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It's a busy day at one of the many coffee shops around Central Park. On the West side of the Park, just cross the street, a meeting of the local stitch and bitch has started. Which, hilariously, is not at all where Betty Ross intended to be.
She sits in the corner as far away from the crocheters as possible, whilst sipping on a large (bowl?) of coffee. The young Doctor Ross rests her hands on the table and quietly stares out the window, distracted in thought.
On the other side of the room, a woman loudly complains about her husband and his foul smelling socks.
*
Pepper arrives from Central Park.
*
Pepper has arrived.
*
The door to the cafe swings open and, in addition to the pair of people it admits, their conversation comes along with it.
"It is Saturday, Heather. You are allowed a day off," Jean-Paul says in a dismissive tone of voice, one hand resting between the redhead's shoulderblades as he 'helpfully' ushers her into the cafe. "No missing children, no arrogant vikings. Just expensive coffee."
Jean-Paul gives Heather a nudge towards a table before he marches for the counter, peeling his gloves off of his hands. "Now sit. Relax. I will be right there."
*
"There are no days off, Jean-Paul," Heather says dryly. "They're a myth. My mother taught me that much. Weekends are for men and for children…who are hard to tell apart some days." David gets a pass, of course, because he always does.
"If you insist," she says with a sigh as Jean-Paul bullies her into a seat, "If only that worked on the rest of the world," she mutters as he forges off for the counter. "Could get him to order the Koreans to back off and the mob to start behaving itself."
*
Probably all too eager to agree with Heather's words, Pepper is working today, but half exhausted, so coffee it is. Also eager to duck out of the blistering cold wind that's cuttting across the park, the rosy cheeked red head pushes into the coffee shop rather eagerly. Deep breath. Warm interior. Scent of coffee everywhere. Welcoming background music. It felt good. She almost smiles, even if it doesn't reach her eyes, and looks around the place. Heather and Jean-Paul are noted with an arch of a perfectly plucked pale brow, a touch of amusement at Heather's words, but then she sees Betty and she beelines almost straight for her.
"You look even worse than I feel. Don't they ever give you a night off?" Pepper states with the concerned voice of someone who didn't mean it as an insult, but is worried for her friend who she hasn't managed to see since, well… Everything. She begins to unbutton her long black jacket (fur lined collar, of course). Clearly, she is inviting herself to sit.
*
Thoughtfully, Betty's chin lifts and her head turns to bring Pepper into focus. A tired smile edges the brunette's lips and she leans forward in her seat. The smile fades slightly but she forces it upwards again, "I… I don't want to go home." Her nose wrinkles. "It's been a hellish few weeks." She leans back in her seat and shifts along its surface.
The thoughts are followed by a confession, "I've been sleeping in the on-call room of the medical facility I work. And the on-call room at the hospital when I use my residency rights." Her lips hitch up on one side. "Are you alright? I heard something about something at Stark Tower…"
*
As promised (threatened?), Jean-Paul is not gone long. Soon, he's returning to Heather's side with two massive mugs of coffee in-hand, one of which he offers to her. "Of course there are days off. You are simply unwilling to stop caring long enough to take time for yourself," he says with a sigh. "It isn't hard. Difficult," he will allow. "but not hard."
Jean-Paul doesn't sit just yet. He has a hunch. He casts a thoughtful look towards where Betty and Pepper are nearby and sips his coffee, humming softly to himself.
*
"Jean-Paul. You've known me since I was barely out of my school uniform. When in my life have I ever stopped caring?" Heather takes the coffee gratefully and smiles. "You hate it, I know you hate it, but it's who I am. And, honestly, you're the only person who complains."
*
"…She sounds like someone else I know." Pepper remarks, loud enough and with her head slightly tossed to the side, that clearly she's talking to Jean-Paul even though she's giving Betty a slightly accusing glare. Yes, she's using someone else's conversation to make a very public point, but sometimes that's what is needed! Her brows still furrow, clear worry through her tired blue eyes, as she looks over Betty and hears that confession.
"…Yeah, I…I'm fine. Not really even bruised. But, my condo was burned up pretty badly. Tony… ah, Mr. Stark put me in a nice hotel. You should come stay with me there. Whirlpool hot tub. Breakfast service. You need it as much as me." She's trying to sound dismissive of what she went through, treating it like a rather casual, not big deal. Betty worries her more right now.
*
Betty's eyebrows lift at Pepper's point, and her gaze shifts towards Jean-Paul. "Workaholics are a dime a dozen, I suppose." She lifts her coffee to her lips and takes a long soothing drink. Betty's smile curves tighter. "I… just…" she pinches the bridge of her nose. "The General has been reaching out ever since — " her lips purse. "It's fine," she finally manages. "Just the past playing catch up. It's easier to be at work than home alone with my thoughts." Her smile eases somewhat though when she offers, "I'm glad Tony," not Mister Stark at this moment, it seems, "put you up somewhere."
Her lips purse lightly. "I imagine…" she frowns. "I know Bruce had been working with you folks for awhile…"
*
The comment from Pepper is apparently all the invitation Jean-Paul needs. "Heather. Dear heart. We are needed," he says crisply, and he just… invites himself on over to join the other table, sliding right in next to Pepper as if he had belonged there all along.
He cups a hand around one of his pointed ears, eyebrows raising as he peers towards Betty. "Did I imagine it, or are you being encouraged to relax by someone whose home just burned down?" Jean-Paul asks, immediately clucking his tongue. "Something in the water down here. Terrible."
*
"We're needed? Oh, dear…" Heather gets up and has her "I apologize for my friend" speech queued up before she's even made it to the table. "Miss Potts, is it, I'm so…" So sorry you're being accosted by a walking scandal with pointy ears and terrible taste in men… there is no way to say that delicately, no, there really isn't. "…sorry for the interruption. And for your troubles. You'd been doing so much work for the city, you deserve better than such terrible luck."
*
"Yes…yes we are. It doesn't make it any healthier, Betty. Especially when… well… With everything." Yes, the woman whose condo just burned down IS lecturing Betty about relaxing, but she's got that lined, care worn look in her eyes of someone who is truly worried about her friend. And worrying about someone else probably makes things a lot better in her head. Means she doesn't have to focus on her own wreck of a life.
Then Betty dares even speak Bruce's name and her hand comes across the table (she hasn't bothered to get herself coffee yet anyway). She wraps small fingertips over Betty's and gives a gentle, firm squeeze. "Bruce…has been. And he will again. He's a *great* guy… It'll work out. He… he didn't do it. None of the mess at the office was him. It…" Her face falls a bit, a sudden flash of all too clear guilt on her features. "… it was a complicated mess. Things are being cleaned up now." The look on Pepper's face says she directly feels responsible for whatever happened.
Then there is Jean-Paul and Heather. She blinks a bit as they are joined, but a slightly softer smile flickers across her still perfectly red lipsticked mouth. Somehow, exhausted or not, Pepper has *everything* in place. Just so. She waves off Heather's concerns, "It's fine, it happens, truly… We live in a dangerous city. I'm more worried about a certain someone here who doesn't remember the meaning of sleep, apparently." Betty is being given another look. "But… you have to forgive me, I…don't think I know you? I'm Pepper. Pepper is just fine… this is Betty…" Jean-Paul and Heather are given a curious look, but not a cold one. Apparently, they are welcome to stay. If they help.
*
Both Jean-Paul and Heather receive a small nod in greeting, and a polite smile that accompanies the not-greeting. She lifts her fingers at the introduction, especially the mention of her name.
A familiar burning feeling behind Betty's eyes prompts her to blink hard. She forces a very tight, incredibly weary smile. "I…" her chin quivers. Her lips quiver. Her shoulders twitch. She bites her bottom lip and she shakes her head at Pepper's words. "N-no. Bruce won't… Bruce.." her frown deepens. "It's not… he's… he's gone," she finally manages.
*
Introductions? If they must. "Jean-Paul." Heather can introduce herself, she's a big girl. Besides, he's distracted now, peering thoughtfully between Pepper and Betty as he sips his coffee. Does he regret joining a table that is rapidly becoming so emotionally charged?
Nonsense. Regrets are for boring people.
"Oh, dear. Then you really do need to take some time for yourself to relax," Jean-Paul says to Betty, but now his voice is actually gentle, something that seems oddly out of place on him. French-Canadians aren't precisely known for their empathy.
*
Oh, heavens preserve Heather. She sighs and shakes her head. "Heather MacNeil." No one in particular. She takes a seat, not too close, but with a certain degree of resignation. She doesn't comment on Betty's declaration, but she is sympathetic. If this is keeping Jean-Paul off her case about Mac, maybe it's a blessing.
*
The sight of Jean-Paul gets a double look from Pepper and, while she was tired and pale around the edges, the redhead's cheeks suddenly rise with a bit of color. She cannot entirely resist looking him up and down for a moment. Goodness, he was handsome. And she was a single woman now. For a moment, there are clearly less than pure thoughts behind Pepper's eyes, but she shakes them off, "Ah…Jean-Paul. A *pleasure*. Heather." SHe offers gently as well, but then she remembers why she came over here. Betty. Her FRIEND. Her *wrecked* friend.
"Betty…not…Not necessarily. We don't know until…until we know for *sure*. People do a lot of things when they are upset. Bruce is a good man and he cares about you…He… just… Just have a bit of hope. You can' give up. Maybe-" And then JUST as Pepper is saying that, the radio, which was playing the most pleasaant music, suddenly cuts in with an emergency news bulletin.
"Emergency report. There is a…mutant of some sort…monster…" The radio announcer has lost all professionalism. "Reports are that it's twenty feet tall, green, raging…death and destruction headed for Cincinnatus…a natural disaster."
*
"It's not exactly.. we haven't… it's been… just, it is what it is," Betty shoots the trio a tight lipped smile. Although Pepper's mention of causes Betty's forehead to crease. "The note, what he wrote, he's not…" Betty emits a quiet sigh. "He apologized to me. Told me that he was ending it all, and aimed to cease his long-suffering."
But the radio has Betty straightening. Her eyes hone in on the radio and she calls over the stitch and bitch on the other side of the room, "Can you turn that up?!"
*
Jean-Paul does not miss the way Pepper is looking at him. He also seems entirely unbothered by it, as if this is the perfectly natural and expected state of affairs. He flashes her a quick smile and inclines his head, with a lowly-offered "Enchante~" in response.
He is definitely doing it on purpose. Sorry, Heather.
He begins to say something to Betty before she's calling towards someone across the room and he turns in his seat, squinting towards the radio. Jean-Paul taps his fingers against his mug once, twice. He will give it to the count of five, and then if noone else turns the volume up for her…
*
Heather stops as she's about to offer her condolences, then hops up and goes to turn up the radio that's bringing them the news from Cincinnatus. It's strange not to be running off to a helicopter or pulling on her suit to go solve the problem. However, she's sure there will be relevant paperwork on Monday, if she knows SHIELD.
*
The kiss at the back of her palm makes Pepper blush a bit deeper, heavy lashes fluttering a moment or two, "Well…aren't…aren't you charming, Jean-Paul?" She half purrs out, voice dropping into that register she knows drives most men wild. It's just habit! She can't help it. But, the radio carries on…
"Forces from Act-F, SHIELD and the local PD are on the ground in attempts to control this raging monster. No reports of injuries have yet come in, but the large, green individual has already destroyed property and vehicles. Witnesses say the creature seems to be on some sort of enraged rampage and, so far, has not responded to any attempts of reason or diplomacy…" The radio continues, echoing a bit louder across the room now as it is turned up by Heather. The stitch and bitch doesn't appear to be too happy for their pleasant afternoon being interrupted.
Pepper listens for a few more moments, thoroughly distracted from her flirting, her throat tightening as she looks back over to Betty, "Oh, Betty… you don't…think… Well, maybe… Maybe it's a good sign? He's still alive, if it's him…"
*
"Someone has to be," Jean-Paul replies to Pepper, giving her a winning smile as he releases her hand. Heather's gone to turn the radio up so there's no need for him to leave his seat. What a good friend that woman is.
He listens to the report for a moment before looking between Pepper and Betty, his eyebrows arching in unhidden curiosity. "A good sign?" he echoes, with a tip of his chin towards the radio. "…ah. Friend of yours, perhaps. I see." Well, he is fast.
*
Heather returns to take a seat, watching the expressions on the other two women. She's keeping her thoughts about the likelihood that Peggy is out there to herself. It's not exactly panic she's feeling, it's more… well. Yes, panic.
"You know someone out there?"
*
Worried, quiet blue eyes flicker across Betty's features as her friend listens rapt to the broadcast. Pepper wants to say something to her, to try and drag her out of listening, but she also knows that if their positions were reversed, she wouldn't want to do anything but hear every word. So, instead, she just squeezes Betty's fingertips tightly and holds on close. Her eyes turn back to Jean-Paul and Heather, a slight grimace across her lovely, young features. "…Possibly. If… if it's… Him. The Hulk. I mean, it sounds like… him. When he's not sick like that, he… He's a real nice man. A brilliant scientist. He just… He gets sick."
*
It is understanding, of all things, that flashes across Jean-Paul's face. "Ahhh, one of those," he murmurs, glancing towards Betty with a sympathetic smile. "It is a terrible burden to live under. If it is him, I hope it can be worked out." Mostly because, if it isn't, he'll inevitably have to go and do something about it and that's… work. Ugh. He has coffee to drink, here.
*
"Oh, dear." Heather seems to take that in stride as she puts all the pieces together. "I see. I'm certain, if that's him, that someone's out there to help him." Heather reaches for Betty's hand.
"At least you know where he is. And if you know where he is, then you can find him again — not the physical person, the one inside there. These things, they can get better." She sounds like she actually means that, she's not just spouting platitudes. "
*
A gentle nod is given in agreement to Heather's words. "Listen to her, Betty… she's… She's clearly smart. If it's him…" It's almost certainly him, "there is still hope. He can be talked…talked down, with some work. Then people can help him see more clear. He… He cares about you. He'll come home, eventually…" Pepper tries to offer, even if there is a bit of false cheer behind her voice. She knows those words sound a bit too good to be true, but she's trying so hard.
The radio crackles again, "Wait, it seems like some progress might be made. A… woman from the SHIELD helicopter seems to be getting the creature's attention. We are getting reports he's stopped and said something. 'Peg-E'. If these reports are right, that could be Director of SHIELD, Peggy Carter, on the ground right now… He recognizes her and is no longer attacking…" For the moment.
*
Betty's jaw drops at the report through the radio. "Director Carter knows her physician would not advise her to drop down from a helicopter to stop a large green beastly Bruce Banner while eight months pregnant," her frown deepens. "Bruce…" she murmurs quietly.
It's only then that her eyes lift to the others, "Perhaps. Maybe he can. Hopefully he can." Her frown deepens, "I… Bruce… just… just calm down… I know you're in there…"
*
"Would you like a lift?" Jean-Paul asks Betty, and for as casually as he's asking it, he might be offering to call her a cab. But no. "If you'd like to go and have a look, I'd be happy to fly you out to… where did the report say this was?" he murmurs, giving Heather an expectant look. She'd probably been paying more attention than he was.
*
"Cincinnatus. And if Peggy is out there." Heather rubs her hands over her face. "Well, this is not good. I'm sure she has people with her, though. It may be unusual, Betty, but Jean-Paul is an excellent flyer and he can get you where you need to go faster than anyone on the planet, I expect." She gives Betty a warm smile, encouraging her. "If you think you should be there, then let him take you. He hates to be useful but he does love to be appreciated."
*
While Pepper might be a *bit* jealous that Betty is the one getting the ride with tall, dark and stunningly handsome, it's easily put behind the fact that there might be a chance Betty can see the man she cares about again. She bites her lower lip, squeezing Betty's hand one more time and giving a little, encouraging nod, "Betty, if you want to go…Go. Uh… I don't really know these folks but if they can help, you might as well take it. I know you're going to be a wreck otherwise. Just… just call me tonight, when it's all over?"
*
Betty levels a look at Jean-Paul, "Please. I need… Bruce needs me. If SHIELD is out there, they're out of their element. He's completely reasonable, just… angers easily. He doesn't… he hates the destruction. I swear he does — "
She turns and quirks at smile at Heather followed by a nod. "Yes… I … I'll call. I promise. Pepper, dear… thank you. For the pep talk…" her cheeks flush. "Thank you all." She takes a step towards Jean-Paul, "So. Please. As fast as you can…"
*
"Well, perhaps not that fast," Jean-Paul says with a laugh, rising to his feet so that he can offer Betty his arm. "But as fast as I safely can. I promise. Which direction is Cincinnatus?" he asks lightly, already heading for the door.