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

[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.