[Hayley runs. Although she knows it to be a more obviously suspicious way of getting around, the girl doesn't have time to waste. Superman could awaken at any moment and she really needs to be there when he does to have any hope of reconciling the situation. Clark has too many friends and she likes him too much more than she'll admit to want to leave it like that.
She sees Bruce from a distance and immediately course corrects to head straight for him. Her breathing is almost heavy by the time she reaches him, not used to running for so long, and she slows only when almost in front of him.]
I'll check in in three hours. [She huffs, already reaching into her bag.]
[Bruce, on the other hand, has the steady even breaths of someone who runs every morning as a survival skill. He's reflexively checking his wrist monitor as he comes to a stop in front of her, but it's good, at a safe rate, proving that his constant militant practice has a purpose.
He nods shortly, opening the flap on the battered leather messenger bag he'd brought with him, ready for whatever she's handing over.]
And tomorrow morning, [he insists, because incurable paranoia is a way of life for him by now.] If you need a place to stay tonight, you can use mine. [Even if she's done something wrong, she's just a kid. She shouldn't have to suffer for her mistakes the way Bruce has, and has always had to. She should have a chance.]
[Hayley tugs the sweater-wrapped bundle from her bag and hands it over to him, sweater and all. She wonders if Bruce could recognize Tony's handiwork in the lead box that houses the Kryptonite and does her best to explain quickly, still both hurried and afraid.]
You can unwrap it, but do not open the box. And don't mention it to anyone until we talk. [She pointedly meets his gaze, because she knows how close he and Tony are.] Anyone.
[Then she's glancing at her watch, closing her bag, and trying as best she can to reclaim her normal breathing rate.] I'll be there. Tonight. Thanks.
[He's relatively close with Tony, but Bruce has absolutely no trouble keeping secrets from anyone. There's a whole swath of things he'd never told Betty, and this isn't nearing that level of disclosure.
He does wonder where she got a lead box, but he doesn't question it, instead carefully depositing the bundle into his bag, securing it.] I can handle that, [he assures her with relative poise.]
I'll wait for you. [There's no flicker of a smile, no hint of reassurance, just Bruce's sober gaze and quiet intensity.]
[Hayley nods and turns, taking a few steps before she catches herself. She pauses and turns around to look at him, her solemnity mirroring his own. There's some part of her that doesn't quite understand why he's doing this for her and knows it's a risk to trust him with this, even though he's proven to be good to his word in past. But that distrusting part of her is currently buried beneath the panic of an unexpected situation and so there's something more important that draws her attention now.]
Thank you.
[It hangs there, isolated. It's amazing how many thanks he gets, the sincere and weighted kind that she gives so infrequently. Then she's turning and running off again, anxious to get back and continue working on her next steps as instructed.]
[Bruce is pretty scarce with genuine thanks, too, and he appreciates it when he hears it, waving a hand in brief acknowledgement before turning to go himself. She doesn't owe him anything, not in his mind. The thanks aren't even necessary.
He takes the injunction not to open the box seriously. Someone else might be tempted by curiosity and eventually overcome, but not Bruce. He'd been down that path and he'd been burned so fiercely that he has no desire to risk it ever again.
He returns back to his apartment and carefully hides the entire bag where he keeps his physical notes on his condition, in the kitchen in a cupboard with a false back that he'd installed himself. Maybe no one here was specifically out to get him, but Bruce didn't see any reason to relinquish hard earned habits.
Settling in to wait, he makes some tea to calm himself, and musters all of his patience. In the meantime, he might as well do some work-- his standard time filler.]
no subject
She sees Bruce from a distance and immediately course corrects to head straight for him. Her breathing is almost heavy by the time she reaches him, not used to running for so long, and she slows only when almost in front of him.]
I'll check in in three hours. [She huffs, already reaching into her bag.]
no subject
He nods shortly, opening the flap on the battered leather messenger bag he'd brought with him, ready for whatever she's handing over.]
And tomorrow morning, [he insists, because incurable paranoia is a way of life for him by now.] If you need a place to stay tonight, you can use mine. [Even if she's done something wrong, she's just a kid. She shouldn't have to suffer for her mistakes the way Bruce has, and has always had to. She should have a chance.]
no subject
You can unwrap it, but do not open the box. And don't mention it to anyone until we talk. [She pointedly meets his gaze, because she knows how close he and Tony are.] Anyone.
[Then she's glancing at her watch, closing her bag, and trying as best she can to reclaim her normal breathing rate.] I'll be there. Tonight. Thanks.
no subject
He does wonder where she got a lead box, but he doesn't question it, instead carefully depositing the bundle into his bag, securing it.] I can handle that, [he assures her with relative poise.]
I'll wait for you. [There's no flicker of a smile, no hint of reassurance, just Bruce's sober gaze and quiet intensity.]
no subject
Thank you.
[It hangs there, isolated. It's amazing how many thanks he gets, the sincere and weighted kind that she gives so infrequently. Then she's turning and running off again, anxious to get back and continue working on her next steps as instructed.]
skipping to that night? or holding off for now?
He takes the injunction not to open the box seriously. Someone else might be tempted by curiosity and eventually overcome, but not Bruce. He'd been down that path and he'd been burned so fiercely that he has no desire to risk it ever again.
He returns back to his apartment and carefully hides the entire bag where he keeps his physical notes on his condition, in the kitchen in a cupboard with a false back that he'd installed himself. Maybe no one here was specifically out to get him, but Bruce didn't see any reason to relinquish hard earned habits.
Settling in to wait, he makes some tea to calm himself, and musters all of his patience. In the meantime, he might as well do some work-- his standard time filler.]