gunsforhire | LOG: Sunny Sky Lunches

Who: Florida (Native), OPEN
What: Florida has a little picnic for him and his friends
Where: Reid Gulch Park
When: Saturday, 3/12
Warnings:

The days when he doesn't have work or information to collect are so rare. Florida would have thought that taking less kill jobs would mean more time for himself, but between watching out for Tex's family, trying to be there for his girl, and everything going on with the team lately, getting out and about has been hard. So today, on his afternoon off, he decides there is only one right thing to do: enjoy the time.

He packs up a large picnic lunch, sends out messages to his teammates, Sigma, and dear little Wash from another world, and heads out to the park. With him he takes all sorts of foods, games like ring toss, a few toys for Rex, and a book for himself in case no one decides to show up. And once he arrives at the park he finds a nice sunny spot to lay out his gear, updating the messages with a gps marker in case people decide to join him.

That done he takes out Rex's frisbee and gives it a toss to watch the now full grown dog frolick off for his toy.

Today is going to be a good day, with or without company.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Then seek someone else," Florida shrugs. "Someone on your own. That isn't about them. Someone you don't have to..."

There must be difficulties like this. "I'm sorry if my presence makes you uncomfortable. If it helps, I like you better than the Wash I know. You're more... realistic."

Wash shakes his head. "No. No, honestly, you've been great," Wash says honestly. "You actually treat me like an individual, not a glitching copy of someone." They've got over it mostly, at least York seems to have, but it's still an uncomfortable feeling.

"Each person is a carved piece of wood," Florida notes. "Even if the shape it is pushed into is the same to the casual eye, looking close shows why each should be cherished for itself. The grain of the wood, the specific color. Where did the knots and gnarls make the wood harder and more difficult to shape? Where did the artist's chisel bite a little too deep, or not deep enough? Every man is their own man, different and important, to be viewed in what makes them themselves."

That makes him smile. "I'm an information broker, a spy, and a former top-notch assassin. I never would have gotten anywhere if I couldn't view a person for who they are rather than who they were, want to be, or might be like."

"That's very poetic," Wash says, smiling slightly. It works as an analogy though. The other Washington hasn't been through what he has, and god, Wash hopes he never has to.

"Well, I appreciate it anyway. Made things a whole lot easier to deal with."

"Poetic? No way," Florida laughs, shhaking his head. He is so not.

"Really poetic," Wash insists. "Maybe you should take it up."

"The only craft I do is knitting," Florida smiles. "And cooking. The rest can suck itself."

"That's very pragmatic," Wash says, matching Florida's smile. "And hey, I know nothing about poetry so..."

"Oh so the flattery falls flat," Florida says with dramatic woe. How he suffers.

He has to laugh at that. "I'm just saying, don't think I'm some kind of expert. I'm not gonna be judging any contests anytime soon."

"What a shame," Florida pouts. Too easy to make this sad guy smile. "I was counting on you in my corner next competition day.

"I will definitely be there, cheering you on," Wash says. "Maybe we could bump off one of the actual judges and I'll take their place."

"A man after my own heart," Florida laughs. "Alas, I think Tex might do both of us in if she heard me say that."

"If you want something doing, you should do it yourself," Wash replies. "Yeah, that sounds like a Tex thing to do."

"You know her back where you are from?" Florida asks curiously.

"Well yeah. She was one of the team. She was..." He clenches his hands for a moment and grits his teeth, feeling the press of memories before he can push them back. "She was one of the Freelancers."

"Makes sense," Florida admits. "She's a great mercenary."

"I bet she is. She was top of the leaderboard from the moment she was brought in." No-one else could stand against her.

"She's a beautiful force of nature," Florida smiles, shaking his head. "And impossible to pin down."

He opens his mouth to protest that, but it's not the time or the place. He smiles instead and shakes his head. "Yeah, she really is. Kicked all our asses at one time or another."

"Sounds like her.... She left."

Florida sighs. There's a part of him that expects she isn't coming back.

He winces at that, and looks down at the ground. "She- she does that." He remembers that. "She doesn't like saying goodbye."

Florida freezes at that. "She didn't say goodbye. Because she's coming back."

Wash looks up at him, and then nods. "Yeah. You know her better than I do anyway. She'll come back." She hadn't said goodbye so of course she'd come back.

"She will," he tells himself. He has to believe it.

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