2013.05.10 - Friday Ferry Ride

The late afternoon sky is dark and foreboding, gathering clouds threatening rain and thunder rumbling, still at a distance. Despite the general greyness, the temperature has been mild, summer knocking although still not quite arrived. Fern went to pick up her paycheck at Anita Bella, then treated herself to one of her favorite afternoon off activities. Riding the Staten Island Ferry. This is only her second trip today, heading from the island back to New York Harbor, and despite the threat of rain, she's on the top deck, standing by the rail with her hands wrapped loosely around the metal. Her typical black boots are absent today, replaced with flat, strappy sandals that lace up her calves. A brightly patterned skirt flaps just above her knees in the wind, looking like a flag in shades of red and orange, and the muted orange of her t-shirt is perhaps a welcome respite. She looks at ease, lost in thought, watching the water as the ship makes it's passage.

The afternoon has NOT gone as Justin Hammer had planned. His early afternoon escape from the office to go to an art exhibition opening ended up less than relaxing after running into a young, cocky Stark prodigy. After that little incident, he was called back to the office by the news that something had gone terribly wrong in one of the labs, and people had been hurt. With the growing afternoon traffic,he had been forced to take alternate transportation back to the Hammer Industries facility on Staten Island, and he left his vehicle back in SoHo.

So in an uncharacteristic move brought on by sheer frustration, Justin has elected to just take the ferry back across to the harbor. There's a lot more efficient ways for him to get back over to SoHo, but at this point Hammer doesn't care. If he's stuck on this damned boat, no one can call him back in for yet another crisis, and that's fine by him. Making his way to the upper deck of the ferry he looks across at the storm clouds, then takes stock of who's present. He notices a familiar looking young woman, and starts toward her. "Well, if it isn't the butterfly tamer," he offers as he approaches Fern, his tone light but obviously tired. If he hadn't recognized her, he wouldn't have bothered saying anything and would have remained antisocial.

Fern turns immediately, not placing the voice until she sees the familiar face, and then her smile comes, adding a little brightness to the gloomy day. "Justin!" She raises one hand, raking back hair that the wind wants to toss in her face. "Fancy seeing you here. Heading back to Manhattan?" It might be fairly obvious, all things considered, but perhaps that's not his final destination.

"SoHo, specifically," Justin replies, offering a weary smile. "Had to leave my car there earlier. Out exploring the city again?" The young woman's presence helps his mood slightly, but he's still fighting back his usual snarky tone. He leans against the railing, less fidgety than usual.

Concern tempers Fern's bright smile a touch, her eyes sharpening as she looks at him. She turns to lean as he does, settling beside him companionably, almost close enough for her shoulder to bump his with the motion of the waves. "Kind of. I love the water, and the ferry is free so..." She lets the words trail off, shooting Justin a sideways smile. "Not so much exploring as sea faring." Her hands wrap around the rail again, an anchor against falling over if they hit a rough patch. "How are you?" she asks simply, her eyes direct.

Having grown up in the Big Apple, Justin had never considered riding the ferry just to ride the ferry. It was always just another mode of transportation in the city. Interesting how one's perspective can be shifted by such a simple comment. He grins lightly and nods in response, but sighs at the direct questions. "Tired as hell," he says bluntly. No sense in sugar coating it, but he doesn't offer any details right off the bat.

Fern shifts, and with the next buck from a wave does let her shoulder nudge Justin lightly. "You sound tired." Her voice is gentle, "Rough week at work?" He seems like a man that would be tired from work above most other reasons, dedicated and driven, if a little unorthodox at times.

The CEO looks toward Fern when she bumps into him. Normally that might irritate him, but the budding actress has something about her that puts even the hot-headed corporate man at ease. It's very odd that he lets anyone in his personal bubble, unless he's intentionally trying to make an impression. "You have no idea," Justin sighs. "I've run into more than a few snags here lately." Getting shot at in the Bronx, a bratty school kid throwing insults at him in his own building, a run in with a Stark and then the lab problems. It's been hell.

It's clear in his voice that the week has taken some wind out of Justin's sails, and Fern raises her brows entreatingly, "At least it's Friday?" She pauses, swaying again with the boat, before speaking again. "I hope it hasn't been anything serious as least." There's a sincerity to her words, although she's thinking he seems run down enough that there had to have been some serious in the mix of his week.

At least it's Friday. There's a good chance that Justin will have to do at least some sort of work tomorrow, thanks to the lab incident. Being the CEO has some perks, but there's a lot of additional stress that many don't realize comes with the job. Fern's nature again draws an unnatural response from the man, and he answers truthfully, instead of trying to gloss things over or change the story to make himself look better. "Serious isn't the half of it. Got shot at," OK, there was a shot fired, not necessarily /at/ him, but close enough, "have a project behind schedule, and there was a lab incident today." He leaves out the part about running into the red bovine brat and Stark Junior, he's not that friendly with Fern. Or anyone for that matter.

Blue eyes widen in alarm and Fern turns to face Justin more fully, looking him over again, as if expecting to see him suddenly wounded or something. "Oh my god, you got shot at?" The work things, those suck, but shot at? That's 'personal injury or worse'. Much higher on Fern's concern scale. "When did it happen? -How- did it happen? I'm so glad you're alright, Justin."

Justin can't hide the look of shock on his face at Fern's reaction. He can't remember the last time anyone actually /cared/ if he suffered, or nearly suffered, bodily harm. "Uh, T-Tuesday," he says with a bit of a stammer, "I was out with a group of councilmen in the Bronx on a tour of the neighborhood. There's a plan for trying to revitalize the area. A group of gangbangers decided to take a shot at us." He makes absolutely no mention of the hero and the blue mutant that helped keep anyone in the group of suits from getting hurt. In his mind, it was all thanks to his personal security detail.

Fern takes a deep breath, her face easing, hand lifting to settle lightly on his arm. She doesn't have many qualms about personal space, so may be unintentionally invasive at times, but she means well. "I can only imagine how scary that must have been. Someone pointed a gun at me once, didn't even shoot, and I was absolutely terrified." Her hand pats lightly before falling away again. "The important thing is that you're alright."

Again Justin allows his space to be invaded without complaint, though he doesn't really react either. He's quiet for a moment before glancing to the young woman. "Thanks," he says finally. Wait, when was the last time he uttered that word? Probably sometime around the same time someone last asked him if he was alright. "When did you have a gun pointed at you?" New York City can be a pretty rough place, he's actually not surprised the poor girl may have been a victim of a robbery. That doesn't mean he's not completely unconcerned about it, however.

With both her hands firmly on the rail again, Fern leans back, arms straight. "Few months ago," she answers, seeming unfazed by it now, so far after the fact. She offers the story without prompting. "I was heading home after an audition, and I saw this woman walking and these five guys came up to her. She didn't, like, struggle or anything, but I saw that one of the guys had a gun." Slight shoulders shrug, "I couldn't just walk away, was if she was in trouble. And she had been. She actually did get shot, in the shoulder."

Justin looks genuinely concerned as he listens to Fern's account of what happened. "Robbery gone wrong?" he asks, "Was the other woman alright?" You hear stories in the news about things like that happening, but this is the first time he can recall hearing such a tale from someone who was actually there. Until his incident on Tuesday, he'd been lucky and isolated from first-hand experiences with violent crime.

Fern has not had Justin's luck, although, in fairness, many of her incidents weren't exactly typical crimes. She's a magnet for the oddness that runs rampant through the city, or maybe it's just the people she hangs out with. "I guess she was ok... she jumped a fence and took off. And there was another guy who showed up, in a hoodie, and he took out the guy that pointed the gun at me." Which was right before his eyes turned red for a few seconds and he told her to take off. But that part can be edited down to, "I took off. I didn't want to be there when the cops showed up." She says this sheepishly, as if she's not used to disobeying authority so blatantly.

Justin cracks a grin at her comment about not wanting to be there when the cops show up. "I don't blame you," he admits. He has had dealings with law enforcement in the past, both dealing with legal issues and through business relations. Dealing with local law enforcement isn't fun in either capacity. "Glad you weren't hurt." Was that... Genuine concern? The CEO decides to shift the subject to something that isn't crime. "How's it going at the restaurant?"

Fern's smile returns in full force, "Thanks, Justin." Her brows lift suddenly at his question, as it sparks a connection to something she'd meant to mention, but had forgotten at seeing him unexpectedly. "Oh! There were some guys in suits in last week, I heard them mention your name. I made sure they were well taken care of, thought they might be friends of yours."

Now it's Justin's turn to arch a brow. "Really now? Get any names?" Being on friendly terms with a waitress may not be such a bad thing after all. She could be an incredible source for intel. For a second he almost feels guilty about potentially using her for information, but he reminds himself that business can be cutthroat, and if she's not harmed then it's no foul, right?

There's a thoughtful frown as Fern thinks back a few days, "I think the guy who paid was named Clark. They weren't my table, so I didn't catch anyone else's names. I wonder if Jerry would remember?" she muses. "He's good about getting names, too." It typically makes people happy when you remember their name and use it, and they're all about making people happy. Happy customers tip well.

Justin offers a nod in response. The name Clark doesn't mean a whole lot to him right off the bat, but he knows a lot of people. And a lot more people know of him. Just knowing someone mentioned his name is a decent enough ego boost to help lift his mood. "Just as long as they weren't using my name in vain," he says with a grin.

Her nose wrinkles as Fern grins, "If they had, they'd have gotten an earful from me. No one says anything about my friends, customers or not." Which is exactly the attitude that tends to get her in trouble. There's a change in the pitch of the waves as the ferry slows it's engines as the dock nears. She reaches over quickly, giving his sleeve a sharp tug to make sure she has his attention, and she motions with her hands up to her head, "Cover your ears!" Her hands are flattened over her ears, and hopefully Justin gets his up in time, because about four seconds later the boat sounds the horn to announce it's approach.

Justin has a friend. Now THERE'S something that should make the papers! Given his usual attitude and nature, one wouldn't assume he has many of those. He smiles, though his expression drops quickly when Fern warns him to cover his ears. "Wait, what?" he has a chance to say before the boat's horn blares. He didn't get his ears covered quite in time, and winces visibly. It's been a long time since he road the ferry and he had completely forgotten about that. Blinking he rubs at his right ear, trying to get rid of the ringing.

Fern wobbles as the boat's pace changes again, and she winces in sympathy, one hand dropping to catch the railing, the other automatically reaching to help steady him if he wobbles as well. "Oh Justin, I'm so sorry! I always forget until that moment the speed changes. Are you ok?" She's experienced those horns unprotected and it's not something she'd wish on anyone.

Justin grabs the railing as well when the boat changes speed. It's starting to become clear why he doesn't ride the ferry, and either drives, has his driver drive him, or if he's feeling especially uppity, takes the company helicopter across town. Ouch. He lets Fern steady him as he shakes his head trying to clear it. "Well, I'm awake now," he comments in a sarcastic manner. "But I'm OK, it's good." He offers Fern a grin to let her know he won't hold this against her.

There's a laugh at the sarcasm, and Fern gives Justin's arm a light pat. "I'll make it up to you when you come back to the restaurant," she promises. "C'mon, I'll walk down with you." She turns, waiting expectantly for him to join her. "I might just get back on the next one out."

Straightening his vest and suit jacket, Justin falls in step with Fern. "As long as it's with that cannoli," he says with a light tone. "Was gonna see if you needed a ride anywhere after I collected my car, That is, if you tired of the seafaring adventure." His usual attitude is starting to return and he doesn't seem as weary as he was at the start of the trip.

Fern giggles, leading a step ahead toward the stairs down, "What else would I make up for it with?" She would have clattered down the stairs with her boots, but with the light sandals her step is light as well, and she waits until they get to the bottom to reply. "Thanks, but I think I'll make a couple more trips before I head home. I'm feeling piraty still. Come by soon, yeah?"

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Justin turns to face the young woman. He smiles pretty genuinely. "Most certainly," he says with a nod. "Ahoy, matey, good luck with yer pillaging and plundering." And here come the dorky comments that Hammer is so well known for. If they were limited to interactions like this, it wouldn't be such a problem. He offers a wave with his right hand then turns to head down the ramp and off the boat, his attitude a lot better than it was when he first boarded the ferry.