7694/Mysterious and Spooky=Bobbi and Lance hold a housewarming at their new home, the Addams Estate.

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Mysterious and Spooky=Bobbi and Lance hold a housewarming at their new home, the Addams Estate.
Date of Scene: 04 September 2021
Location: Addams Estate
Synopsis: Bobbi and Lance hold a house warming and put together IKEA furniture with friends while getting drunk and discussing some absurdities of their job.
Cast of Characters: Bobbi Morse, Lance Hunter, Melinda May, Clifford Secord, Jemma Simmons




Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The quiet town of Salem, just north of New York City, has a quiet neighbourhood that curls around a beautiful lake. Pristine waters and large blocks of land. This is where The Addams family has come to stay. Well not really, just another joke from Bobbi and Lance. They needed a cover identity so that people couldn't track them down in their civilian life too easily.

    Welcome to the home of Morse-Hunter, or Hunter-Morse, .. Addams is just easier. occupants: 4. Bobbi, the Inhuman, Lance, the Human, and Jacob and Nona the two Belgian Malinois puppies who are extremely excited by absolutely everything.

    The house overlooks the backyard which fronts on to the lake itself, the view spectacular. Parked on a slab is a quinjet and surrounding the the home and the block is thick forest New York state forest. Today, the house is open for their friends and colleagues. But at a price.

    Ikea furniture assembly. There's still some to do and the flatpack boxes of pieces are in the living room space where the alcohol and tools also are. There's also snacks and dips. Crackers and hummus is what Bobbi is choosing to nibble on today.

    Bobbi is dressed rather casually, blue jeans and a yellow t-shirt. She was always told as a kid, you're blonde, you can't pull off yellow. To them she says, hah! I don't care. The mockingbird uniform colour scheme seems to be creeping in to her every day life.

    There's also rumour of a secret room in the house....

Lance Hunter has posed:
The house was a bit of a change from Hunter's flat in Salem all decked out in Liverpool FC merchandise, but by the smile on his face as he greets their guests it's a good change in his books. Like Bobbi he's dressed casually, a red Liverpool jersey and a pair of jeans, beer in hand. One of their dogs, Jacob trying his best to sniff and his beer.

"Not for you, mate. Go find Nona," he tells the dog patting his side and giving him a little push towards his sister.

Melinda May has posed:
May promised Bobbi she'd come to the house warming. Even if it did include IKEA furniture. She brings a nice bottle of wine with her, to be put in the wine fridge... cellar... rack... whatever. And a 6-pack for sharing. Her own attire is casual, though decidedly darker. Blue jeans instead of black, however. Red top. Still dark. "Nice find," she says, looking about the place with a hint of a smile on her face. "Love the landing pad..." There's a bit of a dry tone at that last, but still humour in it. Figures a spot for a quin would be a priority.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     To be fair Clifford hadn't made any promises of even attending, but he wasn't about to miss an opportunity to attend a housewarming. He's brought with him a very nice looking home baked loaf of bread and a brand new knife to cut it with the best combination he could think of for a housewarming to be fair.

     He's dressed in his usual leather jacket and perfectly wind swept hair with those tan pants that could practically pass for part of his superhero uniform already. Was he ever out of uniform? Not really. "Perfect place for hosting." Added as he looks the place over.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Nona was following Bobbi around like a puppy, because she is one with big big paws she's yet to grow in to, but then people started arriving so sorry Bobs, there's more important things to do like jump on May's leg excitedly, little tail wagging about like crazy.

    This is a bit of a strange place for May in that Bobbi lived here in the Framework. Same land, same house - very different decor. Also no Quinjet Prime on the landing pad. She grins to May and accepts the wine, "Thanks for coming. Welcome to Casa Addams," she motions with an arm.

    "Though you don't really need the tour you've been here plenty already." What is striking though, for a framework survivor who has been here before, is how dull the memories of the framework seem in comparison to the real deal. Colours in the real world here are more vibrant, so are the smells and sounds. The lush grass and the swish of the trees in the wind. It's enchanting, but also drives home the point that the framework merely told their brains what they were experiencing was real; it didn't need to simulate every detail when the brain would just gloss over the lack of it - just like in a dream.

    "Nice," she says inspecting it, "Did you pick because you want to try it now or is this a save for later kind of bottle?" She smiles as Cliff arrives, "Hey Rocket Man."

    Does the Mockingbird ever really turn off? well, yes, when shit gets far too real. But right now she's quite happy which is probably a good thing for May. "Bread. Excellent. Did you make it yourself?" Why is it all the people from the past have the best recipes?

Lance Hunter has posed:
For his part Hunter only saw the back of this place in the Framework when he tried to contact Bobbi, so for him it is simply home, even if he has a pretty good scope on the access points and all the rest of the security features from his in Framework scouting. Today he's just playing host, his beer is set down as guests arrive, "May," he greets as the woman arrives. "And Cliff, good to see you mate," he says before glancing to Bobs. "You'll have to excuse her, she's always making up nicknames for people, it's a thing," he says with a teasing if affectionate smile for his wife. Back to Cliff, he says, "Come in, take a load off, and I hope you're handy we're getting you lot to help put together our stuff." He nods to the boxes of Ikea flat pack around the living area.

Melinda May has posed:
"You can save it for later, if you'd like," May tells Bobbi, bending down to give Nona a scritch and real smile. Some things will actually break through the Ice Queen's walls. "The beer, you can share."

When she straightens and looks around she gives Bobbi a wry smile. "No, I don't suppose I need the grand tour. Though I'm glad to see you've redecorated." In a manner of speaking. Yes, it's good those 'memories' are somewhat faded.

"Hunter." She returns the greeting easily enough, glancing over her shoulder as Cliff makes his way in. She gives him a simple nod in greeting, moving to inspect one of those boxes. "I suppose this means hours of allen wrenches and obscure line art..."

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "To be honest I'm far more at home with an airplane then I am with IKEA, but I think I can make an exception this one time." Clifford lets out a light chuckle before flashing a smile of those perfectly pearly white teeth. He makes his way in tossing the basket of bread from one hand to the other lightly. "Yes in deed I did, made it myself using my grandmothers recipe, she always said that if you want a house to be a home you need bread." He chuckles for a second. "Though sometimes I get the feeling she might have meant dough." He rubs his fingers together moving over towards one of the boxes as he sets down the basket of bread.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi gives a wry smirk at Lance and then she doesn't miss a beat, "One beer coming right up." She has tall glasses just for this and pours one out of a bottle. Not that crap that Peggy drinks either but good micro brewery beer from Salem. She offers the beer to May and then takes the bottle of wine to a closet which turns out to be a stair case down to a wine cellar. A small one though.

    Nona likes the attentions for a beat which is a lifetime for a pupper, then runs over to sniff Cliff because he's brought with him all kinds of interesting smells. Bobbi comes back up the stairs and says, "Yes, a lovecraftian but not-racist horror that is Ikea furniture assembly instructions."

    Bobbi takes an allen key out of her pocket and twirls it around her finger like a gunslinger, "But it's all good, we're going to get smashed doing it." Her cocky little grin promising much alcohol for the afternoon and evening. Thank goodness they have spare rooms for friends to crash in.

    Bobbi says to Cliff, "Your grandma sounds like a hoot." She grins and then pours out a beer for Cliff, "Here you go old timer, it'll help the bones and your bad back, and whatever other aches and pains the nazis gave you." In another 50 years she'll have to suffer age-related jokes too.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Yep, 'fraid so, tried to pawn off all the assembly on Mack but he was smart enough to come up with an excuse not to come... something about fixing something on the helicarrier," he says with a roll of his eyes. "Anyhow, like Bobs says, we'll get smashed while doing it, so might not be all bad."

He joins Cliff in checking out the boxes. "Well might as well start with this one," he says as he bends down to lift a box which apparently contains the parts to their glass coffee table. "Not sure handling glass is something we'll want to be doing a few beers in."

He moves it to the side of the room and sitting against the wall he starts to take out the parts as well as the vague as hell instrutions.

Melinda May has posed:
May takes the beer and snirks softly at Bobbi's pronouncement of drunkeness to follow. "And you expect your furniture to hold up after that?" Brave woman. Nonetheless, appreciating the fact that the beer *isn't* Smithwicks, she raises her glass to her hosts before taking a sip.

"Okay," she says after she's swallowed. "Let's do this." She lets the boys tackle the table. There's a bookshelf she can worry about. And probably get Bobbi to heft upright when it gets to that point.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
A pair of red sand shoes hit the pavement outside the Salem home. The wearer of said shoes, a slightly tardy Jemma Simmons, may have decided to drive herself over. Well, that might be the excuse she gives. Though, most likely, she was in the lab again and lost track of time. That...would be the actual truth.

Along with the red canvas shoes, Jemma wears a pair of blue jeans and a polka-dot blouse, a white with red and blue dots. It is certainly a departure from her normal attire of safety glasses and labcoat, but really, pretty much a Jemma standard.

Brown eyes take in the house, with the name of Addams printed on the letterbox. A soft chuckle escapes her throat as a single word comment finds voice as well.

"Cute."

However, promises of poorly assembled furniture and socialization outside the lab were made. And, Jemma intends to keep them. Onward, into the house proper. "Sorry I'm late. I...got caught in traffic."

Smooth, Simmons. Real smooth.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Clif takes the beer and gives another friendly smile. "Oof right in the pride, you know you're supposed to support and respect your elders don't you?" The smile grows bright and cheerful as he downs some of the contents before assisting with positioning of the table. He slides it down into place looking over the instructions with a bit of visible confusion crossing his face.

     "You know I heard the jokes but this is my first time seeing Ikea in person." He admits with a chuckle turning his head to one side before he starts to piece together the puzzle in his head.

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi has moments flash through her mind at all the various coffee tables, chairs, regular tables, windows, doors, and cabinets that have been destroyed in fights over the years - usually with a person thrown in to it; herself or her adversary.

    Her eyes snap back to May and she laughs, "I'm sure it'll survive long enough to break someones fall." She turns her head to the door and Jacob puppper runs up to bounce at Jemma's legs. "Jemma," Bobbi exclaims, "Come in, grab a drink, help us put together furniture."

    She joins May in assembling the book shelf. She is also enjoying the beer in a tall glass and says. "How are you though? you seem more relaxed since the vacation. I know I am." Because their heart to heart conversation was more than just words.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"C'mon flyboy, come help me with this table," Hunter says to Cliff before waving to Jemma. "Just in time to give a hand, don't suppose the DWARFs can use allen keys can they?" he asks with a grin. "There's beer and wine around and don't feel you have to do this sober," he offers the scientist with a smile.

Attention turning to the box table he glance at the instructions and frowns. "Bloody useless," he says. "We're winging this one, Cliff," he tells the man as he begins finding parts to put together.

Melinda May has posed:
"Mm," May says briefly to Bobby's inquiry. "I'm more... receptive, since then," she tells her. She absorbs external emotions more easily. Fortunately, she also seems to be able to separate them from her own a little more easily, too. It helps.

Truthfully, she still has a lot of anger underneath everything. And she may always do -- she doesn't have Lily Chen's lifespan to work it out, after all.

"I suppose it's helped, some." Which is May-speak for 'yeah, doing okay'. She gives a small chuff of a chuckle. "It helps that I'm not currently being literally dragged through Hell and back."

She reaches out for her own beer and lifts in in greeting the Jemma before she takes a sip. "Better late than never, Jemma." Yes, there actually is a hint of congeniality beneath that.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "Now that's what I like to hear Cliff offers a bright grin one ear to the other. He flicks an allen key round his finger before getting down to business looming over the bits and pieces of what will hopefully eventually make up a table. The man clearly has no clue what he's doing, but he's at least excited to be doing it all the same. "There ain't a guidebook for everything in life." Spoken as he chooses to completely ignore the guidebook setting on the ground now, opening more packaging.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
"Oh, I do not think you would want the drones to have anything to do with assembling. Unless, of course, you wish to increase the level of difficulty to assemble a dresser." Jemma would say more, but then she is almost bowled over by an eager puppy, and no one can resist petting puppers. Even British scientists.

Jacob gets all the attention and loves it. And Jemma is willing to provide it.

A break in petting allows Jemma to take quick inventory on who is doing what. "It appears you are already paired off. Maybe I should start on something new?" The gaze breaks away to see just what else needs to be assembled. "Anything in particular you want first?"

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi glances over at Lance and grins, "Uh oh, the boys are going rogue." She looks at the instructions for the book case. How can something so simple be described so incoherently? Where's Fitz when you need him. "Yeeeeah. I'm not sure how I feel about you having been dragged to 'hell'. For one thing, I don't believe in god and heaven and hell, so.. I suppose I would say you went 'somewhere' that people might consider hellish?"

    "But also the general, ... being dragged to some horrifying place. At some point we have to put a stake in the ground and say here, but no further... beyond this limit the world shall simply have to burn." She smirks a moment; as if any SHIELD agent would ever truly draw that line. Well, Lance might.

    Bobbi offers Jemma the IKEA instructions for the bookcase May chose to start on and Bobbi is joining in with. "I think it's fair to say that all of us here know what a book case is meant to look like. We can do this without the scribblings of an insane alien." Bobbi knows all about the scribblings of insane aliens.

    Nona, the other puppers, sees that Jacob is getting pats and stops sniffing IKEA box contents and runs over to jump all over Jemma too. "There's no rhyme or reason to IKEA instructions Jemma, which means there should be no rhyme or reason to how we group ourselves. Besides, you are clearly about to show who you love more - Lance.. or Me.." Oh how cruel. She doesn't mean it at all, she's just being silly. And sipping her beer.

Lance Hunter has posed:
Grinning at cliff Hunter says, "Knew I liked you," he says as he continues to guestimate how the table legs fit to the frame. "So, what's it like? Flying that jet pack of yours?" he asks.

Though the mention of Hell has him turning, "What like actual hell, not just Peterborough?" Rated worst city in the UK three years running. "When this happen?"

Though Bobbi's remark isn't missed. "She clearly loves me best, Bobs. UK pride all the way."

Melinda May has posed:
May lays out the pieces and starts looking at the fasteners to see which ones look like they'd fit which holes. "Come join us here, Jemma," she suggests. A scientist likely won't go amiss -- whatever the flatpack they're tackling. Besides... she has always openly prefered Bobbi to Lance. That's no secret.

"Hell. Underworld. Crazy Land of the Dead. Screwed up alternate dimension. Yeah. I don't care what you call it," May says. "Next time, it's WAND's job. Or ARMOR's. Not STRIKE's." Oh, yeah. Her AAR was scathing about that:

    "RECOMMENDATIONS:
    - Increased field training and deployment of WAND agents to accommodate 084 missions of a clearly occult nature. Increased ARMOR support for field operations involving pandimensional transit. STRIKE is both inadequately equipped and inadequately prepared for incursions of this nature and should be reserved for active field engagements."

In other words... Leave her out of it.

"They told us it was an 084 event. They didn't tell us it was a Loki-level psychopomp invasion." Yep. Still grumpy about that.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Cliff's about to respond when the talk of going to literal actual hell is brought up. It brings him a long moments pause as he looks from one face to the next unsure of what quite to say about that whole situation. He raises an eyebrow and starts to say something before simply stuffing a beer in his face and sucking down some of the contents in thought while putting a table leg strut right where it looks like it should go.

     "Well, closest thing to heaven I'll ever get. Tell you that much." He holds his hand out to one side. "It's the one time that the whole world just makes sense, when I can feel like I'm at home."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The puppy patrol pounces! And Jemma topples over, though giggling as she goes down. It would appear that it was rather willingly, and the doggos are just that much more excited that hey, the lady is on the same level as us! Let's get her!

Needless to say, Jemma will probably need to shower later to fully cleanse herself of the doggy slobber.

The sudden puppy attack buys her a reprieve from having to choose, at least for the time being. And...she misses the commentary about Hell...or whatever it is that May said she experienced. Because, Jemma might have had some opinions about that. Possible atheist-leaning opinions....

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi's eyes lock with Lance. A battle! just like who Nona and Jacob love more. "Can you really call it UK pride when you enjoy a nice cup of coffee with me eeeevery day?" She grins at her man and then looks back to the work she's doing with may. "Loki-level psychopomp invasion. Huh. I really don't want to know. SPOT definitely doesn't want to know either. But it sounds like some WAND expertise could have helped you a lot."

    "Clearly WAND needs a better leader and more capable agents. Ones with the oomf and to get the job done and the smarts to learn how to be a proper agent at the same time. The only WAND agents I've actually met walk around with weird props claiming they can 'feel the energy levels' or some crap."

    Bobbi gets brave and starts to connect pieces of wood to other pieces of wood.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"Sounds great," Hunter replies to Cliff. "Close as I've got is using one of those wing suits, but that's just falling slowly with a bit of gliding thrown in for spice."

The talk of Hell gets a shake of a head from Lance. "Yeah, probably best I don't hear about that. Things have been plenty weird enough 'round here as is. We do need some better folks in WAND though, I mean Croft might well be the only one that I've met that's field agent material."

"Occasionally!" Lance counters about the coffee thing. "Honestly, making up stories like that..."

Melinda May has posed:
"No argument here," May says. For a while there, she was afraid she was going to be tapped for that job. She is NOT SAD to have been appointed to STRIKE instead. Nope.

She moves to support the wood while Bobbi works the allen wrench, reaching briefly for a swallow of beer. "Pezzini's got promise," she adds to Hunter's comment on Croft. "Prescelta, too, I suspect." It's just a niggling half-memory in the back of her brain. For sure, though, she knows the girl is willing to make the effort. That's half the battle. Besides, she's no worse than Daisy was in the beginning.

"Don't suppose it's really our problem, at the end of the day. Peggy and Fury can hash it out."

Clifford Secord has posed:
     Cliff takes another long sip of beer enjoying the hard work of putting a table together without instructions. He squints his eyes a bit before sticking together a few more bits and bobs muttering. "How complicated does a table have to be." Under his breath.

     "Never used the wingsuits, those came a little after my time, but I hear good things about the handling." He pauses for a moment to sip another drink of beer. "Problem with my rocket pack is all the steering is in the helmet."

Jemma Simmons has posed:
WAND. That particular branch simply would not work with Jemma. Mainly because she would send far too much time attempting to debunk *everything* and attempting to explain in scientific terms. But, she does not chime in on the conversation. At least, not that one. She has other things to worry about.

Such as how Lance will feel as Jemma finally picks herself off the floor, gives each dog another pat on the head, then shifts to join Bobbi and May on their quest to construct the bookshelf. There is an apologetic shrug sent to Lance's way. "I am dreadfully sorry, Lance. But, Bobbi is my mentor. It would be only proper that I return the favor and help her."

Then, as an aside, Jemma adds. "She may be most likely to need it."

Oh! It seems that Jemma did learn a thing or two from one Agent Hunter. Like...how to use her mouth to get herself into trouble...

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    "Sure, they can hash it out - but it's us they listen to. All the level eights. If Phil has no opinion, and Hand has no stake in it...." She shrugs her shoulders and works on the next piece of wood until they have.. a frame. It's a start. One deserving of a long pull from her glass of beer.

    "Nona, Jacob," she says with a small whistle, "go play outside." The two puppies pause and look attentively to Bobbi and then together they bound out through a doggy flap on the back door, nipping playfully at each others ears along the way. The framework taught her how to train dogs.

    "So sorry Jemma," she says with a chuckle. More like sorry not sorry. She looks back to May and says, "Remember how we both swore we'd never take a level 8 position? and yet here we are." She huffs and says, "If only time travel were an easy thing, we could go back and warn ourselves."

    She can't help herself, she says over to Cliff and Lance, "When they said 'use your head Cliff' they were being really literal?" She grins. An eyebrow is raised to Lance as Jemma comes to help May and her with the bookcase. "Heey.. May would never steer me wrong," she says with a grin. This 'living in a house with Lance' thing is really doing wonders for both their general demeanors.

Lance Hunter has posed:
"You steer with your head? Guess that cuts down on the sightseeing huh?" Hunter ventures with a smile. "Got to be a way to upgrade that these days. Bobs and May have both done some flying without planes, maybe they can give you some suggestions."

Jemma's joining May and Bobbi is met with shrug and a grin for her comment, to which he replies soto voice. "Not wrong."

"Well some poor bastard will end up with the job eventually, just glad it's not going to be me. Definitely never taking a level 8 spot, if they'd be daft enough to offer it to me in the first place."

Melinda May has posed:
"Watch it!" May snaps at Jemma, though there's no teeth behind it. Just a dark look that promises the young woman a month of very early morning, very intense training sessions... likely in inclement weather. "Both of you."

She snirks at Bobbi's comment about time travel. "Been there. Done that. Doesn't work." Or, at least, she knows it gets you in a whole helluva lot more trouble than she ever realized before. Briefly, she twists the black band on her left wrist to loosen it against her skin. It's really nothing more than a slightly-too-wide fitbit, to look at it.

She sits back on her heels, making room for Jemma to lend her expertise, since she thinks she's so much better at this. "Maybe you just need to upgrade the whole rig, Cliff," she tells the rocketteer. She rises to her feet and reaches again for her beer, retreating a step or two and gesturing for Jemma to step in.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "What can I say, it's how I keep head and shoulders above the competition" He chuckles to himself taking a step back from the table to just look over his hard work for a few moments thinking to himself as he sips back some more of the beer. "There's got to be a way, but I haven't figured it out yet." He leans back slightly on the balls of his heels. "There's speed controls on one hand and an on off control on the other, and that's about all I've had since 38."

     He nods his head looking over towards may as he tips the glas her direction. "Might be time to overhaul the rig a little bit." He chuckles to himself as he moves back towards the table setup. Looking over the table with a good deal of interest.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
Oh....Jemma knows that look. That doesn't bode well for her future. But, as of now, Jemma just goes with it. "I wasn't insinuating anything harmful." Because leave it to Jemma to ruin a perfectly good joke by trying to explain it.

As for helping. Well, Jemma never said she was any good at assembly. However, she might have at least a little of skill. After all, one doesn't spend the amount of time with an engineer that Jemma has with Fitz and not pick up at least a little sense of what an allen wrench is to be used for. The directions may be cryptic....but that never stopped Jemma before. She is a genius. "Surely it cannot be that hard..." The directions are reviewed.

Then...flipped over, because obviouslyit was upside down. Jemma thinks...

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    The bookcase is complete. Yet there are pieces left over. All that time Jemma is studying the plans the other two have managed to put it together. Bobbi stares at the extra pieces, "Why are there extra pieces," she says voicing the obvious and pressing question.

    "May be it's a European thing, like Lego, always throwing in extra bits just in case you need it, or as a little gift slash surprise.." either way she gathers them up in to one of the small cardboard boxes and finishes off her beer. She wanders over to pour herself some scotch and asks, "Anyone want some whiskey?"

Lance Hunter has posed:
Nodding Hunter says, "Well, SHIELD can likely help with that," he says of adjusting the jet pack.

As for the table it's mostly together now? just need to put the glass on it. "Wanna do the honours or shall I?" he asks Cliff.

Turning to look at the bookshelf he says, "Well we'll find out if it's bonus pieces or not when we try to put books on it." Then to Jemma. "Maybe try sideways?"

Melinda May has posed:
May arches a brow at Bobbi. Whiskey. Why is that even a question? "Please," she says, downing the last of her own beer. She sets her glass aside and looks at the two pieces of assembled furniture. "It's a good thing you expect this stuff to collapse," she tells the pair who own it. "Refinished thrift store pieces would be sturdier." If a whole helluva lot more mismatched.

Yep. Not her stuff. She can be philosophical about it all.

Jemma Simmons has posed:
The directions are tossed over Jemma's shoulders. Hey, if Bobbi says the bookshelf is done, then it's done. You just don't question it. "I suspect you will find out fairly shortly if those extra pieces are accidental or not." Maybe it will fall apart after everyone leaves. Or perhaps one can combine the extra pieces into another piece of furniture. Two for the price of one!

"Well, considering the furniture I have was either provided by SHIELD or printed via the three dimensional printer, I would not be the one to tell you if extra pieces are a commonplace occurrence." At least Jemma is honest about it.

Clifford Secord has posed:
     "Well being as if it breaks and I'm the one to put it together you're the one who has to live with her, I think it's best for both of us if I take that bullet." Cliff offers with a bit of a smirk as he sets down his empty beer glass, before grabbing the glass table top. He lifts it with care and sets it down with a light touch setting it into place. After all how hard could a table be to put together?

     Apparently not that hard as it seems to hold together perfectly steady if not a bit wibbly wobbly when you apply a bit too much pressure to it. He steps back patting lance on the back. "Well good news, I don't get run out on a rail."

Bobbi Morse has posed:
    Bobbi smirks over at Lance and shares with him, "Everyone's a critic." Whiskeys are brought back for those that wanted them. She grabs the next thing, a chair, and opens it up for the team to work on. It's certainly a pleasant afternoon of manual labour, but really just bonding with friends outside of the daily peril that is their job. The biggest risk here is a cut from a box cutter. Evening it's barbeque time and more drinks. People come and go.. but it's true, the house does feel more alive and lived in just by the presence of friendly boots on the ground.