chasingangela | Wednesday Afternoon, Room 304

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Wednesday Afternoon, Room 304

After a morning spent scraping gook out of the mini-fridge in the assistant's lounge, all Angela wants is a nice, hot shower. That, and possibly some time in a decontamination ward.

There isn't a decontamination ward on the floor, so she settles for the shower. Unfortunately, after she steps out of the shower, she's confronted by the pile of stuff she got at IKEA.

The bedspread is easy enough to put on the bed; so are the lamp and the new posters. But the bookshelf and the chair?

She hopes someone will help her put them together before she breaks either the furniture or herself.

[OOC: Her door is open. Come bug her.]

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"Also nothing much," Angela says. "Watched martial arts movies last night. Scraped leftovers gone terribly wrong out of the fridge in the assistants lounge this morning."

She shoves her hands in her pockets and studies the instructions with him. "This doesn't look too hard, I guess. Thanks for the help, anyhow." Then, hesitantly: "Can I ask you something?"

Marty blinks a little. "Uh. Yeah sure," he says as he tries to lay out some of the peices. "What's up?"

Angela takes one of the pieces from him and reverses it, snapping together a shelf. "Um." She says, a little flustered. "Is everything okay? I feel like other than New Years -- which was amazing -- we've been kind of ... not together all that much, lately. And, like, you kiss my cheek all the time, which is fine, but ... I don't know. Not boyfriendish, y'know? I guess I just want to know if we're still good."

Marty hesitated a little before he rolled his eyes and took on a joking tone. "Come on... You mean just because I'm not all over you like Cally on Anders that I'm not being boy friend enough?"

"Not what I said," Angela says, clearly defensive, then forces a slight smile. "I guess I just haven't been in a relationship that lasted this long before, so I don't really know what I'm doing. But if you're happy and aren't, like, suddenly repulsed by me, I'm happy."

She goes back to assembling the bookcase. "Do you see the fourth screw? The instructions say there should be one."

Marty looks at Angela for a second then pushes the instructions the side.

"I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I... I wasn't trying to avoid you or felt repulsed by you. I mean... I'm happy," he says with a catch in his throat.

"Are you?"

"Yes?" Angela says, her own voice catching.

"I just don't want things to be weird between us because of me being old, or whatever. I'm probably just being all oversensitive."

Impulsively, she hugs him tightly. "I need you, you know that?"

Marty returns the hug, maybe hugging little more tightly than he intended too.

"I know. I need you too."

He gives her a kiss on the cheek, then winces a little before soft kissing her on the lips.

"Better?"

"Mmm," Angela answers. "But ... I mean, it's not just about kissing." She sighs. "You know what? I'm being dumb. But we should try and do something datey this weekend anyhow."

Marty gives her small smile. "Sounds good to me. Anyplace in particular?"

Marty slowly lets her go and spies something on the floor. "Ah! The missing screw!"

"Yay, so I won't be ... screwless." Angela seems to register the double entendre, blushing and ducking her head over the chair's components.

"And surprise me on the date. I'm up for whatever."

Marty seems to have totally missed the double meaning and is busy putting together the bookshelf.

"Surprise you? Hmmm... I think I can manage that."

Marty snaps in a couple of parts and squishes his thumb.

"OW!"

"Oh, god, yours too?" Angela says, rushing over. "Let me look at it... I swear this stuff is posessed or something."

Marty scowls a little. "This is what happens when you get furniture from Sweden. It turns on you."

Angela laughs. "Do you have past experience with the Swedish I should be aware of, or something?"

Marty coughs a little and his face goes a little slack. "Nothing you want to know about," he says lightly.

"I always want to know," Angela says, equally lightly. "But I won't ask."

She works in silence for a few minutes, fussing with the cushion covers on her chair.

Marty sighs quietly and snaps together a couple of more parts of the bookcase and tightens them with a screwdriver.

He stands it upright only for it to fall apart in front of him.

"This stuff just hates me. I know it."

"Be nice to it and maybe it won't," Angela says with a shrug. "Here, I'm pretty much done with the chair, maybe I should try this?"

She reassembles the pieces that fell apart and tightens all the screws. Unfortunately, positive energy either isn't enough or she doesn't have any, because it collapses for her, too.

Marty scowls at the bookcase. "Okay... this the part of the building process where we have a hissy fit."

Angela grins, then drums her feet rapidly against the side of the bed. "Dammit. dammit. dammit. this sucks, this sucks, this sucks," she says., then looks at Marty.

"Do you think that's enough, or do I need to curse more or somethiong?"

Marty cracked a smile. "Yes. Curse loudly and often. I think if you turn around three times and spit we'll have thoroughly cleansed the curse of the swedish."

Angela's eyes glimmer as she does precisely this. "Damn. Damn. Fuck it. DAMN," she recites as she turns, ending with a gob of spit.

She means to spit on the floor, but it ends up hitting Marty's shoe. She instantly goes bright red. "I didn't mean to ... let me get you a Kleenex."

Marty dies laughing. He isn't sure whether it's Angela swearing, spinning or spitting on his shoe that does it.

He stops Angela from getting a kleenex and gives her a big hug.

"I love you. You're insane, but I love you."

"That's what I was going for," Angela says, kissing Marty';s jawline. "Well, either that, or 'get away, you crazy person.' But I like your reaction better."

"Want to give the bookshelf another try?"

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