Rara Avis part 10
Title: Rava Avis a tale of a good woman part ten: Lunch
Genre: Drama, Romance
Characters/Pairings: Walter Kovacs, OC, Walter/OC
Rating: R
Summary: Betty brings Walter lunch. When she returns to the office she finds a ghost of her past waiting.
Betty stepped into the shop cautiously the brown paper bag in her hand. It had been a week since the picnic. She looked around, it smelled of cloth, must and dust. There was balding man with a tape measure slung around his neck behind the desk.
“Can I help you, Ms?” He asked
“Yes. I was told Walter Kovacs works here?” She asked. “I’m here to see him.”
He gave her a strange look. “Yes. He’s through the back. Are you his sister?”
He gestured to a door behind him.
“No,” She said. “I’m his girlfriend.”
“Heh-heh, Lucky Walter.” said the man.
She went on through. The room was filled with cloth, clothing, sewing machines and dress mannequins. There were four people in the room. Three men and one woman. They were in the middle of a conversation. They stopped when she walked in. She spotted Walter instantly--- his red hair was like a beacon. She called his name he turned around. There was scowl on his face, but it quickly changed to surprise and maybe-- joy? When he saw her.
“Betty what are you doing here?” He asked.
“You always say that buying lunch is so expensive so, I packed you one myself.” She explained.
“Oh.” He said.
She walked over to him and he rose to meet her. She handed him the bag.
“There’s a cold meatloaf sandwich, a pickle, a thermos of ice-tea and a apple.” She said. “I made the tea extra sweet the way you like it.”
He looked into the bag. Then up at her.
“See you after work, I guess.” He said.
“Yeah.” She said. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good-bye, Walter.”
“Bye Betty,” He muttered, blushing. “Thank you.”
And she walked out the door.
Silovic gave a low whistle.
“Kovacs, you lucky dog! Barton, what would you say her measurements are?”
“34-26-36,” Barton said tracing curves in the air.
“You raising her hemline Ko-vac?” asked Mrs. Chang.
“If he doesn’t I sure would,” Callahan remarked.
Walter wished he could crawl into the paper bag. Embarrassment and anger swirled inside him.
“Eh, I’d put a bag over her head first,” Said Silovic. “Did you catch a look at her face?”
“Please, stop talking about Betty like that.” Walter growled.
They looked at him. His clenched fists, the darkness in his brown eyes. His whole face was mask of boiling anger.
“Whoa clam down, man,” Callahan said, who’d seen this look just before their one time drunken brawl.
“We we’re only kidding,” said Barton weakly.
“Yeah, come on Kovacs, keep your shirt on.” Silovic said.
“I don’t want hear you say anything like that about her.” Walter said. “Ever again.”
They all looked at each other, and silently went back to work. He thought of her sweet face and her kiss. Though it did embarrass him, that she came to visit here. On the other hand she did care enough to visit him and pack him a lunch. No one had bothered to do anything like that for him before. She was so good, so kind and she was his. Maybe he’d have the courage to tell her how he felt.
~~~~~~~~~~~
When Betty got back the Johnson Museum archive she heard talking coming from Dr. Meyer’s office. He was laughing and chatting with someone. He peaked his head around the door way.
“Betty! There’s someone here, for you!” Dr. Meyer said.
“There is?” Betty asked, she wondered who exactly it could be.
She stepped into the office and back into her past. Standing there was Eugene O’Gannon, ‘uncle’ Gene, her mother’s friend. He was older, his hairline receding with streaks of grey in the neat brown hair. He looked haggard, thin, and his blue suit was worn. She hadn’t seen him since she was seven. He had dropped her off at her Grandmother’s house. He smiled when he saw her.
“Hello there, you remember me?” He asked.
“Of course, I do.” She said.
“Can I take you to lunch, I’d like to get to know you.” He said.
She felt sick and strange inside, but still she looked at him, his hopeful nervous smile. His worn suit and tired face.
“Dr. Meyer is it okay if I..?” She asked.
Dr. Meyer grinned. “Oh sure, I’ve been a fan of Mr. O’Gannon’s work since way back. I still have my copy of Terror at Crimson Castle. Gives me Goosebumps.”
“Glad someone liked it, the critics sure didn’t.” Uncle Gene said.
They shared a laugh.
So with good-byes, Betty and Eugene left the office.
“This is great seeing you again, you sure have grown.” He said.
“Yeah, I have it has been a while.” She said. “How’s the writing going?”
“The writing is going like a dream, it’s getting it published. That I have trouble with,” He said. “Thanks to Joe McCarthy (may he burn in hell) and his blacklist. Nobody wants to touch work of card carrying socialist.”
And that made her feel queasy when she had been a child. She hadn’t been aware of Uncle Gene’s political views. What would Walter think if he saw her talking with such a person?
“Oh, that’s too bad, are you sure you can I mean we don’t have to go to lunch.” She said.
“No, no, I can still afford to take my favorite ‘niece’ to lunch.” He said. “Uncles are supposed to this sort of thing. Besides I know a place.”
The place in question was little French bistro called: Le chat blanc.
They sat outside in the May air. A waiter came over and they ordered.
She got Coq au vin, he got Croque Monsieur with pomme frites.
“It took me a while to track you down.” He said.
She said nothing. “Did you know Uncle Gene, when you dropped me off at her house what would happen?”
“Well, Merdi, was always talking about how puritanical her mother was. But I never imagined--- that--- she would do something so awful.” he said.
“No. You didn’t.” Betty said quietly.
“When I read in the paper… I just--look I tried to contact social services but with my politics and not being officially related and all. They turned me away. ” He said.
“Oh, really?” She replied. She wondered if he was telling the truth.
“Besides I really haven’t the money lately.” He said.
And she suspected that was what really happened.
The waiter brought them their salads.
“I remember we used eat at places like this all the time---” She said.
“--We always used to get you French onion soup half a baguette and a creme Brule.” He said. “You were such a cute kid.”
She smiled weakly. “Why did you take so long to find me, uncle Gene?”
“I felt guilty because well you know I dropped you off there. Besides your records were sealed I couldn’t find out where you were if I wanted to.” He said.
Excuses, excuses.
“How is uncle Roger, uncle Scott Aunt Bruce and uncle Patrica?” She asked.
“The old gang?” He sighed. ”I haven’t see them in ages. Roger went into advertising sold out. Scott married Navajo girl he’s in southwest now doing god knows what. Bruce is… dead. He was walking home at night and some asshole bashed his skull in. And Patricia? Well she’s in France with her latest ‘galpal‘.”
“That’s to bad about Bruce, he was my…” She couldn’t finish his famous catchphrase, the one Aunt Bruce had used to tell her as he picked her up and tickled her. He always smelled like Chanel no. 5.
“---Fairy Godfather, yeah I know.” Said Gene picking over his salad.
“Speakign of which, who was my real father?” She asked.
“Well, your mother was very free… it could have been me, or Scott or Roger. We all did our best to support you two.” He said.
“So none of you know,” She sighed.
She looked at her meal, and then at him. Why didn’t they know? Walter would
“Nope. Sorry. I did what I could… I was visiting your Mother at Meadowview for the past couple years. There were days she didn’t know me, and days when she did. When she was in a good state of mind. She’d always talk about you. She loved you lots. I was there when she finally died.” He said.
She felt distinctly uncomfortable. Sitting here with him. The memories of her early childhood blurring together. She couldn’t stay in the past, she had Walter. He was her future. And he wouldn’t approve of Uncle Gene at all. Despite all the good he had done. He was a commie. A Red.
“Oh.” She said. “Do you have the time?”
“Yes,” He said looking down at his watch. “It’s Quarter passed one.”
“I think I should be leaving.” She said.
“Leaving, but you hardly go here…” Uncle Gene said.
“Well, It’s just… just… you never cared enough to actually do something and no you show up and take me to lunch and expect me to roll out the welcome mat.” She said anger slowly building up.
“I did what I could.” He replied.
“That wasn’t enough.” She said. ”Nobody cared, not one of my ‘Aunts’ or ‘Uncles’ came by, they didn’t try to help or anything. Other people have helped me. Other people more worthy of my time.”
He sighed. He looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. You can’t just waltz in here and buy me lunch and….” She said. “I’m leaving.”
And she got up from the table and walked away. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked off. She knew what she said wounded. But she had to say it. He would never see her again. She couldn’t have people like him hanging around her now. And he really hadn’t done anything…right? Hadn’t bothered to check up on her after he dropped her off at that woman’s house. None of them had. And didn’t matter how many meals he bought her, or if he visited her mother in the nuthouse.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late evening as Walter walked Betty home.
“Did you like the lunch I packed you?” She asked.
“Yes, it was wonderful.” He replied.
He was smiling his slight barely noticeable smile.
“Good.” She said.
How to slip in conversation. How to tell a girl he loved her? He felt awful. He had this thing to tell her, but he couldn’t picture himself saying it.
She held his hand, He gave her hand a squeeze.
“You know I feel like taking a walk in the park tonight.” He said.
“Really?” She said.
And so they went to the park and when the people had gone. When the sky darkened. He embraced her. She nuzzled his neck. He lifted her chin shyly and kissed her. They kissed long and deep over and over again, His hand resting on her breast when he was feeling bold and sure no one was around.
“I think I love you.” She said as they sat entwined together. “Do you love me?”
He looked at her in semi-darkness fear, anxiety and joy welling up and mixing into acid in his stomach and pounding in his chest.
“I---I---” He began.
She smelled so sweet and she felt good, warm and soft and smooth.
“--I think I do too.” He said.
She kissed him then full, deep smothering kiss. Her hands in his hair. When she pulled back she was grinning widely. And he felt like he could fly.
That day, Betty left behind the ghosts of her past: Her mad mother, her posthumous birth, and bohemian friends. And embraced a future with Walter. A future she could almost taste now.
Note: Long and silly and full of backstory details that interest only me.
Crossposted to watchmenfic
Genre: Drama, Romance
Characters/Pairings: Walter Kovacs, OC, Walter/OC
Rating: R
Summary: Betty brings Walter lunch. When she returns to the office she finds a ghost of her past waiting.
Betty stepped into the shop cautiously the brown paper bag in her hand. It had been a week since the picnic. She looked around, it smelled of cloth, must and dust. There was balding man with a tape measure slung around his neck behind the desk.
“Can I help you, Ms?” He asked
“Yes. I was told Walter Kovacs works here?” She asked. “I’m here to see him.”
He gave her a strange look. “Yes. He’s through the back. Are you his sister?”
He gestured to a door behind him.
“No,” She said. “I’m his girlfriend.”
“Heh-heh, Lucky Walter.” said the man.
She went on through. The room was filled with cloth, clothing, sewing machines and dress mannequins. There were four people in the room. Three men and one woman. They were in the middle of a conversation. They stopped when she walked in. She spotted Walter instantly--- his red hair was like a beacon. She called his name he turned around. There was scowl on his face, but it quickly changed to surprise and maybe-- joy? When he saw her.
“Betty what are you doing here?” He asked.
“You always say that buying lunch is so expensive so, I packed you one myself.” She explained.
“Oh.” He said.
She walked over to him and he rose to meet her. She handed him the bag.
“There’s a cold meatloaf sandwich, a pickle, a thermos of ice-tea and a apple.” She said. “I made the tea extra sweet the way you like it.”
He looked into the bag. Then up at her.
“See you after work, I guess.” He said.
“Yeah.” She said. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good-bye, Walter.”
“Bye Betty,” He muttered, blushing. “Thank you.”
And she walked out the door.
Silovic gave a low whistle.
“Kovacs, you lucky dog! Barton, what would you say her measurements are?”
“34-26-36,” Barton said tracing curves in the air.
“You raising her hemline Ko-vac?” asked Mrs. Chang.
“If he doesn’t I sure would,” Callahan remarked.
Walter wished he could crawl into the paper bag. Embarrassment and anger swirled inside him.
“Eh, I’d put a bag over her head first,” Said Silovic. “Did you catch a look at her face?”
“Please, stop talking about Betty like that.” Walter growled.
They looked at him. His clenched fists, the darkness in his brown eyes. His whole face was mask of boiling anger.
“Whoa clam down, man,” Callahan said, who’d seen this look just before their one time drunken brawl.
“We we’re only kidding,” said Barton weakly.
“Yeah, come on Kovacs, keep your shirt on.” Silovic said.
“I don’t want hear you say anything like that about her.” Walter said. “Ever again.”
They all looked at each other, and silently went back to work. He thought of her sweet face and her kiss. Though it did embarrass him, that she came to visit here. On the other hand she did care enough to visit him and pack him a lunch. No one had bothered to do anything like that for him before. She was so good, so kind and she was his. Maybe he’d have the courage to tell her how he felt.
~~~~~~~~~~~
When Betty got back the Johnson Museum archive she heard talking coming from Dr. Meyer’s office. He was laughing and chatting with someone. He peaked his head around the door way.
“Betty! There’s someone here, for you!” Dr. Meyer said.
“There is?” Betty asked, she wondered who exactly it could be.
She stepped into the office and back into her past. Standing there was Eugene O’Gannon, ‘uncle’ Gene, her mother’s friend. He was older, his hairline receding with streaks of grey in the neat brown hair. He looked haggard, thin, and his blue suit was worn. She hadn’t seen him since she was seven. He had dropped her off at her Grandmother’s house. He smiled when he saw her.
“Hello there, you remember me?” He asked.
“Of course, I do.” She said.
“Can I take you to lunch, I’d like to get to know you.” He said.
She felt sick and strange inside, but still she looked at him, his hopeful nervous smile. His worn suit and tired face.
“Dr. Meyer is it okay if I..?” She asked.
Dr. Meyer grinned. “Oh sure, I’ve been a fan of Mr. O’Gannon’s work since way back. I still have my copy of Terror at Crimson Castle. Gives me Goosebumps.”
“Glad someone liked it, the critics sure didn’t.” Uncle Gene said.
They shared a laugh.
So with good-byes, Betty and Eugene left the office.
“This is great seeing you again, you sure have grown.” He said.
“Yeah, I have it has been a while.” She said. “How’s the writing going?”
“The writing is going like a dream, it’s getting it published. That I have trouble with,” He said. “Thanks to Joe McCarthy (may he burn in hell) and his blacklist. Nobody wants to touch work of card carrying socialist.”
And that made her feel queasy when she had been a child. She hadn’t been aware of Uncle Gene’s political views. What would Walter think if he saw her talking with such a person?
“Oh, that’s too bad, are you sure you can I mean we don’t have to go to lunch.” She said.
“No, no, I can still afford to take my favorite ‘niece’ to lunch.” He said. “Uncles are supposed to this sort of thing. Besides I know a place.”
The place in question was little French bistro called: Le chat blanc.
They sat outside in the May air. A waiter came over and they ordered.
She got Coq au vin, he got Croque Monsieur with pomme frites.
“It took me a while to track you down.” He said.
She said nothing. “Did you know Uncle Gene, when you dropped me off at her house what would happen?”
“Well, Merdi, was always talking about how puritanical her mother was. But I never imagined--- that--- she would do something so awful.” he said.
“No. You didn’t.” Betty said quietly.
“When I read in the paper… I just--look I tried to contact social services but with my politics and not being officially related and all. They turned me away. ” He said.
“Oh, really?” She replied. She wondered if he was telling the truth.
“Besides I really haven’t the money lately.” He said.
And she suspected that was what really happened.
The waiter brought them their salads.
“I remember we used eat at places like this all the time---” She said.
“--We always used to get you French onion soup half a baguette and a creme Brule.” He said. “You were such a cute kid.”
She smiled weakly. “Why did you take so long to find me, uncle Gene?”
“I felt guilty because well you know I dropped you off there. Besides your records were sealed I couldn’t find out where you were if I wanted to.” He said.
Excuses, excuses.
“How is uncle Roger, uncle Scott Aunt Bruce and uncle Patrica?” She asked.
“The old gang?” He sighed. ”I haven’t see them in ages. Roger went into advertising sold out. Scott married Navajo girl he’s in southwest now doing god knows what. Bruce is… dead. He was walking home at night and some asshole bashed his skull in. And Patricia? Well she’s in France with her latest ‘galpal‘.”
“That’s to bad about Bruce, he was my…” She couldn’t finish his famous catchphrase, the one Aunt Bruce had used to tell her as he picked her up and tickled her. He always smelled like Chanel no. 5.
“---Fairy Godfather, yeah I know.” Said Gene picking over his salad.
“Speakign of which, who was my real father?” She asked.
“Well, your mother was very free… it could have been me, or Scott or Roger. We all did our best to support you two.” He said.
“So none of you know,” She sighed.
She looked at her meal, and then at him. Why didn’t they know? Walter would
“Nope. Sorry. I did what I could… I was visiting your Mother at Meadowview for the past couple years. There were days she didn’t know me, and days when she did. When she was in a good state of mind. She’d always talk about you. She loved you lots. I was there when she finally died.” He said.
She felt distinctly uncomfortable. Sitting here with him. The memories of her early childhood blurring together. She couldn’t stay in the past, she had Walter. He was her future. And he wouldn’t approve of Uncle Gene at all. Despite all the good he had done. He was a commie. A Red.
“Oh.” She said. “Do you have the time?”
“Yes,” He said looking down at his watch. “It’s Quarter passed one.”
“I think I should be leaving.” She said.
“Leaving, but you hardly go here…” Uncle Gene said.
“Well, It’s just… just… you never cared enough to actually do something and no you show up and take me to lunch and expect me to roll out the welcome mat.” She said anger slowly building up.
“I did what I could.” He replied.
“That wasn’t enough.” She said. ”Nobody cared, not one of my ‘Aunts’ or ‘Uncles’ came by, they didn’t try to help or anything. Other people have helped me. Other people more worthy of my time.”
He sighed. He looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
“Sorry isn’t good enough. You can’t just waltz in here and buy me lunch and….” She said. “I’m leaving.”
And she got up from the table and walked away. She could feel his eyes on her back as she walked off. She knew what she said wounded. But she had to say it. He would never see her again. She couldn’t have people like him hanging around her now. And he really hadn’t done anything…right? Hadn’t bothered to check up on her after he dropped her off at that woman’s house. None of them had. And didn’t matter how many meals he bought her, or if he visited her mother in the nuthouse.
~~~~~~~~~~~
It was late evening as Walter walked Betty home.
“Did you like the lunch I packed you?” She asked.
“Yes, it was wonderful.” He replied.
He was smiling his slight barely noticeable smile.
“Good.” She said.
How to slip in conversation. How to tell a girl he loved her? He felt awful. He had this thing to tell her, but he couldn’t picture himself saying it.
She held his hand, He gave her hand a squeeze.
“You know I feel like taking a walk in the park tonight.” He said.
“Really?” She said.
And so they went to the park and when the people had gone. When the sky darkened. He embraced her. She nuzzled his neck. He lifted her chin shyly and kissed her. They kissed long and deep over and over again, His hand resting on her breast when he was feeling bold and sure no one was around.
“I think I love you.” She said as they sat entwined together. “Do you love me?”
He looked at her in semi-darkness fear, anxiety and joy welling up and mixing into acid in his stomach and pounding in his chest.
“I---I---” He began.
She smelled so sweet and she felt good, warm and soft and smooth.
“--I think I do too.” He said.
She kissed him then full, deep smothering kiss. Her hands in his hair. When she pulled back she was grinning widely. And he felt like he could fly.
That day, Betty left behind the ghosts of her past: Her mad mother, her posthumous birth, and bohemian friends. And embraced a future with Walter. A future she could almost taste now.
Note: Long and silly and full of backstory details that interest only me.
Crossposted to watchmenfic