is whether he wants to elaborate.

"The way you're saying it, they don't sound good."

"Beyond the dogs I've had to deal with on missions, I love dogs," Florida answers.

He doesn't trust himself with them.

"I had a dog once," he says, very quietly. "His name was Fluffles."

"I've never had the chance to have one." Moving around would do that, unfortunately. She closes her eyes once more and settles against him.

"Do I want to know what happened to Fluffles?"

LOG: Crappy take out and some beer

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