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Item(s): One (1) sofa, identical to the one ruined during The Deadpool Incident. (This is what Hips is now calling that in her head. There might even be a trademark symbol at the end of that.) Additional: Two (2) new end tables, two (2) new lamps, floor and table type, one (1) large-screen hi-def television, one (1) surround sound system.

The living room is now movie central.

Item(s): Ten (10) cookbooks, suitable for beginners. In fact, most of them had titles like 'So You're Cooking On Your Own In College!' and the like. She will learn to cook even if it kills her.

Items(s): New clothes (lots) to replace those lost to Bhima and his cloth gobbling ways. For both her AND Ramon. Five full-to-overflowing shopping bags and two garment bags.

In fact...

Once all the other items are in the living room (god bless PINpoints), Hips sneaks into Dez's old room and lays the garment bags across the bed. She unzips the first one to reveal Ramon's new suits. Two perfect and new and shiny suits, perfectly tailored and embroidered for him. She tried to pick embroidery as close as possible to the original, even snipping a golden thread off his last remaining suit to use for a color comparison. (The tailor had stared when she showed him pictures of what she wanted. She ended up telling him they were for a fancy dress party. Yes, all four. Look, I'm paying you, aren't I? Just do it.)

They're all in his dark blue that he loves so much, made out of a light-but-high-quality summerweight fabric. Then she pulls up one of the shopping bags and empties it, pouring out several cravat style ties and, heh, the knee-high stockings he preferred. Those had been the hardest to find. She'd ended up going to a dance supply store for those, and purchased the smallest they had. (And had spent a good deal of time inspecting the toe shoes out of morbid curiosity. Good GOD ballerinas were masochistic.)

Now. How to get the suits in the closet without spoiling the surprise...?

Date: 2006-06-10 06:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
Fuckers.

FUCKERS.

"Oh, my darling. Oh, god, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'll delete it off my computer immediately. "

She doesn't let him go, though. Instead, she starts quietly singing, to try and get that now-horrible tune out of his head. It's the only song that she can think of. And, stupidly enough, it's the song Rimmer always used to sing (badly) to her, when they were first together.

"I’m a little lamb who’s lost in the wood
I know I could, always be good
To one who’ll watch over me

Although he may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key

Won’t you tell him please to put on some speed
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me..."

So silly. But it might help...

Date: 2006-06-10 07:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
As she sings, he relaxes even more into her arms, sighing wearily, eyes no longer squeezing shut, but still staying closed.

Slowly, his arms and posture aren't held as taunt and he's all but hanging off of her as her tune helps to dissolve the one that had barged its way into his mind and burrowed into his brain.

"...M'sorry. Th-That was...foolish of me. Overreacted, so sorry..."

Date: 2006-06-10 07:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
"S'okay, love. S'okay. Coming at you out of the blue like that? I'm not surprised you freaked. It's okay."

She starts rocking gently, trying to soothe and keep him from panicking further. Oh, darling... Then that song of hers starts up again, the only words she can remember now. Just almost wordlessly repeating them.

But not humming. Definitely not humming.

Date: 2006-06-10 07:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
"Sorry, feel-...Just feel stupid now, shouldn't have...panicked like that..."

His words are halting and quiet, like he's gradually losing his train of thought as he continues to listen to her singing.

"Shouldn't...have-......"

Date: 2006-06-10 07:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
That singing stops again as he talks. "You don't have to apologize, love. It's okay. Honestly, it is. Hey. Hey. Look at me?"

She frees an arm from around him and then tilts his chin up gently so she can meet his eyes.

"I love you."

Date: 2006-06-10 08:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
He finally opens his eyes when she tilts his head upward, and he just looks tired and embarassed now.

"...I just-...I feel foolish, Hi-Hippolyta. To overreact like that..." He looks over at the ashtray on the floor, the cigarette butts and ash all over the computer. "I...should learn to keep my reactions to these sort of things...less dramatic..."

Date: 2006-06-10 08:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
"Well, yeah," she agrees gently. "But, c'mon, you're talking to the gal who threw a toy at a wall in a temper fit a few weeks ago. It happens, love. We'll keep trying."

She studies him closely and lovingly, trying to show him that she's not upset at HIM. At the doctor, whoever he was, oh, yeah. Pure hate. But Ramon? Not at all.

"We'll clean that up later. Right now I just want you to relax with me for a few. Djehuty taught me some meditation techniques a while ago. Maybe we could do that together, silly as it sounds?"

Date: 2006-06-10 08:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
"...Eh, I...guess so? If you think it'd help. I just, uhm, feel sort of bad that I had to go and ruin a nice moment like that with m-my outburst." He rubs the back of his neck self-consciously, looking down again.

"...I didn't damage your computer, did I?"

Date: 2006-06-10 08:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
"Nah. That's easily clean-upable. Hell, I've spilled an ashtray across my keyboard before. Don't worry. Let's relax first."

She kisses the top of his head again, and hugs him some more. Because, damn, did he need it. And she did, too, frankly. Adrenaline was pumping, sir. Yeah, meditation would be good.

She lets him go slowly, and settles herself into a cross-legged position on her bed next to him. "Here, get comfortable, love. It's mostly just breathing and counting. Sort of a self-hypnosis. It does help."

Date: 2006-06-10 08:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
Feeling just a tad self-conscious, especially after his dramarific outburst, he clears his throat a few times, then crosses his legs the same as her. Then, a deep breath or two to settle down.

"O-Okay. Uhm, what next?" He's fidgeting a great deal and sort of is inwardly concentrating and mulling over the tune Hippolyta was singing earlier. In order to keep a different tune out.

Date: 2006-06-10 08:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
She reaches over and takes his hand, also feeling that wee bit of self-conscious. But if it'd help him relax, then by god she's trying it.

"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath in through your nose. Hold it for five seconds, and then breathe out through your mouth. Like this."

She inhales for five seconds, holds it for five, and then lets it out for five.

"Like that." Her hand tightens in his as she starts the slow count in her head for this. Relax relax relax relax relax...

Date: 2006-06-10 09:03 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
"Mmn. O-Okay."

He shuts his eyes once more, taking in that deep clensing breath. His thoughts are still jangling with terror-laced memories and images of Umbrella's labs, his mind now, against his will, struggling to remember that humming doctor's face. He doesn't want to think about, doesn't want to think about it, doesn't want to...

He hauls his mind to the present, trying to block out those labs, instead concentrating and filling his thoughts with more pleasant, recent things. Thinking about Bhima bouncing on the couch, the Left Hand being stuck with holding his petpet, the simple happiness of Hippolyta restoring some of his old wardrobe. And, most importantly, the feel of her hand holding his.

He slowly lets the held breath out.

Date: 2006-06-10 09:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
While he's focusing on his breathing, she is too... sort of. She's moved her other hand to hold his, and is giving him a gentle massage. Just to keep him there with her. Just for the physical contact.

Deep breath in... slow exhale... deep breath in...

"I'm thinking of our camp on Tropico. At sunset. When it was just you and me and the ocean."

Deep breath in...

"There was one moment there where I looked over at you and thought to myself how happy I was to be with you. It was just perfect."

Slow exhale...

Date: 2006-06-10 09:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
"I-I miss that. Just...not worrying about anything. Just being with eachother..."

Another breath. The memories of Umbrella are stubbornly beginning to dissolve and the more pleasant ones are becoming more solid.

"...B-But I'm glad. I'm glad that, after all this and all that I am, that...I make you so happy. I'll try to never forget that I do..."

Exhale.

Date: 2006-06-10 09:32 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
"Shhh. None of that, not right now. As silly as this sounds, find a happy memory and focus on it alone, love. No expectations. Nothing before or after it. Just a happy memory."

Deep breath...

"Remember how nice the water was, there? Perfect temperature, huh? I'm just remembering how it felt when we went swimming at night together."

Exhale...

She scoots closer to him, her eyes still closed, and her hands run up his arm and onto his shoulder. Giving him a massage there, too. Trying to coax knotted muscles into relaxing. Make his body feel good so his mind can follow suit. Or vice versa. Whichever works best.

Date: 2006-06-10 09:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 8th-castellan.livejournal.com
He blushes and flinches a little by sort of having broken the meditative state of this all with his talk. He almost stammers an apology as well, but no. That'd just make it worse.

Wow, he's bad at this. Nngh. Self-consciousness returning.

But...then she starts with rubbing his arm and shoulder and he relaxes gradually under her fingers.

"Mm. Si, I-...I enjoyed that. N-Nice way to end an evening..."

Date: 2006-06-10 09:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] h-hollister.livejournal.com
"Yeah."

Then, amazingly, she shuts up, focuses on her breathing and his breathing and getting those muscles to relax under her fingers.

In... out...

Now that she's sort of planted the seeds, hopefully his mind will wander to happier places for a while, get that horrible memory and song out of there.

...God. Only Umbrella could ruin something as innocent and goofy as A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum. Fuckers. If Wesker and Krauser weren't available, and she found out who this humming asshole was, he was moving to the top of her hit list.

"Love you. So much."

In... out...

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Hippolyta Hollister

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