chesstotem | Moving Day (for dontthinkabout)

Unfortunately, the day that all the furniture was to be delivered, Arthur got a call from the shipping company saying that the car was coming in today, a couple of days earlier than expected. So he was outside, helping the guy get the car from the shipping truck and into the garage, but it wasn’t proving to be the easiest task. He just hoped Ariadne was having an easier time.

"Please be careful with that, it's expensive equipment!" She was practically hopping up and down, afraid the moving guys would damage her drafting table. "I need it for my work..."

"Chill out, little lady, we got this," one of the guys reassured her, and she scowled a little.

"Just... set it down near the windows. Thank you..."

After the car was nestled in the garage, Arthur signed the remaining paper work and walked back into their detached condo. “Ariadne?” He walked passed a few of the moving men.

"In here!" she called from the master bedroom, where she was now supervising the setup of the bed frame they'd finally decided on. "Yeah, I want it positioned on that side of the room. No, face it the other way. Like that."

Arthur walked up the stairs and to the master bedroom. “Everything going okay?” He asked as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked slightly frazzled.

"Yeah, just... kind of hectic." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Could you go make sure the guys hauling in the sofa don't break anything?"

“Sure,” he replied and gave her shoulder a quick squeeze before walking back down stairs to the living room and surveying the moving of the furniture. Arthur might not be as big and burly as the moving guys, but she still held his own in terms of intimidation.

Ariadne might not've been as good at being intimidating, physically at least, but she did have a way of raising her eyebrows and putting her hands on her hips that had a tendency to cow men who may or may not have had very fierce mothers.

It took another hour or so to get the master bedroom settled, and the spare bedroom as well. Eventually, she wandered downstairs to try and find some Tylenol for the headache she was developing.

By the time she came downstairs, most of the living room was complete with the couches, armchairs, bookcases, and coffee table in place.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ariadne descend. “Hey, everything’s almost done here,” he said as he joined her side.

"Good," she said. "Bedrooms are about done, too. And I think I finally got rid of the last of the delivery guys." She smiled and started digging through her satchel. "Now all we have to do is fill up all the cupboards and shelves with odds and ends and make it look like we actually live here."

He returned the smile and kissed her temple. “Alright.” Most of the boxes were in the kitchen and in the living room, they’d need to rummage through all them. Turning to face her, he could see her eyes straining against the light. “You’ve got a headache, don’t you?” He cupped her face with his hands.

"Mm, just a little one. Nothing some Tylenol won't fix," she said with a little smile. Finally, she found the bottle of pills and went to the kitchen to take them with some water. "We're finally, really home, Arthur," she said.

“I know.” He followed her into the kitchen and began opening the cabinets and drawers with the intention of filling them with the necessary items.

She smiled. "I... think I'm gonna go lie down for a bit. There's no hurry for most of this stuff."

“Sure. I’ll run out to the grocery while you sleep and pick up a few things so I can make us an early dinner if you’d like.” He went to the first box marked kitchen and found the pots and pans from their Paris apartment.

"Okay," she said, smiling at him fondly before heading for the hall and the stairs.

Time to see if their new bed was as comfortable as they'd been led to believe.

When she went upstairs, Arthur continued looking through the boxes and found the cooking utensils as well as some of the plates, glasses, eating utensils Ariadne wanted to save from the apartment. After those were put away, Arthur got his coat on and took the rental car to the store.

The master bedroom was nice and big, with walk-in closets and its own bathroom. Large windows looked out on the beach. There was still a lot to do - decorating, mostly, and putting clothes and things away - but for the moment, she didn't care. This was their place, together, hers and Arthur's.

The bed was large, and it was very comfortable. The ridiculously high thread-count sheets helped, too, of course. Ariadne dozed off in a matter of moments.

Arthur came back an hour later and locked the front door behind him. Placing the bags on the kitchen counter, he began putting everything away in their fridge. Their, he couldn’t help, but smile at the word. Their fridge, their condo, their home.

Letting Ariadne sleep, he started on dinner: steaks (to celebrate) and mashed potatoes. He also picked up an expensive bottle of red wine which he placed in the wine refrigerator under the counter.

Usually - well, back in the apartment in Paris - cooking smells would be enough to waken her. Then again, the apartment in Paris had been tiny. Their new condo was much bigger, and by the time the smells got upstairs to the master bedroom, they were pretty faint. Ariadne just kept sleeping.

When the table was set with the steaks and mashed potatoes on their respective plates, Arthur walked upstairs and into their bedroom. “Ari,” he gently nudged her. “Dinner’s ready.”

She blinked blearily, then smiled up at him before sitting up and rubbing at her eyes. "What'd you fix?"

“Steaks,” he replied and took her hand in his. “And I got a bottle of wine.”

"Trying to woo me on moving day?" she asked with a sleepy grin, letting him tug her out of the bed.

"By the way, I think that bed might be too comfortable. We'll be tempted to just stay there forever."

“Maybe,” he said in reply to her question as he led her down into the kitchen.

“Nothing can be too comfortable.” Arthur pulled out her chair at the dining table before going to get the bottle of wine.

Moving Day (for dontthinkabout)

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