By this point, Beverly basically turned the back room at Van Dyne's into her own personal sewing studio. It was better than converting a bedroom at the house since, well, just making it homey was a work in progress - what with the lack of furniture and all. Recently, that problem had gotten better but at any rate, she'd rather keep work separate from play.
And that also meant it didn't look like a fabric store exploded, at Losers Headquarters.
Swaths of fabric over wooden frames, thread, stuffing, mannequins - cutting tools and embellishments, oh my! She obviously had more than one project going, but that was just fine. In between her home life and sewing life, she also minded COFFEE for Clint in exchange for archery lessons. Those were going well too. Even if she still experienced burning muscles sometimes, because that bow was heavier than it looked and her shoulders. Goodness.
Over the sound of the sewing machine, she heard Richie. "Hey honey," she called back, grinning when she noted that Bille was outside in the shop too; the pup had a distinct corgi walk that jangled her leash. "Come here, I need to get your measurements again." Because he'd let her make him a wedding suit, right? Tux? Whatever he wanted.