13005/A Hawk Retrieves a Dove

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A Hawk Retrieves a Dove
Date of Scene: 09 October 2022
Location: E04 - Empty Dorm - Titan's Tower
Synopsis: A simple car ride turns out to be so much more.
Cast of Characters: Hank Hall, Dawn Granger




Hank Hall has posed:
    There was a certain electric thrill that was running through Hank Hall's body as he sits in the traffic, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. Breathing. Yes, there were a number of cars in front of him, and they were all going to the same place, and he had no idea why they could not just _all go at a normal speed_, but he had also set himself with plenty of time to get to the airport to pick up Dawn. Breathing. It would be fair to accuse him of the occasional bit of road rage. But it was more than that. It had been such a struggle to maintain equilibrium with Dawn gone. He had _just_ managed to find what he had not even realized he had lost when his brother Don was killed, and then Dawn's path had taken her away again. What was he supposed to do, call her a week after she left and say that he had found himself with two hands of busted knuckles and a suspension from the force? No, he could not exactly do that. Or even approximately do that. She was just starting to come to grips with what she was. They were just starting to come to grips with what they were. Foisting something like that on her - it would not end well. For either of them. But mostly for him.
    Dawn did not need chaos to live her life, although it may have been a little boring. Hank needed the influx of order that she brought to survive his weeks. And that was not a weight that he wanted her to bear. Not now, when they still barely knew each other. Not ever. And if she found out, what would she do? He thought he knew her well enough, thought she would stay, stick it out. But did he want her to?
    He had managed to find some coping mechanisms after that first week. They weren't great. Some of them weren't exactly legal. But they worked, at least when he did not get too worked up on the job. He had taken a sabbatical from the Titans - _that_ level of danger and violence was not something he could walk away from, punch away from, drink away from. Not without her. The Titans understood, of course. The last thing they wanted was Hawk-rage. They got enough of that from the villains they faced. And he never wanted to see himself become the villain.
    His hand slams on the wheel, sounding the horn. "Come ON, there is plenty of space!" he calls to the driver of the car in front of him. Not that he or she can hear him, of course. But it makes him feel better. Somewhat.
    Five minutes until Dawn's plane is scheduled to land. Five minutes according to the GPS from the curb where she would emerge. But it has said five minutes for the past ten. He would get there. He just needed to breathe.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Thankfully, Dawn Granger packed light. A simple carry-on meant no waiting at baggage claim and she could make her way towards the exterior door from the arrivals before things got too crowded. At least, that was the intent. One hand pulls the rolling carry-on bag, the other tucking her purse over her shoulder. She could fish out her phone to check on Hank, but she figures that she should be able to spot him once she gets outside.
    Despite her well thought out plans of avoiding the crowd, the tangle of cars waiting for passengers is doing just that--waiting for passengers. Passengers that are still milling around the baggage claim. So much for the attempt to beat the crowd. The automatic doors open to let her out onto the sidewalk and she first positions herself on the curb where she can easily be seen.
    After a moment or two, she realizes the cars are practically not moving and it's just as easier for her to search for him. Moving down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the slow moving cars, she stops every once in a while to peek towards the cars to check for Hank.

Hank Hall has posed:
    The best laid plans. The GPS has Hank two minutes away from Dawn's airline's concourse, and has been for five solid minutes. And unless her plane landed late, she has already been on the ground. But if she checked her bag, she would still be in the baggage carousel. He was almost there. The cars _were_ inching forward, and he would be pulling up to that airline soon.
    Panic rises briefly as he wonders what will happen when he gets there. How long can he stall, if Dawn _has_ checked a bag? He could pull out his badge, but after a suspension and another warning recently, the last thing he needed was to explain why he was flashing his authority to try to linger longer to pick up his...friend? Partner?...at the airport. He had to be close enough, by his thoughts. He just needed to _get there_! She was going to come out any minute and look around and not find him and wonder if he had forgotten and then have to dig out her phone and call him and THERE IS AN OPENING!
    Hank guns the engine to pull forward the three car lengths that suddenly opened up, but has to stop short as a Ferrari zips in before he does. Slamming on the brakes, he avoids a squeal but the car shakes back and forth. A string of expletives flow freely as his knuckles turn white, not so much from the near collision but from the very real possibility that Dawn would come out and he would _still be_...
        What was he so worried about, really? Would Dawn really care if she waited a few minutes for him? No, so why did he put the pressure on himself? Why was he letting this get to him, when... He blinks as he feels the frustration and anger start to melt away as the realization hits that really, it is just ok. She won't care. Why didn't he just realize that before? And that is when he sees her walking in his direction. Of course.
    He lets loose a breath he had not even realized he was holding. His knuckles slowly release their death grip on the wheel. The flush in his face starts to fade. He can _feel_ the aggression draining out of him, as if the adrenaline was sucked directly from his body. Dawn was here. Close. And she was coming to him.
    Hank leans out the window and waves, tooting the horn quietly, a friendly smile on his face. Serenity had arrived in the form of Dawn Granger.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Hank's smile is returned with a bright one from Dawn. The chaos of the airport was a mess, but it wasn't something she couldn't navigate. She steps off the curb, suitcase carefully lifted downwards so as not to thump it against the curb as she moves towards the car. With the speed at which the cars are moving, she easily makes her way to Hank's car. Opening the back door, she slides her suitcase in there rather than the trunk to save time so they can tetris their way out of the mess sooner.
    Opening the front passenger door, Dawn takes a seat and shuts the door behind her, letting out a tired huff of air. "You know, I don't know that I'll ever get used to flights that are nearly eight hours long," she comments, reaching back for her seatbelt and buckling it before turning to face Hank now that she's settled.
    "Hi. Thank you so much for coming to get me. Airports are exhausting."

Hank Hall has posed:
    It is a certain sort of magic - or the divine influence - that the entirety of Hank's disposition changed as soon as Dawn grew close enough. Silently he is thankful that it did, and she did not see the state he was in mere moments before she came into view. But she was here, and he was calm, and all was well in the world. "Of course, I wouldn't want to leave you to navigate this chaos on your own." He flashes a bit of a grin. "You might distract yourself by trying to fix it, and never make it home."
    Seeing that she is secured, Hank turns his attention back to the road. Is it mere fortune that her arrival leads to a slow easing of the traffic, and Hank able to pull through without frustration? Or is it simple the calming effect making it _feel_ less aggravating? The latter, most likely, but it still makes it fluid enough as Hank moves through the cars heading towards the exit to the airport loop.
    "I think I would lose my mind if I had to sit for that long in a flying sardine can." He glances at her with a smile. "Glad you managed to make it intact. I wish I had something exciting to tell you, but you haven't missed much."
            ...that he cares to tell her about, that is.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Dawn can't hide a grin in response to the suggestion of her trying to fix the chaos of an airport. "Sometimes I'm a realist, Hank. No one will *ever* be able to organize the chaos of an airport, not even me." She rests her head against the headrest, beaming even if she's tired. "I have to agree it is a sardine can. I swear they make the seats smaller every time I fly. Usually it's calm enough to sleep for at least part of it, so I'm well rested."
    She grins at him. "Never want to travel, Hank? I promise the planes are something you get used to." Dawn glances over at him. "I actually think that nothing exciting is a good thing in this case. I'd hate to come back and find out someone had destroyed the majority of the eastern seaboard or something." She tips her head towards him. "You taking care of yourself?"

Hank Hall has posed:
    "Oh, I don't know. I would _never_ count you out from being able to organize anything, Dawn." Hank glances at her to showcase his brilliant grin before looking back to the cars ahead. "I think they do, every little inch they can cram in, another few passengers, makes them some more money, so why not?" He moves the car easily through the traffic, a calm, relaxed pace. Even close to the speed limit. It might help that he really is in no hurry to arrive at their destination.
    "I am sure there will be some travel at some point, but really, I could do without it. I'm telling you, we are far better off not. You know how they have all those warnings, 'Careful, contents under pressure, do not bring on an airplane?'" He laughs and nudges her gently with his elbow. "Playing with fire, that would be." Her question though brings back a bit of solemnity. "Yeah, I have." He tries to play it off with another grin. Another joke. "If I relied on the Titans to do it, I'd end up far too colorful for my own liking."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Dawn laughs. "So much faith in me, thank you, but I think airports are at the limit of my skills," she replies, glancing in his direction. She can't hide a grin at his joke. "I'm sure you'd be fine with the right travel buddy keeping you cool," she teases before she glances forward, watching them navigate traffic. Now that she's in the car around him, the stresses of the airport seem less like a frazzled mess and more in measured order.
    "You're probably right about colorful," she agrees. "You'd also have gained ten pounds from the snacks they have there and learned some kind of weird alien word or two."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "You'd be amazed the miracles the right partner can bring," Hank murmurs, almost without thinking it. His eyes remain on the road, still, and for the moment at least he does not dare look to see how those words land with Dawn. He does not want to push things, make her feel and sense just how much he needs her. He _cannot_ afford to do that. Maybe he should have looked, and seen how he seems to help her as well. But alas.
    "Shazbot!" He exclaims, before laughing, and this time he does turn to regard her. "Yeah, the snacks are definitely not on my strict regimen. Too many of them need to pack away the calories to feed their powers. It's insane! Have you seen how much Bart eats?"

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Dawn catches the comment, but it's hard to tell her exact reaction as she also looks forward. She laughs at the exclamation, shaking her head a bit. "I'm glad my appetite is normal and I don't need the extra calories. I think Caitlin has some kind of bar or cookie or brownie in a mini-fridge somewhere that's so packed full of calories one of us wouldn't need to eat for days."
    She pauses. "You know, I'm not even going to ask them how much their takeout costs. I think every time I've passed a table there's been pizza there. I bet they have a running tab." She grins back in his direction. "I'm really glad you're doing okay, though, I was a little worried."
    After all, Europe pulled her away just after they started figuring out the whole Hawk and Dove thing. It was enough of an abrupt change to cause her to worry.

Hank Hall has posed:
    That evokes a laugh. "Oh, I could only imagine would what happen if I accidentally ate a Flash bar. I'd probably gain 40 pounds overnight." Hank pats his belly. "And then I'd never get this six pack back." He nods at the pizza. "I don't even know how they can afford it. Someone with deep pockets must be bankrolling that Tower, and it isn't Tony Stark." A pause. "Unless it secretly is." He shrugs, hand returning to the wheel.
    He nods quietly. Thoughtful. Part of him is screaming at him to tell her. How dark he went, how fast. How much he needed her. Insisting that she would understand. And that she would not leave again if he did so. But he did not want to be an anchor for her. He was a grown man, and he had to deal with his own issues. He _would_ find a way to manage this. For him. And for her. So instead, he just smiles as he turns to look at her. "Nothing to worry about at all." The lie comes easily. Suppressing the shouting voice not so much.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "I'm sure some billionaire covers the pizza budget. An allowance for saving a life or something seems like a fair exchange," Dawn seems terribly amused at the secret bankroll of food funds that the Titans somehow have, then glances back at him at the mention of not worrying. "Well, *I'm* glad to be back at least. I was stressed the entire time I was there, don't think I even had much of a second to relax at all. It must have been jetlag or something, but it's much better now that I'm here."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "I wonder if someone back in the day, unknowingly, did that." Hank chuckles. "Like, I don't know, maybe Donna got in front of a bus that was going to mow down some rich dude's mother, and ever since then we've been living off that one act." He laughs. "You know, no small good deeds, and all." He seems to fall at ease as his answer seems to work. But then he arches an eyebrow, as he turns to look at her. "You?" He laughs. "Let me guess, someone kept coming in and rearranging the remotes while you were out, or just you _thought_ they did, and so everything seemed unsettled?" He laughs softly. But for the first time he starts to wonder - is it possible this actually went both ways?

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "I bet that's what happened," Dawn agrees. "Even if the Titans tell me otherwise, I'm going to keep believing it's a secret gratitude budget from someone rich. Better story anyway." She nods at him, then glances back towards the street. "Laugh it up, I shoved the remotes in the bedside drawer," she chuckles. "No, wasn't quite that. More like it was just harder to focus. Got in my head too much, overthinking things a little, I think. Like I said, probably jet lag. I'm better this time, though, guess it's just the trip over that hits me. Time zones are killer."
    She looks back over at him. "I swear, if no one actually goes around putting that pizza away, I'm going to do it."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "Does Donna have a sugar daddy taking care of all of us?" Hank grins at the notion. "I wonder who it is...Musk? Bezos? Luthor?" He arches an eyebrow at Dawn. "This is a fun game." Then his attention returns to the road as the reach the exit, slipping from the highway back to the city streets. He nods as she relates her issues over there, contemplating them. "Uh. You know." He licks his lips, eyes fixing on the traffic light that appears before them. A yellow that he _could_ have made it through, with ease likely, but he stops instead.
    "It might be something to it, you know." He meets Dawn's gaze. "You know, you there, me here, it was..." He pauses, as if searching for the words to say. He knows them, of course, but can he bring himself to say them?
    The honking of the angry driver behind him breaks the sentence off. "Someone's in a hurry," he mutters as he starts to move the car forward again with the light having turned green.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "It could be *any* of the Titans, really, although I like this Donna stopping a bus story. I'm almost tempted to search the internet for billionaires and see who seems to make the most compelling story. Visiting dignitary?"
    When their gazes meet, Dawn's expression turns thoughtful at the suggestion. While Hank focuses back on driving, she watches him for a brief moment more before she glances out the windshield. "I hadn't thought about it like that, honestly. That connection, it's..."
    She's silent for a moment or two, puzzling through things before looking back at him. "I don't know, you seemed to do fine."

Hank Hall has posed:
    Hank nods along with Dawn's line of thinking, and then suddenly he snaps his fingers and points at her. "OPRAH!" He looks at her and grins. "Donna _totally_ saved Oprah's life, and now _YOU_ get a pizza and _YOU_ get a pizza and _YOU_ get a pizza!" He laughs smugly at his conclusion. "It's a perfect fit!"
    The moment might have passed. It barely made it, and the honk nearly killed it. Hank had almost escaped with the lie. But for Dawn. The loose thread of conversation was totally fine for him. But he knew that Dawn would pick at it forever. Nothing could be loose.
    The turn signal comes on, and Hank crosses over two lanes before turning down a street, some blocks before the tower. He finds a spot - handy fifteen minute parking - and pulls over, setting the car in park. Then he turns to look at Dawn, and the lie is probably already written on his face. "I wasn't fine."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    When the car stops, Dawn unbuckles her seatbelt so that she can better turn in her seat to face him, to let him see he's got her full attention at the moment. "You could have told me, Hank," she says softly. "You don't have to lie to me about something like that." She cracks a small smile. "Not like you're trying to play big tough guy to impress me." She exhales a small sigh, but she still smiles.
    "It was kind of a buzzing in my head, like I was forgetting something and I couldn't shake it. Jet lag makes sense, but... you have a very good point." Dawn pauses, looking at him seriously. "Are you okay now?"

Hank Hall has posed:
    There is a long, deep sigh from Hank. "I didn't want you to worry," he says. "Or even worse, make you feel like you had to come back, or..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It is not about impressing you, Dawn, it's about making you feel like you had to be responsible for me in some way." He takes a deep breath, his face lingering in a frown despite her smile.
    He nods as she speaks of the buzz. "For me, it was more...the opposite." He snickers. "As would be expected, of course. A clarity, a focus, on...things I should not have focused on." He looks into her eyes, and slowly, he nods. "The moment I saw you coming towards the car, I felt it all melt away as if it were never there."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "Well, that's too bad because I worried anyway, even if I didn't know if something was wrong or not," Dawn says, her smile fading only slightly, just enough to make her face look more serious. "There's a difference between being responsible for someone and helping them. I don't feel responsible for you, but you're..." She stops, trying to find words that don't quite form themselves adequately in her head.
    "You were so worried over me that you didn't worry over yourself, and I wasn't here to worry over you for you." She tilts her head to the side. "What if you knew that I'd feel like you did while I was in London? Would you feel responsible?"

Hank Hall has posed:
    Breathing. Listening. Hank listens to Dawn, and he can do nothing other than nod. And look down, as her words penetrate his skull. Thick as it is. "You're right." He does not have the ability to argue. Not with her. Anyone else, he'd scream until they were both blue in the face, insisting that the sky was green. Not Dawn.
    He looks up, and takes another deep breath. Not that he needs to force himself to be calm around her. Ironically, the measures that do not work when she is not around are not needed when she is around. "I wasn't fine, Dawn." He is repeating himself. But somehow, this iteration of the statement sounds different leaving his mouth. There is pain behind it this time. Less matter of fact. More confessional. "I was far enough from fine that I wasn't sure I'd get out of it. I should have called you, I should have told you, but..." He closes his eyes, and forces himself to take a breath. "It's not fair to you. To have this burden. To have _me_ as a burden."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    There's a very firm shake of her head. "If I thought of you as a burden, don't you think I'd be honest and tell you as much?" Dawn watches him carefully. "I know this can't be easy for you, the whole Hawk and Dove thing with *me*, but I want to be here for you. We're partners in some way and neither of us gets to do the heavy lifting for the other, okay?"
    She reaches to put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry that you weren't fine. We'll figure out a way to manage it better if it happens again. We can practice. But you aren't a burden, Hank, no more than dealing with my neurotic sense of organization is a burden to you." She pauses again. "I know you said you were okay once I got in the car but... are you *really* okay? Is there anything else I can do?"

Hank Hall has posed:
    "I mean, yes, _maybe_, but..." Hank shakes his head. "You would. I know you would. I guess I just..." He watches her, and then a smile comes across his face. "The strange thing, Dawn, honestly - somehow, it _is_ easy for me. It is, it's just, you are here, and it works, and I don't know why, and maybe the fact that it _is_ so easy is part of what bothers me, because you shouldn't _have_ to be stuck with me." It comes out, and then he stops, as if suddenly putting it out there gives him a moment to breathe. The guilt he feels for her situation. That is the weight pressing on him.
    He looks at her, and he manages to keep his composure, but it is clear that it is just barely. He nods to her first question, shakes his head to her second, but says nothing. Not trusting his voice to not betray him. Not in this moment. Even if she already sees through him.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "Did it ever occur to you that I'm choosing to be here?" Dawn drops her hand back to her lap, then she shakes her head. "I asked you to pick me up from the airport. I wanted to see you, check in on you. I don't feel obligated or responsible, I feel genuinely at ease." She frowns for a moment, though she remains watching him, staying focused on him.
    "Take a deep breath, Hank. You be honest with me and I'll be honest with you and we'll take this one step at a time and figure this out. Both of us, together."

Hank Hall has posed:
    Hank takes a deep breath. As much because Dawn tells him to as he himself realizes it is the right thing to do. Maybe more of the former. "Ok," he says finally, meeting her gaze. He nods, and says it again. "Ok. I promise." He sighs. "I'm sorry, I just..." He laughs ruefully. "It is hard for me to think that you want to be here as much as I want you to be here, because it is..." He stops himself. Probably not fast enough. "You know what I mean."
    He takes another deep breath. "Have you always known the right things to say to people, or was that another gift from our benefactors?" A slight laugh after that.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "I know what you mean," Dawn says in reply, cracking another smile as he looks at him. "Saying the right things to people comes from being calm, rational, and really knowing the person I'm talking to even if we haven't really known each other that long. I'm not sure how to phrase it. Instincts, maybe." She then suddenly grins.
    "Besides, if I didn't know the right things to say to people I feel like I wouldn't be keeping the peace and I'd probably be a pretty terrible Dove."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "Which is probably why I know the exact _wrong_ things to say to people, to provoke, anger, and get them to unleash their inner feelings." Hank grins. "I mean, I am sure we'll find some times that that is useful, right?" He grins back at her. "Nah. We'll just keep letting you do the talking. It helps that you are prettier than I am, too."
    He laughs at the last part, and shakes his head. "You're an amazing Dove, Dawn. Really, and truly. And I know from Doves, right?" He takes a deep breath. "I know you said before, that it's hard, being Hawk to your Dove. But I mean it when I say...it's really not." He tilts his head. "I can't tell you for certain that it isn't the magic talking, but you make me feel more at ease than anyone else I have ever known."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "You do the talking with your fists when it's needed. Sometimes, unfortunately, that does end up being needed... as much as I'd like to say I can talk someone down from any situation," Dawn says, letting out a chuckle. "You may boast of my amazing organizational skills but people, on the other hand, are complicated. Words become complicated."
    She laughs to cover up the bit of fluster from the compliment. "I like to think we can make up our own minds, magic or not. Just because we're Hawk and Dove doesn't mean we aren't also Hank and Dawn. We're still us and there's no one I'd rather have to pick me up from the airport." She laughs again. "That sounds stupid, doesn't it? I was trying to be sweet."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "People are a lot less complicated when they are unconscious," admits Hank, with a bit of a laugh. "So I cannot really argue with you there. Sometimes the fists are faster, what can I say." He shakes his head slowly. "And definitely more fun, right?"
    She laughs at the compliment. He just starts to turn a bit flushed. "Uh." Articulate as always, Hank. "It doesn't sound stupid, Dawn. It just..." He takes another deep breath. Breathe. And he nods. "It was very sweet. I just..." He looks at her for a long moment. "I am glad that you are you. Dawn. Dove. Both sides."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "Thanks, even if I'm the communicator, I still get a bit tongue tied with my analogies sometimes," Dawn smiles sheepishly as she glances back over him. "Thank you. I'm glad I get to see you as both Hank and Hawk. We were still Dawn and Hank before all the magic, after all. It just seems, maybe, that we don't quite have a full handle on the magic letting us be apart for too long. It's better to have figured that out now instead of than at a more dangerous juncture in the future."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "Well, I'd happily untie your tongue with my fists if..." Then Hank just stops. "Yeah, my analogies ain't so great either." He laughs heartily at that as the tension clearly continues to fade from his form. "And you're right, of course, you're always right, I just..." He shrugged. "Honestly, I kept thinking that I didn't want you to be around me because you felt that you had to, for me. Knowing that it is your choice as well, that makes me feel less..." He pauses, searching for the word. He fails. "You know what I mean."
    And he truly believes that she does.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "I'm not always right and I'll get an ego if you keep saying that," Dawn teases, then catches his gaze. "I want you to remember this right now, Hank Hall. I'm here because I want to be. Hawk didn't pick me up from the airport, you did because you wanted to. You didn't have to either. I'm glad you did, though." She nods slowly.
    "And yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

Hank Hall has posed:
    Hank looks far less willing to accept that Dawn isn't always right, and it is plain on his face. But he relents on that argument - for now. He nods, slowly. "I will remember this moment, Dawn Granger. I promise." He smiles. "I'm glad I picked you up, too."
    He looks at her for a long moment. Deliberating. Finally, he says, "We should get you home," he murmurs.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "Mhm," Dawn says, an almost non-reply to his statement of getting her home. She seems, for a second, to have been about to say something else. "Right," she says at last and then smiles in his direction. "I probably need a shower from being crammed in that sardine can for eight hours." She grins at her own joke, watching to see if he does too.

Hank Hall has posed:
    Hank will certainly remember the moment. One that was, maybe one that almost was. "I am sure whoever was crammed in next to you had nothing to complain about, but if you'd feel more comfortable, you can grab a hot shower and I'll get a nice meal thrown together, and then we can relax and you can tell me all of your boring stories about museums until I fall asleep. Deal?" Oh yes, he matched her grin at the joke.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "That sounds absolutely lovely." Dawn's grin doesn't fade, chuckling lightly. "Even if you did insult the many wonderful museums London has to offer. Otherwise I suppose I can't help it if my voice is soothing." That may be the nail on the head in that particular situation. "Alright. Shower, food, me being boring. Sounds like a plan."

Hank Hall has posed:
    "I think I could listen to you read the phone book to me and it would be soothing, Dawn." Hank grins at that. "But let's not try that, because I'm liable to fall asleep before we get past the Andersons." He shifts back a bit and turns his attention back to the car, nodding as he prepares to pull out. Waiting, of course, for Dawn to put on her seat belt and perform her full safety check first. "Sounds like a _delightful_ plan," he clarifies.

Dawn Granger has posed:
    Dawn pauses in said safety check, noticing that he remembered the nuances of her orderliness. She buckles her seatbelt, then smiles fondly in his direction. "I'll do my best not to do anything alphabetically, then," she says, then glances off at the street. "... I don't think I'd even know where to find a phonebook if I needed one."

Hank Hall has posed:
    At that, Hank snickers. "Like you could do anything _other_ than alphabetically..." The car lurches forward into motion. Hank makes it a block before he turns to look back at Dawn, a sincere smile on his face. "Thank you, Dawn." A pause. "I can't tell you how good it feels to have you back."

Dawn Granger has posed:
    "You're right, I think I'd have to grit my teeth to do it out of order and then start over if I did it wrong," Dawn agrees with a laugh, then looks back over at him. "Cause of the magic or because you missed me?" She teases, though it doesn't like she expects him to answer the question either way.

Hank Hall has posed:
    Laughing, Hank nods in agreement. "You'd never make it all of the way through. We'd be stuck there forever." His eyes on the traffic light, not wanting to get honked again, he starts to turn as the light shifts to green.
    Dawn will have to settle for an enigmatic smile as her only answer to that question.