Michaela was maybe the one person who called him sweet, and it always brought a pleased heat to Art's cheeks. "Oh, well, it ain't no big thing," he said with a self-effacing shrug. "I just thought since you're goin' on the road, y'know, you might be needing some essentials." Joining her on the sofa, he rested the basket on her lap and smoothed back the uneven layers of tissue paper so she could see what was inside.
He'd spent a whole afternoon and evening scouring the internet for just the right things. Marian had this nifty little doohickey called a VIP, made it so nobody could track you down over the web, it was great. (Art's online shopping had risen precipitously since she'd explained it to him.) Sitting on the top of the jumble of objects was a rose-pink tube of lipstick, which he picked up. "Right, so this here. Looks like a tube of lipstick, yeah? Wrong!" He whipped away the lid, revealing a spray nozzle where the cosmetic should have been. "Pepper spray on the sly. Some James Bond shit, eh?"
Under the not-lipstick was a coiled bundle of lightweight, multicoloured paracord. "Rope," Art explained. "Always wanna have a good bit of rope on hand, never know when it'll come in useful." Number one survival tool, was rope. You could use it to secure your stuff, replace a boot lace, fix up a shelter, rig traps, create a tourniquet, tie up your attackers— the applications were endless. Plus, this one was a rainbow!
"Oh, right, now this one," he passed her what looked like a slightly oversized keychain, "'s called a kubotan. Looks pretty on your keys, but it’s military-grade stuff as well. Some joker gets too close for comfort—" he laid a hand over hers, lightly curling her fingers over the plastic so they covered all but the blunted point at the end, "—you c'n him 'em with the point end, see. Or you hold the keys and use it like a whip. And it's legal, even, you c'n take it on a plane!"
Michaela could thank Marian for that. Art'd had it in mind to gift her a folding knife till Marian had reminded him that being in possession of a bladed weapon could get a person into trouble just as quick as out of it. Especially if the cops became involved. Even more especially if that person happened to be black and trans and a woman.
There was still more in the basket, but Art had had to pause a second for breath.