2013.06.26 - An Oasis of Peace

Summertime in New York City. Sweltering heat, humidity that rivals any respectable rain forest, and short tempers abound. Many denizens of the city find their way to Central Park, finding at least a small measure of relief from the late afternoon heat in the green space. Away from the maddening crowds, Turtle Pond, at the base of Belvedere Castle, is an oasis of peace, designated one of the park's 'quiet zones'. The noise of city traffic doesn't reach the serene, turtle infested pond, the playgrounds are far enough away that the noise of the children doesn't carry, and respect is paid to the serenity of the area. There are some people meandering around by the castle, but down closer to the pond's edge is a solitary figure with flaming red hair. Fern has found a place in the grass to sit, in the shade of a tree, close enough to the water to watch the turtles doing their turtle things. There's a book set aside near to hand, and her attention is on a particular Red-Eared Slider, poking his head up out of the shallow water of the little pool in which he's ensconced. Although she's got no blanket to sit upon, Fern looks less than worried about grass stains on her sundress. It's a boldly flowered print, so stains wouldn't likely show anyway. Bare feet are tucked aside, her sandals laying abandoned by the book, and she looks quite happy with her new friend, despite the heat and building clouds that threaten rain later in the evening.

Well, hasn't today been fun or entertaining so far, at least for one Justin Hammer. The TeXp0 setup that was supposed to take place today did not go well thank to some maniac that the press and police had referred to 'The Joker' showed up. Justin was evacuated from the scene by his security team, for once he actually listened to them. It was a good thing too, several of his employees were hurt in the incident, and he could have easily ended up among them. The whole area is still cordoned off, so there was nothing else that could be done today, and damage assessment would have to wait. It was a good day to just go home early.

After getting back home, Justin found himself unusually restless. He couldn't concentrate on anything, and had finally abandoned his home office to take a walk. His path took him into Central park, then across and toward the castle where it was quieter. Somewhere along the path he had taken off his suit coat, carrying it over his shoulder. When he gets close to the castle and the pond, he catches sight of Fern's red hair. It's a sharp contrast to the green grass, and easy to spot. He alters his course and heads her direction.

With her attention remaining on the little turtle head poking up out of the pond water, Fern is oblivious to Justin's approach. She leans forward, planting both hands on the grass, and, with his approach, Justin would surely be able to make out her voice as he draws nearer. "No, I think it's a fine idea, actually. Every turtle should have another turtle to spend their time with. And she's quite the looker," she says softly to the blank stare of the shelled creature. There is a pause before her voice rises again. "Well, no, but you won't know until you talk to her, will you?" With no one else nearby, it's apparent that she's conversing with the animal.

Hammer draws to a stop a short distance from Fern as she starts.... Talking to a turtle? He glances to the sides, no one else around, then back at the red headed woman. Either she's completely lost it, or maybe she can talk to animals. The thought gives him a pause, he had always assumed she was a normal. With all the weird stuff he's seen lately, it's not hard for him to jump to that conclusion. With a mild reserve in his voice he speaks up. "Uh, Fern? Are you talking to a turtle?" He stands there, suit coat held over his right shoulder, his left hand in his pants pocket, and a quizzical look on his face as he awaits a reply.

Fern's head swivels, one hand coming up as she straightens to shield her eyes from the sun as it peeks out amid the clouds. Justin is favored with her bright smile, his voice recognized before she even focuses on him. "Of course. Doesn't everyone?" The question is tossed out in a clearly friendly tease. "They don't talk back much, but it's ok. I fill in the blanks. And now I have you to talk to. You're a much better conversationalist." As she talks she rises to her feet easily, head tilting to the right as she regards the CEO. The maneuver puts the sun behind his head, and she lets her hand drop. There's no attempt to mask her delight at being joined by her friend. "It feels like forever since I've seen you. How are ya?"

Justin grins and chuckles lightly at the woman's response. Well, that sounded pretty sane, so chances are she's not nuts and probably still a normal. Though if Fern weren't normal, it might sway his opinion on mutants and metas slightly. "I can't imagine they would," he replies, "Though I'm glad to hear I'm a better conversationalist. Some folks would disagree with you, though." It takes him a second to calculate how to answer how he is, since in reality, he sort of hates the world at the moment. However, Fern's happiness has dulled that particular edge and he's able to come up with a milder response. "Been better, but ya know how it goes. How have you been holding up? I was shocked I didn't see you at the wedding." There were a lot of people there, he may have simply missed her in the crowd. Not that he would admit he had been looking for her.

While her sunny demeanor doesn't dim, concern touches Fern's eyes at the response from Justin, but she doesn't grill him immediately. "I'm good. I was home for a little while, back in Ohio. I was planning on going for the Fourth, but we moved things up. My grandfather's health has been kinda poor." She doesn't elaborate, instead waving one hand toward the grass where she had been sitting. "Can you spend some time?" The soft tease comes back into her voice and her smile, "I know you're a busy man, but maybe you could do with a turtle visit."

The CEO frowns lightly when he hears that Fern's grandfather isn't well. "I'm sorry to hear that, I wish him a speedy recovery." It's honest concern, too, not the fake stuff he dishes out to everyone else, even gods on occasion. He grins again when the woman asks if he can stay and chat. For Fern? Absolutely. "My boss gave me the rest of the afternoon off, so sure," Justin says, nodding. He glances down toward the grass, then back up at the woman. Ah, screw it, he can always have his suit cleaned. It's one of the darker ones anyway. He sits down on the grass, dropping the suit coat down beside him.

For a moment the brightness tempers on Fern's face, and there's gratitude for Justin's well wishes. "Thank you. He's a trooper, giving the nurses hell," she says, her smirk returning, and it might be thought that she takes after him in some ways. And with the acquiescence to her suggestion, the girl's fully sunshine is back. "I'll have to send something nice to your boss for being such a great guy." She folds down next to him, returning to the grass, tucking her legs aside again as she smooths her skirt modestly. Her own cares are put aside as she focuses on Justin. "So tell he how things are. You've looked happier."

"I've heard he likes canoli," Justin returns with a sideways glance and a grin. The question gets a shrug and the CEO looks out over the pond. "The usual, I guess... Been a bit more exciting that I would like. Some crazy lunatic that the cops called 'The Joker' crashed the TeXpO setup this morning. Bunch of people hurt, and they won't let me or anyone else back in to check on our equipment." Hopefully everything is still intact, and the prototypes that Hammer was going to show off at the expo are undamaged. And if he's really lucky, the health insurance premiums for his employees won't go up again.

Fern's brows lift with Justin's news, her eyes automatically shifting focus to travel him from tip to toe, although it would likely have been obvious by now if he'd been hurt himself. "Oh Justin, how terrible," she says, a light frown clouding her features as her eyes return to his face. "I hope everyone will be alright. You are though, right? You didn't get hurt?" Despite the visual once over, she's still got to ask, to be absolutely sure.

It never ceases to amaze Justin that Fern is so concerned about him. He chuckles, and nods. "I'm fine, my security staff got me out of there pretty quick. I think I missed most of the fun. I haven't heard back yet on any of my employees that were there, though." He still doesn't know what the hell was in the water guns that the creepy clown-mask guys had. It could have been anything, but at least it wasn't a biological contagion. After a brief once-over by medical personnel after the evacuation, Hammer was given a clean bill of health and let go. Looking toward Fern, he attempts a subject change. "Ran into yet another friend of yours. Here in the park, just Monday."

The young waitress's face eases again at the reassurance, a soft sigh of relief escaping her, "I'm so glad they did. Still, you must be beside yourself worrying about your employees." Fern raises her hand, gently patting Justin's arm, "I hope they'll all be alright." She goes with the change of topic, perhaps to pull the CEO's mind away from the troubles, and again her brows lift, this time in curiosity rather than concern. "Oh? Which friend would that be?" Her demeanor shifts easily back into her typical lightness, letting him lead them into calmer conversational waters.

Truth be told, until Fern said that, Justin was far more worried about the prototypes than his employees. If she knew that, he'd likely get slapped, he was sure. Still, her words do cause him to stop and think about it a moment. He shakes off the concern for either when the subject bounces back to a lighter one. "A teenager on roller blades, goes by Jubilee. No idea if that's her real name or not. Said she knew ya. And you won't believe how we ran into each other..." His face cracks into a smile and he shakes his head. Just thinking about it makes it ridiculous. How is he going to manage to tell the story with a straight face?

Now the sunshine is back in full force, from Fern if not quite from the clouding sky. "Jubilee? Gosh, I haven't seen her in forever either, I need to call her, see what she's been doing with her summer." She pauses, adding, "Although, apparently at least some of it has been spent rollerblading." Her smile comes in response to his own. "Did she run you down?" Oh please, let it not have been something having to do with the X-girl's underpants, although that totally wouldn't surprise Fern.

Nope, no underpants. Thank god. "No, didn't run me down..." Justin trails off, trying to keep a straight face. "No, we... We ended up battling a... Can you believe this, a human barbecue coal with..." Another pause. "God this sounds stupid saying out loud... With an ice cream vendor who gave me an ice cream gun. No kidding, true story." He just blurts the last part out to get it over with. He's still wondering if it wasn't all a really, really bad fever dream that was the result of his hangover from the wedding.

For a moment, Fern just blinks at Justin, as if she hadn't quite heard him, or didn't really comprehend what he'd said. While some might incredulously question the CEO's sobriety at this moment, Fern just lets out a held breath, looking lightly amazed. "Did you get to keep the gun? Man, an ice cream gun would be sweet, especially on days like today." Her smile blooms again, and she laughs softly, "The things that happen in this city, honestly. I take it you two won?" Seeing as how he's still here in one piece, it's a conclusion she's not hesitant to jump to.

Justin just shakes his head. He's questioning his own sobriety, he wouldn't blame anyone else for not believing him. Except, he has the evidence. "Actually, yeah. The ice cream vendor, who apparently invented the thing, left with the human B-B-Q coal before I could give it back. He apparently knew what the thing, guy- whatever- was, and had been waiting on one like him to show up. It was pretty messed up. But yeah, we won. And I'm apparently still a good shot."

Fern's eyes dance as she listens, amused since it's clear neither of her friends suffered damages. At least she assumes Justin would have mentioned it already if Jubilee had. "So what did you have to do? Was he burning, that B-B-Q guy?" Despite the absurdity of the tale, Fern doesn't think for a moment that Justin is having her on, it's pretty apparent that he's still processing it, rather than inventing it. She shifts, letting her legs stretch out, a lean onto her hand canting her toward her companion, blue eyes riveted to his face.

"It was really weird," Justin says, looking out over the pond as he tries to recall the event in as much detail as possible. He's definitely still processing it, not believing it himself. "He wasn't burning, really, just... Hot. The vendor said he could boil water by touching it, and he scorched the grass. And he was drying out real bad. Cracking, like mud on a dry river bed. Your friend, Jubilee, threw her ice cream, and mine, at'im. Then I shot him with the ice cream gun, right in the mouth. After that, he turned, err, normal? And the vendor disappeared with him and his ice cream cart. Strangest damned thing." Well, he's going to have to find a better way to tell the story before he has to recall it in front of Thor.

As Justin's tale unwinds, Fern's face sobers until the light frown is back. When she comments, it's in typical Fern style. "If he was drying out, I wonder if he was hurting, or in some kind of trouble. Maybe you two saved his life," she speculates, a note of excitement and admiration in her tone. With expressiveness that shifts as easily as a lava lamp in full flow, the smile curves again, "Whatever it was, you are clearly a hero again. You're making this a habit, Mister Hammer."

Hammer a hero. There's a thought. He grins and looks back toward the budding actress. "Jubilee mentioned that he seemed, the vendor that is, to wanna help the guy. So I guess, maybe we did." Though the major motivation, at the time, was to keep from getting burned to a crisp by the oncoming threat. Still, that part can get left out of the story. "So, when are we gonna get down to the range, Miss Fiddlehead?"

"I'm so proud of you," Fern says, her smile warm. "I know some absolutely amazing people." Her attention shifts as the conversation does once again, eyes settling on her feet, which she briskly rubs together to dislodge some grass clinging to her pink painted little piggies. "I've just got work for the next week or so, no auditions, so I'll have some free time if you can manage." She looks back up to Justin's face, adding, "But you have that.... what is it? A technospo?" she mangles.

Justin blinks and looks over at Fern. Someone's proud of him? Really? If he could just keep up the kind of behavior he manages around Fern when he's running his company or out in the general public maybe his reputation wouldn't be so poor. The woman's mispronunciation of the TeXpO gets a chuckle. "The expo may not even happen at this point. I have no idea. Besides, I won't be there for most of it, just wanted to oversee the setup."

Fern nods, "I hope it does, though. I mean," she adds, "Because it would mean everyone is ok." Again, the small woman moves, this time crossing her legs to sit 'indian style', carefully tucking her skirt to spare either of them any untoward embarrassment. He's managed not to have an encounter with Jubilee's underpants, he doesn't need a flash of hers. She brushes her hands together briskly, dislodging a few more pieces of grass. "Why don't you give me a call when you get news on it? I gave you my number, right?"

Oddly Justin hasn't fidgeted much, and is still pretty much in the same sitting position he was in when the conversation started. He shakes his head lightly. "I think i gave you my card, that has my cell number on it, but I don't have yours." He reaches over to start rifling through the pockets of his suit coat, pulling his phone out of one of them. He navigates through a couple screens, then offers it to the red head. It's set so she can type her number in using the on-screen keyboard.

Fern waits while Justin goes on his brief treasure hunt. "Huh, I thought I did. I still have your card." Although she's never been so presumptuous as to call him. He's an important man. She reaches over to accept the phone, her hand warm as it brushes against his as she takes possession. While she's not the fastest typist, using one index finger to do the work, she makes sure name and number are correct and ready to go. "There," she says, smiling as she offers it back. "So now you can call me, and we'll set a time."

Justin takes his phone back with a smile. Now Fern's number is in his contacts, along with senators, other elected officials, military personnel, business people and even a few members of foreign government. "Will do. When's the best time, since I know that waitressing can run some odd hours." And he doesn't want to call while she's working and possibly get her in trouble. Wait, did he just think abut someone else before himself? That can't be right.

If she knew the kind of company she was keeping among Justin's contacts Fern would likely be amazed and amused. A simple girl from small-town Ohio, running in such a rarefied circle. "This week I'll be working tomorrow night, I'm off on Fridays usually, then Saturday I do a long shift, and I'm off Sunday. Next week isn't scheduled yet, so it's pretty flexible. And I carry my phone muted at work, so call any time and you can leave a message if I don't pick up." One last bit of information is added, "Oh, and you can text too, if you want. Whatever you like." She glances upward, more clouds gathering to darken the skies, the sun now more hidden than beaming brightly. "I hope the rain breaks up this humidity. I hate it when everything gets sticky like this." As if in example, her hand drifts up absently, lifting the hair off the back of her neck. "You would think I'd be used to it, it gets horribly humid back home, too."

Instinctively Justin looks up when Fern does. He's thankful for the clouds, sitting out on the grass was starting to get hot, even with his suit jacket off. He nods. "I'll drop you a text or give you a call as soon as I know. I'm leaving town for business on the 3rd, so hopefully before that." Nodding in agreement to the humidity, he looks back out at the water. "I've lived here almost my whole life, and I'm still not a fan. Though I get the opposite end of the spectrum next week. Nevada has zero humidity."

Again, her curiosity gets the better of her and it shows in Fern's eyes as they drop from her assessment of the clouds to rest once more on Justin. "Business in Nevada?" she asks, then grins, a light note of good natured admonition taking her tone. "Don't you go losing all your money in Vegas, Justin." That's all there is in Nevada, right? Vegas. "Will you be gone for very long?"

Justin snort-chuckles. "You won't have to worry about that," he replies with a sidelong look. "I doubt I'll have time to even get to 'Vegas. Or Reno." If he's not going to Las Vegas or Reno, what would he be doing there? "Only going to be gone five days. I'll be back late on the 8th." He smirks. "Can't get rid of me for too long, sorry." He shifts, stretching his legs out in front of him and leaning back on his hands.

That's exactly the question that comes to Fern's mind, and she voices it without thinking just how nosy it might be. "You won't have time? Where will you be?" His smirk brings a shift as she reaches out to poke him lightly in the ribs, sighing dramatically. "It'll only seem like forever," she teases lightly.

"Ever heard of a place called Groom Lake?" Justin says in a low voice and with a straight face. It's not a secret anymore, the base has even had documentaries made about it, so he's not endangering national security by mentioning it. The poke in the ribs gets a visible jerk, as he wasn't expecting it, but he doesn't seem at all upset by it. "Hey, I bet you're the only person in New York who thinks that way," he retorts.

"Groom Lake?" Fern repeats, brows drawing together. "I've never heard of it, no. Is it some sort of resort?" She could picture an oasis in the desert that she imagines comprises the entirety of that state, but for the bright lights of Las Vegas. Reno isn't even a blip on her radar. "Bet I'm not," she adds flippantly to his retort. "Bet there'll be a dozen other girls pining for you."

Justin shakes his head with a broad grin. "No, not a resort," he says, "It's a military base. Look it up if you get a chance." He doesn't elaborate, and will let Fern figure out the rest for herself, if she wants to. To the comment about the girls, he snorts. "I wish," he says without much forethought as to how it may sound.

Fern's head tilts, and she nods, "I'll look it up next time I go to the library." Not that she'll chase down the information in books, but she uses the library computers for things like that, not having her own. Mental note made, Fern wrinkles her nose at Justin indulgently, clearly not buying his protest. "Whatever, Justin," she says lightly, with a grin. Before she can tease him about it more, a distant crack of thunder draws her eyes up again. Her nose wrinkles again, but this time it's something more of a twitch as she draws in a quick breath of air. "Smells like the rain is getting closer." Outside of the park the general pollution and exhaust mask such a simple scent, but in the green space it's easier to pick up. "Hey," she adds, a sly note coming with an equally sly look to the weapons maven, "What kind of ice cream does that gun shoot?" Nope, she hasn't forgotten about it.

Justin quirks a brow at the whatever. "What?" he questions, though he stops at the thunder, glancing roughly in the direction it came from. Not that it's easy to pinpoint, giving that it echoes off the distant buildings. "Yeah, may want to be heading home soon..." Rolling his eyes Hammer shakes his head again. "I think it was loaded with chocolate, but from what I can tell, it can shoot just about any flavor. Very versatile design. Maybe I'll bring it to the range for ya."

Fern leans, scooping up her book and her sandals, not bothering to slip them onto her feet. "Chocolate is good. Mint chocolate chip is better," she says meaningfully, then grins at him. "I think it'll be fun, I'm looking forward to it." Holding her sandals by the straps, the book cradled against her chest, Fern uses her free hand to brace against Justin's shoulder as she pops to her feet. "Don't get caught in the rain, sugar, you'll melt," she quips. "And don't forget to call. Or text. And let me know when you get back from your trip." She mother hens because she cares, especially with the crazy things that have been happening to Justin lately.

Justin doesn't protest when Fern uses him for leverage. Once she's on her feet he stands himself, grabbing his suit jacket as he does. He looks back at the building clouds as he slings the jacket back over his shoulder. He just grins at yet another kind comment from the young waitress- she's going to spoil him- then nods. "I only live a couple blocks away, so I think I'll be alright. 'Promise I'll keep you posted." He gives her a slight bow at the waist, more for dramatic effect than any sort of real courtesy. "Until then, good day."

The slight bow almost knocks Justin's head into Fern's as she steps in quickly for a one-armed squeeze around his waist accompanied by a giggle at their contrasting movements. "Talk soon, Mister Hammer," she promises, taking a few backward steps before turning, following a path in her bare feet. A few steps away she turns again, bringing one hand up for the universal symbol of 'call me', a fist with thumb and pinky extended, held beside her face. A fast wave and she's on her way, a skip in her step before she disappears.