capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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WHO: Amanda Waller and Hank McCoy
WHERE: The suite they share at the Xavier Institute
WHEN: Sunday night
WARNINGS: None I know of?
SUMMARY: Hank comes home from his impromptu San Francisco adventure to find his apartment isn't empty!
FORMAT: WHATEVER

It had been a long couple of weeks for Hank as he shuffled his way down the hall. Stuck in the same clothes, but heavens knows where his tie had gotten to, and very uncomfortably aware of his own body odor. Not really the mood exactly to meet anyone in, he just wanted to take a long bath and sleep the night away before letting anyone know he was back.

His phone battery had died some days prior, so he wasn't exactly sure of the time as he dug out his keys (thank goodness he'd remembered those) and opened the door. Finding the lights already on was the last thing he'd expected.

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She'd been spending hours, days, running over news, checking contacts, trying to get any sign of a giant, furry, blue man, wherever they might be in the world, and coming up with nothing. It was worrying, but also incredibly frustrating, to see that her information network could come up so short when she really needed it.

Only two people had keys to this place, so hearing no struggle or forced entry kept her from instinctively grabbing at her gun. That, and hope, pricking up in her head, already building up momentum, as she stood up from her desk, and steadied her breath. Stepping down the hallway, forcing herself not to rush before she got out into the open.

And found him standing right in the doorway.

"Hank." Is all she said at first, as a rare show of something more of a trembling smile curled up at the edges.

"Amanda!" What he would like to do is rush in and wrap his arms around her, give her some kind of proper welcome. But, at the same time, he couldn't help thinking about how badly he must smell.

So, instead, he ends up standing in the doorway dumbfounded, his arms half up, standing there awkwardly as if ready to break out into a sprint. "Wh-when did you return?"

"June twenty first, and I've been looking for you ever since, you goddamn..." Well if he won't do it, she will, she's been a ball of anger and nerves, knowing he was out there, but not knowing where.

So she ran up and hugged around that blue fur, laughing in relief. Breathing in, sighing out.

"You smell like crap." And she laughs again.

Okay, he'll give in, leaning down and tossing his arms around her with a gentle squeeze. "Y-yes, well, that I do. It's a long story."

He felt exhausted, and found himself resting his head on her shoulder. "I tried to tell Rachel it was nothing to worry about, sudden absence notwithstanding. My phone had other ideas."

"So I heard. No communication, no anything. Did payphones even work, or what...?" Amanda just found it boggling that all forms of communication would be locked out to them, beyond just their normal ones.

She patted him on the back, though.

"Look, how about you get a shower, I call some takeout, you can tell me all about it, and then we'll make up for lost time."

Another squeeze in turn.

"Missed you." Stated simply, quietly.

"I don't know what it was, but the payphones kept spitting out my change!"

He sighed and slumped his shoulders. "I missed you, too. It's...been a rough few months in your absence."

Right, but the smell. "But I won't tarry long, we can swap stories once I'm more tolerable to be around! I'm sure you'll have just as much to tell." And then he kissed her on the cheek and headed for the washroom.

She squinted at that. "Yeah, alright, something of that level, over that distance, for that long, is either Lachesis or some sort of trickster god fucking with you." Guess that put more foundation for one theory about this whole mess.

Didn't actually wonder too much about those 'rough months'. She had read up on Hank in the time he had been gone. All in all, it was better to see him this way, smelling of sweat and god knows what else, than in a jail cell.

"Throwing out the word tarry like it was the most normal thing in the world...yeah, that's my Hank..." Breathed out, so relieved, and already calling in food for the night. To hell with cooking.

It's about an hour before he emerged again, slightly damp and smelling like papaya. He was only in his boxers, with a towel around his neck and a brush working through his mane when he plopped down on the couch.

"I hope it hasn't gotten cold already! Sorry I took so long, but now I want to hear everything that's happened since I last saw you."

God. Summer heat must have been killing him, wearing all those clothes back home. She sighs out, and leans over into him. Missing this kind of comfort, badly.

New Orleans style sandwiches sit on the coffee table.

"Well, me being back home, means I was doing the job I still had back home. Still doing covert ops, still doing things I'm not entirely proud of, but felt necessary. That someone had to do them, better me than someone else." Sighed out. It was such a sharp twist, how she felt by herself, and how she felt when Hank was around.

But she felt she had to be honest with him on this, at the least. Their relationship couldn't stand on secrets. Or at least, not tons of them.

"Last thing I did before ending up here was turn down the stupidest request I've ever gotten in my history in the business."

It's easier to hear when there's a distance to it, when he can distance himself from the whole matter. He was too tired to do much more than sit here with his lady and catch up with her. ...Though a sandwich could be negotiated as well.

He reaches in for one of them with his foot and places an arm around her shoulder. "And just what was that?"

"Asking for either backup or evacuation from a group of agents gone rogue, intentionally going out to attack one of the world's premiere superheroes, and bringing down basically the world's premiere superteam on themselves while they did it."

She snorts out. God, the Secret Six were goddamn idiots at that moment.

"All in all, I'm glad to be back here."

"Facing a mess of that level, I doubt I could blame you for having such a preference. Better food and better company to share it with." He passes a sandwich from his toes to his hand, and offers it to her.

"How's Global Dynamics looking, now that I'm sure you've taken the reins once more?"

"It's the same business, Hank. And I haven't cared much yet. In fact, I don't care right now. Because I've been all kinds of worked up wondering what the hell happened to you."

"So right now, I don't actually want to talk shop."

And an arm reaches around to hold him closer.

"Love you."

He draws her in just the same, nuzzling against her as a low, involuntary purr rises from somewhere in his throat. "Love you more. Even if Lachesis insists on conspiring against us so often."

"I really am deeply sorry I couldn't be here when you arrived..."

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