Reunion with brokeharlem

[labcoatgirl]

[follows this]

It was a long trip, almost six hours before she was in New York. Betty hadn't driven much in big city like this so she was grateful for the turn by turn directions of her GPS. Stark tower loomed in the center of town, the glowing sign lighting up the dark. It was still a wreck here, she had to avoid multiple construction sites, passing huge holes in the road and businesses smashed to pieces.

She parked in a lot a short distance away from the tower, who's sign was reduced to just a single A glowing overhead. Betty got out of the car and started walking, thumbing her phone as she posted on twitter, to make sure Bruce knew she was there.

@drbanner I'm here, walking towards the tower.

Comments

[brokeharlem.livejournal.com]

Bruce gets the sense that JARVIS is tactfully refraining from explaining, if only to avoid startling or upsetting Betty, and he's silently grateful for that. He'll have to thank the AI later; for now, though, he just shrugs. "JARVIS is more than just the elevator. He runs the Tower. He's kind of like ... "

Calling JARVIS Tony's butler feels like a disservice, somehow. Referring to him as one of Tony's friends seems like something both man and AI would rather avoid, if only because people seem to get a little touchy about sentient computers before they get the opportunity to know them, and so he pops one shoulder in another shrug, letting Betty finish that sentence on her own. He'll let Tony and JARVIS explain JARVIS' functions, when they're ready.

"You didn't have to," he continues, switching tracks back to their current relationship statuses. He brushes a thumb over the back of her hand. "I mean, if he made you happy ... you deserve that."

[labcoatgirl.livejournal.com]

"...an all purpose computer?" Now that was impressive.

She looks up at him, a determined look on her face. "It was a mutual decision. He...wasn't you." That was the easiest way to explain it.

[brokeharlem.livejournal.com]

"Something like that, yeah."

He looks up, too, meeting her eyes for an instant before looking away. When he does, a small, self-depreciating smile springs to his lips. "Some people might tell you that's a good thing."

[labcoatgirl.livejournal.com]

She reaches and turns his face carefully to look back at her, a smile that says I know better than that. "Then they're wrong. We work well together." Always have, always will.

"And I don't think I could give you up completely if I tried." She has a hunch it's the same with him.

[brokeharlem.livejournal.com]

The smile turning a little more genuine -- the same, almost shy one he was wearing earlier -- he tilts his head into her hand slowly. "That sounds disturbingly familiar."

He's more than definitely in the same boat.

[labcoatgirl.livejournal.com]

Her smile just about reaches up to her eyes back at him. There's the Bruce she knows.

She leans up and kisses him softly. "So I'm afraid you're stuck with me." Metaphorically and literally, it would seem.

I'd seriously sell my left arm for a Ruffalo!Bruce / Tyler!Betty icon.

[brokeharlem.livejournal.com]

He tenses when she kisses him, not used to much in the way of intimate, physical contact. It's familiar, his response the same the first time she'd touched him when they'd been alone together two years ago, and thankfully brief, and then he's returning the kiss, his shoulders slumping in something like relief. He's still afraid -- afraid that he'll hurt her, that she'll change her mind, something, anything to ruin him finally getting his way after something like six years -- but he can't back away. He can't lose her again because of something he did.

"I'll try and keep that in mind," he tells her as he breaks the kiss finally, his forehead resting against hers.

:/ I wish I had one to give you, though I have screencapped the snot out of TIH

[labcoatgirl.livejournal.com]

She knows after so much time alone, it's going to take time to settle into a routine again. Betty can't imagine what it's been like, living from moment to moment on the run all the time.

Betty enjoys the moment, keeping her forehead to his as well and straightening his lapels to his shirt absently. A faint smile, "Your shirt could use ironing." Something normal to talk about.

If I had skills of an artist, I'd make one. As it is, I'm probably gonna end up poking a friend.

[brokeharlem.livejournal.com]

Without moving and from the corners of his eyes, he glances down at his shirt. "If you think this is bad, you should have seen me a few months ago."

Now, and thanks to Tony, he at least has more than one or two worn, rumpled suits.