TM 228: 3 AM
Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty, and I'll meet you tonight in Atlantic City. . . - Bruce Springsteen
( Spoilers for the final issue of 'The Order' )
( Spoilers for the final issue of 'The Order' )
He looks down at her hand. "Is that your power?" Magnetic forces, it's coming to him now. She might even be connected to Magneto in some way? Henry doesn't have a head for these kinds of details, and he never reads anybody's dossier unless professional obligation requires it. It's not carelessness but a type of courtesy, something he picked up over the years in quasi-anonymous support groups. If something is important enough to a person, they'll tell you in their own time.
"Here I thought Tony had a monopoly on interesting applications of magnetism. I mean --" He felt himself blush. "You know what I mean. And -- I'm sure you're right about him. He is proud of me, he does mean it, but at the same time -- it's awful, but sometimes I wish he wasn't my friend."
He grips the bottle in his hand, stroking a thumb over the white letters on the Bushmills logo. "Do you want to hear the most ridiculous thing? I don't even want a drink right now."
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He twirled the bottle and rolled it off his lap, letting it nestle in the sand a few feet away. Make some resourceful wine-o happy. There were times in Henry's life it might have been him and, hey, anyone scouring the beach for promising bottles couldn't be far from rock bottom anyway. Maybe he should write the number of a New Jersey AA chapter on the label.
Then he caught the end of Lorna's soothing ramble. 'Wait, who's Tony supposed to be in love with? I'm always the last one to hear everything." His eyes widened. "It's Pepper, isn't it? I should have known. Jesus, woman -- Not you," he corrected quickly to Lorna, as he reached across her body to dig in his jacket pocket. "Where's my phone --?"
They might have, accidentally, gotten a little tangled up, in the process of reaching.
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He rolls his head back and looks at the sky, "Sorry I thought you were a double agent, Pepper." Then back at Lorna. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's actually listening. They supposedly took out my telepresence receiver when I lost my powers, but with Stark's tech, I'm sure he has a way -- I'm sorry, you have no idea what I'm talking about."
And then he wonders why he's babbling about Tony and his unrequited crush, and Pepper's synthetic telepathy, and trying to ignore that he's lying against this beautiful woman, and feeling more than a little turned on by the whole situation, and he's pretty sure that's not supposed to be happening, for a whole mess of reasons.
"So, Magnet Girl," he whispers, "I think we need to talk about what' s going on here."
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He raises his head a little, so she won't try to kiss him again. "Just letting it happen is what I would have done. Years ago. When I was -- before I -- well, you're the kind of woman I would have told myself I was falling in love with." He swallows. "I think I have to stop pretending this is going to work for me. I'm sorry?"
The last sentence is just barely a question, it feels like the right thing to be saying, and the only complication is that his body is still pressed against Lorna, and as the two of them can both tell, this is manifestly working for him right now.
Why isn't anything ever simple as simple as it would be in a movie?
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He stands up, brushes the sand off his khakis, not quite looking at her as he says. "Because you're beautiful, and you were kind and brave enough to come here. And I don't even know your story yet and that's not fair to you." He holds out a hand to her. "Come with me."
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