Moving In, Moving On

February 13, 2015:

Hunter helps Bobbi move into her new place and she tells him about why she and Clint divorced.

Bobbi's Apartment - East Village - NYC

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Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Now that Bobbi is back to being based out of NYC full time, she's broken down and bought an apartment in a brownstone co-op on 2nd street, between Avenues A and B. It's not far from the Triskelion to make her work commute easy, but it's a whopping 700 or so square feet. Not a studio, it has a separate bedroom at least, but the price tag would make most people choke for such little space.

Hand-scraped very dark hardwood floors are offset by pale grey walls and crisp white wood trim. The living area and kitchen are open to one another, both compact but utilitarian. A small doorway leads to a tiny but efficient desk area, and a door into a bedroom proper. The bathroom is small but has a lovely clawfoot tub with a shower rail.

Bobbi is in jeans and a Star Wars t-shirt as she carries box after box into the apartment. The furniture was delivered and assembled already, as Spartan as one has to be in this type of apartment. It's all very modern, white leather sectional, two person glass breakfast table, smoky acrylic chairs and end tables, and lots of chrome. She sets a box of dishes on the kitchen counter with a thud. "Home sweet home."

*

Hunter has been helping her, his arms full of boxes, the jeans and t-shirt style copied there. His t-shirt is an ancient band one, the band long since disbanded and gone. He puts the box of books onto the table, turning to grin at her. "So, when should I bring my stuff over?" Definitely a joke, the commitment shy man not even leaving a toothbrush at her place. Borrowing hers now, that is different. "Got anything to drink in?" The man looks literally hot, the boxes of books he carried heavy. "Love the view." He isn't looking at the window, but at her behind.

*

Bobbi slices open the tape on the box of kitchenware on the counter and pulls out a drinking glass, handing it over. "I put some bottled water in the fridge. Don't know if the tap water is safe yet. Have to run some tests back at the Triskelion." That's probably a joke. Probably. She begins putting things away and smirks as she sets each glass into place in an upper cabinet. "I assume you're looking at my ass, since all that's out the window is the brownstone on the other side of the street," she quips. She knows he's joking about moving in too. "And puhleeze. There's barely enough room for me in here."

*

He takes the glass, opening the bottle from the fridge, and just swigging it, putting the glass on the side. "Oh gee, and here was me thinking we were going to married again, and I was going to stay at home, keeping house." Sarcasm, just one service the Brits offer. "Well, all of it, the package…" He makes a face, pretending to oogle her. "And I was going to have your baby too…" A sniff, and he turns away, taking a swig of his water.

*

In an uncharacteristic moment of clumsiness, Bobbi drops one of the glasses into the sink, where it shatters. She's gone very pale; clearly something he said hit her very hard. "Dammit," she rasps out, as she begins mechanically picking the shards out of the stainless basin with slightly shaking hands.

*

He turns back, frowning, and he heads towards her, crouching to pick up a couple of shards that flew. "Bobbi?" The question that is her name is asked softly, his eyebrows drawn together. "I can't work out if I upset you with the threat, or with the memories or…" He shakes his head, reaching out to touch her shoulder gently.

*

"No, not your fault, you had no way of knowing…" Bobbi says softly. Her hand covers his for a moment, before she goes back to cleaning up the mess she made. "The reason Clint and I divorced. It was more complicated than just simply falling out of love." She shakes her head a bit and lets out a breath. Glass gets chucked into an already emptied moving box as she plucks each shard up.

*

Hunter leans against the side, watching her thoughtfully. "Do you want to tell me?" The question is genuine, and Bobbi knows if she shuts that topic down, he won't ask more. "I moved into my place." By which, he means he dropped off his night bag, and his sleeping bag, and some of his weapons.

*

Bobbi pauses for a moment. "You have a right to know, I think," she murmurs. She takes a bit to compose herself. "October 12th, 2013. That would have been the baby's birthdate. We were going to tell everyone at twelve weeks, but at ten, I miscarried." She swallows past the boulder-sized lump in her throat, gritting her teeth. "It was bad. Dangerous. I wanted to try again but Clint, he was terrified of losing me and another baby. We couldn't talk to each other about it, couldn't face each other. So we took missions as far from each other as we could. And last Valentine's Day I served him papers." She leans her hands heavily on the counter and chews her lower lip.

*

Hunter listens, his face impassive for a time, the merc… independent military contractor practiced at hiding his emotions, especially from Bobbi. He reaches out when she swallows though, his hand tugging her shoulder towards him, towards a hug. "I see." The soft words are just that, with no judgement in them. He reaches to hug her, whispering softly, "I promise not to get pregnant, Bobbi."

*

Bobbi burrows against his shoulder, fighting against crying but watering at the eye regardless. "Shut up. Not funny," she grunts out. "It wasn't planned but when we found out…I wanted that baby. I wanted to be a mother. And I failed at it. And then I failed at my second marriage. And now we're farming things out to super heroes because we're not good enough even at our jobs and…" Well there's a lot of loss and fear of failure issues going on right there.

*

"Really?" He sounds disappointed he didn't make her laugh. "You wouldn't want to imagine me puking every morning?" He hugs her tightly, his hand going to her hair to stroke it. "You didn't fail, Bobbi, it wasn't the right time. He wasn't the right person for you." His voice does have certainty, and he kisses the top of her head. "And we aren't failing. Hell, my security doesn't get me in the door, luv."

*

"I don't have to imagine that. I've seen you the morning after benders, remember?" Bobbi snorts, muffled by his t-shirt. She pulls herself back together and leans back, wiping at her eyes and nodding. "I know, I know but it just hangs there over me and occasionally jabs me in the heart with a pain so sharp I marvel at not seeing a blade sticking out of my chest. This whole JL:A thing and Clint and Kate, and all of this has just dredged up a lot of crap for me." She gives him a small smile though, and strokes his stubbly cheek. "Thank you for being here for me though. It means a lot, having you back in my life. I've missed you, Lance."

*

"See? Would you want that for me? Make me all fat and u…ug…ugly?" He is sniffing, teasing her now, sarcasm and humour a safer place than emotion for him. "I missed you." He reaches out, ruffling her hair, messing it up properly, before he reaches to tickle her, a mock attack, anything to avoid talking about emotions.

*

The tickling has Bobbi shrieking and smacking him in the chest. "Stop that. I can still throw you out the window. It's only the third floor but don't think it won't hurt when you land on the moving van!" she threatens. She knows he's dodging the conversation. He can see the momentary hurt in her eyes, but she covers it quickly, spy that she is.

*

He grabs at her, changing pace to kiss her, holding her tightly to her, before he whispers, "If you really want to get me pregnant…" Teasing but replying to the hurt, in his way. "Besides, you wouldn't get your deposit back if you threw me out the window." He wraps his arms around her waist, picking her up, taking her towards the sofa to throw her over the back of i.

*

"You forget I have a PhD in biochemistry. I might start researching how to get you pregnant for real!" Bobbi threatens with a laugh as she lands on the couch and pulls him down with her. "But we can practice as much as you want."

*

Hunter lands over her, bracing an arm on one side to avoid crushing her. "Well that would mean lots of experimentation …" He lowers his head, kissing her rather thoroughly. "You've got a box or ten in the van, luv. We can shag, or move boxes. What do you prefer?"

*

Bobbi glances at her watch. "I have the van for another 2 hours, we can take a break." She winks at him, and her answer is pretty clear.

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