Finding Order

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Someone wanted this and my only response to that can be: as you wish.

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"Alright team, you know how this works," Donovan said, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the gathering before him.

He turned on his heel and walked down the line. "Our instructions are clear and this will be done in an orderly fashion. There will be no slacking off. No falling behind. This mission will be complete by the end of the day. Is that understood?"

"Sir, yes sir."

Reaching the end of the line, Donovan rotated around and headed back. "I am putting you in pairs. Your job is to keep your partners on course."

When James raised his hand, Donovan stopped and sighed. James lifted his chin and stared beyond Donovan's shoulder.

"Sir, I request not being paired with Clint, sir. He stole my slice of pizza and we are currently not talking to each other, sir." 

Clint smacked James on the back of his head and dodged the retaliating punch to his side. A piercing whistle cut off the brother's full-on fight. Carter stepped up to Donovan's side, arms crossed as she narrowed her eyes at the collection before her.

"Listen up, soldiers," she said. "I'm pregnant and that means you have to listen to me. James you'll work with Brock putting together the crib. Danny, you get to work with Clint to put together the changing station and afterward installing the security cameras."

Danny straightened and snapped a sharp salute while Clint smiled down at the twelve-year-old.

"Donovan and I will be painting the room. Are there any questions?"

"No, ma'am," all three brothers called out, Danny a second behind.

"Good, you have your orders. Get to it."

The assembling broke apart, Danny scurrying to keep stride with Clint, talking all the while. Brock and James joined up and started arguing about who would read instructions and who would do the manual labor. Taking Carter's hand, Donovan tugged her away from the nonsense of his brothers and to the nursery.

The plastic sheeting that covered the floor crinkled under their feet as they stepped into the blank room. Paint cans were clustered in the center of the floor along with brushes and buckets. Carter grabbed a step ladder from the wall and set it up.

"You don't honestly think I'm letting you on that, do you?" Donovan said.

Facing him, Carter put her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised in a challenge.

"Oh, you aren't, are you?" she said. Donovan was impressed Carter could make one question sound teasing and like a threat all at once.

"Carter, I'll do the top edge."

"Donovan, I'm pregnant not an invalid."

She had a point but Donovan still felt protective. At four months and wearing one of his t-shirts, Carter didn't even look pregnant but she was and since finding out that she was carrying another life, he had wanted to shield her from everything. More than ever before. To his annoyance, Carter was having none of it.

Proving this point, Carter got her bucket of paint and climbed into the ladder. Knowing there was no fighting her, Donovan went to work on the walls. The small room quickly filled with the scent of paint as layer after layer was spread on the wall.

When Donovan got close to where Carter stood on the ladder, she leaned down and dapped his face with the end of her paintbrush, leaving a streak of yellow on his cheek. He jerked back which made her laugh.

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