gunsforhire | LOG: Making A House A Home

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LOG: Making A House A Home

Who: Florida (Native), Texas (Native)
What: Finally redecorating
Where: Florida's Safehouse Alpha
When: Tuesday Evening, 10/20
Warnings:

It takes weeks to get her to listen enough to help him pick out things, even if it is half-hearted browsing through magazines. It takes almost as long to get her to agree to think of a color scheme for the bedroom they've already set bunkbeds and a bed up in for the visits they earn from the twins and Theta. And the battle to find the right plates for the kitchen is ongoing, mostly because Florida has found that she doesn't want to invest any time at all in that level of home-making. But today, Florida smiles, today is something different.

"Rex please, can't you just listen for a minute and go into the crate?" Florida begs their pup. He doesn't know how, but somehow the earlier streak the sweet creature had shown for his authority seems to have evaporated over time. Sure, he can reprimand Rex when he's truly misbehaving, he can get the dog off of furniture he's not allowed on, and he's just about managed to get Rex to not mope in the guest bedroom when the twins and Theta leave, but that's about it. His authority seems to have disappeared, instead invested with infinitely more loyalty and obedience in his wonderful girlfriend.

The dog, as much as he offers it love and affection and spoils it, is her retainer.

Maybe, he muses to himself, it has to do with how quick he is to roll over on discipline to give the pup treats or belly rubs or play with it out in the smallish outside dome he had made to make the pup more comfortable. Actually, it's almost definitely that seeing as Tex indulges the pet but still keeps an authoritative hand. But maybe it's also that he's home more with Rex. Came with the territory of her needing to be responsible for her family, physically training more, and spending more time out on jobs. Florida's slow scaling back from red-jobs hasn't put him off of his game, of course, but it does mean he's home here, or at base, or at the other house whenever they have the dog there enough to change out equipment and costumes to get information more often. Which leads to pampering.

Damn him, he is getting soft in his age. And right now he desperately needs the dog to listen so that he won't be underfoot when the truck delivering the new furniture, chief of which was the new convertible couch, arrives. That's the only way he's going to get Rex to go out to the dome and stay there for the length of time needed for even Adaptive's speedy movers to get the items into the house with minimal interior contamination. And even then they've got to keep the beastie out there for a few hours after the stuff is inside to make sure the internal filters, which work so much slower than airlocks, to be certain the house was safe enough for extended organic exposure.

Granted it's a perfectly clear day outside so he isn't too worried, but still, better safe than sorry.

"Teeeeex!" Florida calls for her, wondering where in the house she's gotten to. "Get this pup of yours into his crate, he won't listen to me!"

The dog is ALWAYS hers when it's not behaving.

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The seals are open and she's making sure to direct them in quickly and in such a way that all the furniture will fit and be in without any lag time to shove things out of the way. Never mind that they're professionals, but goddamn this is the first set of real furniture she's ever had a hand in purchasing and she wants to make sure none of it is scuffed before it even gets used.

When everything is inside, she's already inspecting every inch of it to make sure the condition is perfect before they're sent on their way.

Florida is happy to send the men on their way, happy to have the house resealed so it can go through an internal decontamination while they inspect everything.

"We can move the stuff we don't need into the garage I suppose," he notes as he moves to inspect the legs of the new end table for the couch. It seemed to be in good shape even though he'd thought it was bumped against something.

"Best place for it and we'll still have room for our bikes." Which really is the most important part there. She could handle some clutter in the living room if her bike would be at stake. She's eyeing the side of their new couch and tests a cushion with the palm of her hand.

"Everything looks like it survived the trip."

"Indeed," he agrees with a joyous smile. "This should go nicely against the main wall, don't you think?"

He smiles and pushes the old couch further away from the lines of travel. "Oh and the armchair should be nearby as well."

"It's going to be my new reading seat," she teases. Which would mean less cuddle time on the couch and she doubts he'd allow that to become the norm.

She's moving to get the garage door. Now's the best time to get the old out of the way since Rex is in the backyard and she's moving to grab some of the older pieces of furniture to tote back there.

Florida does his best impression of Rex whining at that declaration. "Rex will hardly approve."

Then he goes to join her in moving stuff, at least to the garage door. "We're going to have to move the bikes a bit closer to the walls."

"Oh he'll find a way to fit in my lap. I have no illusions of safety there." If the dog didn't, she'd be incredibly surprised.

"Yeah, I'll get them pushed over," she says as she slides past the furniture. She carefully moves each of their bikes towards the wall near the garage entrance so it'll be easy for them to leave later.

"That you, Reina," Florida calls, relieved to have his precious Iris out of the way. Too bad he can't go couch surfing down the small stairs down into the garage. The shelf with all their tools for the bikes is just opposite the door, so no risks please. He squirms past the couch itself and starts to pull it through the door. "Can you climb back and make sure the thing doesn't get caught?"

"You know, you could have stayed on that side and let me handle this one." But she can climb over the couch easy, making sure to bump him lightly on her way through. Once she has a good hold on the thing, she gives him a nod. "Ready."

"I'm impatient in my pleasure to have this," Florida pouts at her, but once she's in place he's happy to lift the couch and move it with her, heading for the open space on the floor.

"You're impatient with your pleasure in a lot of things," she teases and lets him direct where he wants it placed. Once it's there, she's setting it down and quickly moving to the next piece of furniture that needs to be out of the way.

"Wow," Florida pouts at her. "You're really going there? I don't hear you complaining in bed, darling."

How could she be like that? He shrugs and moves to join her. "Get the coffee table."

"I'm not allowed to tease?" she asks with a snort. As if she really would mean something like that.

"I'm grabbing it." She grabs one end of the table and is ready to move it when he is.

"I'm not saying you can't, but wow, I think I'm going to have to pay you back for such a statement today," Florida grins. "Once the house is arranged, I might have to teach you just how patient I am."

He does follow her, and happily takes the end of the coffee table, not that either one of them couldn't carry this on their own.

"I'm not going to complain if you do."

Coffee table moved and the floor unscathed from their furniture moving, she moves on to grab the end tables to add to the pile. "Why did we have to replace everything again?"

Florida has to shake his head. "Reina, this is changing the feel of the house from my place to ours, and that's a good thing. I want you comfortable here. I want this place feeling, on even unconscious levels, like ours."

"I was comfortable before or I wouldn't have brought all of my things here." Besides a few things she left back on base, everything was here. "To me, home is more about who's in it than the what."

That said, she moves towards him and reaches for his hand. "Thanks. For doing this."

"That doesn't mean it's not important to have an environment you can lay claim to," Florida insists, taking her hand. "I never... had the people before this. Home was always a place. A thing. Not a who..."

"Sounds like you've have several 'homes,'" she mutters. By the sounds of it, he owns quite a few properties. "I'm getting used to this whole nesting thing. You're all lucky I haven't started wandering to follow different jobs."

"I've learned that I have several places where I can stay," Florida corrects. "I told you, home was a place. Now it's a person and a place and a feeling. And it's made more secure, from my experience, in the sharing. In the end, this house, right here, this is my home, because it's yours as well."

"I know it's one I plan on coming back to." One of two, since while she hates the place they call home, the people in it make it worth while. "C'mon, we've got a lot more decorating to do before dinner."

Florida reaches out to grab her arm. Grab it and pull her into his arms and just hold her. "You have no clue how good it makes me feel to know I can give you a place to come back to if you ever need to go."

Which matters to him. Giving her something, maybe even a reason, to come back to Gulch.

"So, no doilies on the coffee table?"

She raises a brow when he grabs her and pulls her arm away. Something about that kind of movement doesn't sit well with her with her training. But once he has his arms around her, she relaxes.

"Jobs take me all over and I've had a reason to come back for a while," she murmurs and nudges his shoulder. "Depends on the doillies."

"Work is a good way to see the world," Florida smiles. "I personally love traveling for certain kinds of work. I would encourage it in you as well," he smiles, kissing her neck before pulling away.

"Oh, the most fancy, frivolous, lace delicate doilies ever."

"Trust me, I have. You think I've done all my jobs on Adaptive?" Not even close, but something always brought her back to this craphole of a planet.

There's a sigh at the mental image of those horrid things adorning any table of hers and she shakes her head. "I'll rip them off the tables. Find something better."

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