18502/July 4th at Le Bain

July 4th at Le Bain
Date of Scene:	04 July 2024
Location:	Le Bain, Overlooking the Hudson River, New York City
Synopsis:	Carol Ferris books Le Bain, a prestigious rooftop club, and hosts an all-night Macy's 4th of July Fireworks party with many prominent friends and colleagues in attendance! During the grand finale, however, an explosion visible down river breaks the party up as many clamor to figure out what happened.
Cast of Characters:	Carol Ferris, Rhona Lauren, Violet Paige, Mark Grayson, Danny Rand, Cir-El, Hal Jordan, Sunny Harlow, Pepper Potts, April O'Neil

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Carol Ferris has posed:
The rooftop bar Le Bain, perched atop The Standard in Manhattan, hums with the electric anticipation of the evening. Carol Ferris, the savvy CEO of Ferris Aircraft, has booked the entire space for a 4th of July celebration that promises to be unforgettable. It's just an hour before the fireworks are set to ignite the sky over the Hudson River, and the party is already in full swing.

The expansive rooftop, with its lush artificial turf and sweeping views of the Manhattan skyline, is alive with vibrant energy. The sun has just dipped below the horizon, casting a dusky glow that mingles with the twinkling city lights. A celebrity DJ, known for his infectious beats, commands the booth, sending pulsating rhythms across the crowd. The bass thumps like a heartbeat, making the very air vibrate with excitement.

Guests, dressed in their finest cocktail attire, mill about, sipping on expertly crafted cocktails that shimmer in the low light. Waitstaff in crisp uniforms weave through the throng, balancing trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Laughter and animated conversation rise above the music, a symphony of human connection against the backdrop of the impending fireworks.

Carol Ferris moves through the crowd with effortless grace, her midnight blue dress sparkling under the ambient lights. This night is for everyone in attendance -- a chance to relax, a chance to unwind, a chance to be among friends and share laughter and love. But this is also _her_ night -- a celebration not just of Independence Day, but of the resilience and success of Ferris Aircraft.

It's taken a lot over the years for Carol to step up as CEO, to keep the company solvent, to defend her territory against would-be corporate take-overs, greedy politicians, and deceitful executives. There was so much more to her life than a mere corporate battlefield. There was a whole galaxy of love to defend, and in her secret identity as Star Sapphire, the Champion and de facto leader of the Star Sapphire Corps, she was responsible for more than most would ever know.

The hot tub, a signature feature of Le Bain, bubbles invitingly in one corner of the rooftop. A few adventurous souls have already shed their formalwear in favor of swimsuits, their laughter mingling with the steam rising into the cooling night air. The contrast between the chic lounge atmosphere and the playful splashes from the hot tub adds a unique charm to the event.

Overhead, strings of fairy lights crisscross, casting a warm, enchanting glow over the gathering. The bar itself, a sleek, modern structure, serves as the epicenter of the party. Bartenders move with practiced efficiency, shaking and stirring drinks that seem almost too beautiful to consume. The smell of freshly made crepes wafts through the air, mingling with the scents of perfumes and colognes.

As the clock ticks closer to the fireworks display, the energy in Le Bain builds. Conversations grow louder, the music intensifies, and more guests make their way to the edge of the rooftop, eager to secure the best viewing spots.

Carol pauses for a moment, back from the rest, taking in the scene with a sense of satisfaction. This is one of the things she loves most in life -- bringing people together, creating moments of joy and connection.

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Rhona Lauren, a 20 year old intern at Channel Six News in Manhattan, was assigned to this party, with press credentials hanging from a lanyard around her neck. Dressed in a sleeveless dark red top, a black belt around her waist, and a asymmetrical black skirt, that hangs down to her knees, drifting a little further down on the right than it does on the left. On black heeled shoes, the young woman strolls the party, letting her hazel hued eyes roam over faces. She feels a bit out of her element, though the nature of this party reminds her of the many such socialite soirees that her parents would host back in London.

When offered a glass of champagne, the young woman shook her head, and spoke in a British flavored voice to the server, stating that she wasn't old enough for such beverages, which got a compliment from him for not accepting it.

Moving along, Rhona ventured through the crowds, finding a place to observe the city's skyline, with her tied-back hair having a few loose strands that swept around the sides of her face in the warm July winds.

She glanced down at her phone, checking the time, before looking up again. "Another celebration for defeating my people," she said to herself quietly. "I approve, all the same."

Violet Paige has posed:
Violet Paige. What to say about her.... Gosh. Well we can't put any of those in print. (In)Famous as a Gotham party girl and socialite with a tragic past and a lot of money. Heiress of the Paige Publishing fortune the Gotham press has a /very/ love/hate relationship with her. They love following her around. And hate anything she says or does.

Drink, drugs, scandal. You name it she's done it. Crashed a super car while drunk? Check. In and out of rehab? Check. And tonight? Tonight she is taking a total stranger on a blind date to a New York party.

Why? Probably something to do with that whole drink and drugs thing.

She's wearing a vintage black party dress that goes down past her knee, modest for someone with her reputation, and shades. Which are totally /not/ for hiding just how dilated her pupils are. They are for fashion. No, really. Fashion.

Her attention is firmly focused on her phone. Although as if by magic her hand seems to unerringly pluck a flute of something expensive and alcoholic from a passing waiter. Years of practise honing the motion. It doesn't matter how wild she parties. She /always/ knows where free drinks are.

Mark Grayson has posed:
When you're on the Mark Grayson budget, you can afford okay things, but not the finest things. Thankfully, he knows about rental places, and went out of his way to dress for the occassion. A slate blue jacket is fitted over a silver buttoned up top. A silver waist belt is worn over slate blue slacks, leading down to... white tennis shoes. Maybe he just forgot to rent the shoes?

As he looks around the crowd, he glances over to Sunny. "I mean..." he says, carrying on a conversation in a soto voice from earlier. "...if the fireworks don't look all that great from down here, we can go up and get a better view?" he suggests to her quietly.

As he passes by a tray, he grabs one flute of sparkling juice for himself, since he's still a month out from being legal - while his date can happily get her drink of choice.

Danny Rand has posed:
Danny Rand, the young chairperson and majority stockholder of the Rand Corporation, one of the larger multinational corporations, with products in almost every home across the globe, was a celebrity twice over. Once for being a man who came back from the dead, as he and his parents had been presumed dead years ago, and a second time for eventually inheriting a controlling interest in the Rand Corporation.

He kept mostly private, having a reputation as a good man, bordering on naive, as he was extremely optimistic, seeing the best in people. Some thought he was a bit of a hippie though with his zen like attitude. He had arrived wearing a black tuxedo, it was New Year's Eve, along with a companion in a sparkling red dress, almost like the one from the nightclub scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit, just one sized for a regular human being. Though as they entered the party, they would mingle and be separated.

His blond beard had been cut, groomed for the occasion, but was still there. His floppy blond hair probably had been tied back at some point, but in the helicopter ride, or somewhere else on the journey, it had returned to its messy state. Thankfully, it looked good on the twenty-something with those piercing blue eyes.

Cir-El has posed:
Cir-El is here for a blind date, getting the invite shared from someone she matched with on a social app. It was hard to get a read on her, but Cir-El just wanted to meet new people, expand her social horizons. Try to just...be and not think all the time about who she was and where she came from and all the complicated conflicts it made inside her.

Just a chance to be with someone and have fun. She follows an app on her phone, slowly passing by others. She isn't super obviously super in any way - sports bra under a draping tank top, cut out the sides, tie-dyed with a picture of Dolly Parton on the front. She has jeans and boots, but her hair is short and black and slicked back a bit, shaved on the sides. She wears sunglasses and black lipstick as she peeks around - a little bit country, a little bit rock and roll.

Then she spots Violet, "YOU! You're the one! Hello to you!" she says, literally just pointing a finger.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Independence Day no doubt means different things to different people. Certainly it is celebrated in a myriad of different ways.

For Hal Jordan that usually means baseball games and backyard barbeques more so then fancy viewing parties atop Manhattten high rises. But as a general rule he is willing to try almost anything once.

Publically a test pilot for Ferris Aircraft, though a somewhat notoriously unreliable one -- just how does he manage to stay employed when he has a tendancy to disappear for weeks at a time with nary a word --Hal might just be happy to be here at all tonight instead of half a world, or a few dozen star systems away.

Because for the most part, Hal's real job is as a 'space cop', for the intergalactic Green Lantern Corps -- a fact not known by many admittedly -- though one of those would just so happen to be his employer and host of tonight's particular event.

Maybe that's how he keeps his job.

Either way, Hal has indeed shown up tonight. And much more remarkably he has done so with his customary bomber jacket and jeans look, a not inconsderable sacrifice and one that he certainly wouldn't make for many. And one that might have taken more then his fair share of that formidable Will to actually make in the end.

But he's here, in that classix tux look, giving only one irritable tug of that tight collar that feels like it is slowly suffocating him, dropping his hand diligently back to his side as the elevator *tings* amd tje doors slide open to give him a glance at the club beyond.

It might not exactly be his particular scene, but even he would have to admit that it is fairly impressive and even a brief glance towards the sweeping views suggests that they should have a pretty good view of the forthcoming show.

For all the wonders he might have seen, in the distant corners of the world or the galaxy itself, it's still hard to beat an old fashion fireworks display. Childhood nostalgia perhaps.

Circulating throughout the room, he does finally lay eyes on the evening's host, sliding his ay through the crowd in her direction. "You clean up pretty good Ferris," Hal says, the corners of his mouth threatening to twitch upwards. "Nice dress. Though I would have guesses that violet was more your color."

Sunny Harlow has posed:
Technically speaking in some ways, Sunny Harlow was a migrant success story, what with that whole literal alien thing. Despite the fact that the blonde heroine looked about as 'all-american' as one could be (she was even a varsity cheerleader!) the viltrumite girl had only found her adoptive home by chance. That didn't mean she wasn't going to celebrate it.

Wrapped in a blue evening dress cut to bare her back, she'd even gone for heels as they move through the crowd, a little giggle given.

"I'd call the idea silly...if I definately hadn't done that before..."

Pepper Potts has posed:
See and be seen? Over the years, it really doesn't much matter anymore for the likes of the upper echelon of Stark Industries. Tony Stark is a heck of a front-man, and with the business world's frenzy just only starting to die down with the rise of Ms Virginia "Pepper" Potts into the CEO position, again, she doesn't have to do //anything// to be 'seen' other than just 'be there'. With the news conferences regarding a new orbital space station that is going to be built by Stark Industries and Cranston Multinational Shipping, it's created a new buzz around the woman.

Wearing an 'evening casual' midi-dress in resplendent reds and blues, the 'shimmering in places' holds her figure well. Strawberry blonde hair is worn down in wide ringlets, dangling earrings hanging from her ear provide counterpoints to the outfit.

What may be a little strange is that she isn't on the arm of said 'Tony Stark'...

While most of those gathered don't really bat an eye at her appearance, thanks to most being jaded New Yorkers, there are some that do take notice at her entrance. A smile is given to one, two, each that she passes, and Pepper graciously accepts a wandering flute of champagne, though it is used more as a prop than a chance to start the evening with a good dose of 'champagne high'. A stop here and there has her chatting quietly before moving through the crowd to find 'she who organized the party'.

Mark Grayson has posed:
"There's so many big names here..." Mark is noting as he walks with Sunny, his hand settled on the bare part of her back so they maintain contact while manuvering the floor. Having been born and raised in Baltimore, he is very much American, despite the half-Viltrumite side of him. "That's Carol Ferris of Ferris Air, she's got several.. I mean several.. successful contracts. And that's Danny Rand. Not much older than us. Already a billionaire, at least?" Mark isn't entirely sure.

Though as he notices the redhead, he ohs. "That's Pepper Potts. She's in charge of Stark Industries, and pretty amazing at everything from what I heard." he laughs a little. "I think we might be a little out of our league, Sunny."

Violet Paige has posed:
Violet is somehow taller than Mia. Making it that much more difficult to hide amongst the crowd when she greets her with YOU. And she also somehow manages not to choke on her drink at the sight of a Dolly Parton top. This is a party girl skill that is often underrated. Both because it avoids wasting alcohol /and/ because sometimes it's best not to let someone know they've made a huge fashion faux pau.

Her drink vanishes. The work of a moment. Replaced with another. She's going to need it!

"Hello to you too," she replies. Holding her phone up to take a selfie with Mia. "To commemorate the occasion."

Also to prove to her social circle she really did go through with this misadventure.

She offers Mia her arm. Importantly /not the arm with the drink/. "Shall we mingle?"

Carol Ferris has posed:
So many faces.

Some Carol recognizes. Some she doesn't. All here to gather for company, the revelry, and the surely spectacular firework display display that was ticking closer with every flute of champagne collected from a passing tray, every drink order placed, every greeting, every smile...

One face she recognizes for certain, though. One face that makes that smile brighter than all the fireworks Macy's could ever afford. She watched his approach with eager anticipation, yet she took not one step closer to meet him.

...Even if it did seem to take some amount of effort not to move closer once she was within the scent of his cologne.

"Thank you. I thought about it, but it seemed a little... on the nose," Carol muses as Hal steps up to her, blue eyes warm. She makes a little gesture, then, up and down. "And you! There was a pool on whether or not you'd actually wear a tux, tonight. I'm out a lot of money, thanks to you." A grin quirks her lips. "Again." A shrug. A little roll of her eyes. "Worth every penny."

A statement perks her interest, though, and she finally does reach out to touch Hal's arm, nodding him over toward Rhona. "We should mingle."

It's not a huge space, though it is nicely divided between outside -- for easier conversation -- and inside, for a more club-like atmosphere.

In just a moment, they're at Rhona, a warm smile on her lips.

"If it helps, I tend to think of it more like a child leaving the nest... a celebration of maturing to form a new, lasting partnership. Rather than a defeat." There's a pause and a little shrug of her shoulders. "Though, I suppose your way is technically correct."

There's humor in her smile as she offers a hand.

"I'm Carol Ferris. And this is Hal Jordan."

Sunny Harlow has posed:
"Sorry I haven't struck it big as some hot-shot designer...I mean, it's not like -most- superheroes are billionaires who are going to pay for their outfits, right?" Sunny teases Mark lightly, nudging him with her shoulder. If only she knew, but then the only billionaire hero she knew built his own suit, and she was more the 'Mega-materials' worker with Art than gadgets than heavy artillery!

"Still, I think we do alright," she winks at her boyfriend as they move through, her arm hooked with his and her other hand on his own. "I mean, money isn't everything, right?"

Cir-El has posed:
Mia might be trying to fit in as human on sight, but that didn't mean she wouldn't use her powers to cheat when she could. No way Violet would've gotten away from her, no way and no how.

She puts up two fingers in the peace symbol for the selfie and soon finds herself arm in arm with Violet, the two of them walking together. So strange, since they just met, but Cir-El just goes along with it. She's found that attitude gets her pretty far. What is it they say in her improv class? Yes and?

"Mingling, yes. Hello. Hello. Hello," she says to each person they pass, most of them just continuing to walk by. "I don't think it's working."

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Residing by the balcony railing, Rhona's eyes drop down to her phone, where she has a few texts from her mentor at the Eyewitness News station. Her thumbs rapidly send a quick response, detailing the few small interactions she's had at the party thus far, already hitting up a few of the names that her boss had asked her to. With a glance back to the party, Rhona slipped her phone back in to the small black bag she had strapped around her body, hanging at her right hip.

Raising a hand to swipe a few of the loose strands of hair behind an ear, the Brit moved back in to the throngs of party goers, while only steps back in, she was intercepted by the same server from before, who now offers her a bottle of water.

A bit of a laugh, melodic and soft, is given to the man, along with a gentle 'Thank you' for the gesture of finding her a beverage she could legally consume. The server smiled back, and moved on, leaving the young woman to twist the water cap off, take a testing sip, and proceed onward to find herself another individual she might pester with a few questions. Afterall, she is sporting that media badge around her neck.

When Ms. Feriss and Mr. Jordan approach her, Rhona is quick to come to a stop, a split second of her hazel eyes growing in size, before evening out again. "Oh, Miss Ferris," rhona said in her youthful voice, flavored in that London style. "And Mister Jordan. It's a pleasure to meet you." She adjusted her water bottle from her right hand, to her left, then offered it to either in-turn. "I'm really enjoying the party tonight. Though I feel, a bit... out of my place." She showed a quick smile for them both, before it faded fast. "I told myself I'd promise not to overly bother your guests, as well. My employer was simply hoping for a few, bits and pieces, he could string together in to a story."

Her boss? J. Jonah Jameson, and those who know him well, would know he owns Eyewitness News, or C6 as it is known locally. The television wing of his media empire.

Mark Grayson has posed:
"I think we do alright." Mark admits, and then rolls his eyes at Sunny's teasing. "You're just needing your big break to go from Art's apprentince to Sunny Harlow, super-heroic fashion designer." he says with a small chuckle of amusement as he finishes his drink, placing the empty on a passing tray. "And I have all the faith in the world in your skills, Sunny." he points out with with a squeeze of her hand.

"If I made you feel any different, I apologize for it."

Pepper Potts has posed:
Being out and about is obviously what Pepper's intention is. Bodyguards are not present, at least not obviously so. Doesn't Stark Tower have a good enough view over the river for the fireworks? Probably not; the Empire State Building is in the way, pesky thing, with itself all lit up in red, white and blues for the holiday.

Pepper is savvy enough to know most here, at least by name and certainly by reputation. Who is who, and who belongs to which corporation is one of her strong suits. Violet Paige, check. Danny Rand.. hmm. There is something of a distracted look on her face, however, and quickly covered up perhaps by a sip of the champagne.

Crossing the room, Pepper smiles, nods before sidling up to the hostess of the evening, Carol Ferris, and.. hmm. "Ms Ferris," Pepper begins, "thank you for doing this. Love the idea, and it's a perfect vantage for the fireworks." Hal Jordan isn't ignored, however, and because she is dateless, and there is none to 'stand in', as it were, for old school introductions, Pepper does it on her own, and her expression has that touch of genuine warmth. "I don't think we've met. Pepper Potts."

April O'Neil has posed:
The Fourth Estate has been here the entire time, hiding out, snapping the occasional picture of the glitterati on display. As one does at a party like this. April flits from vantage point to vantage point, trying to stay as far out of the way as possible. It's only when she spots her assistant Rhona a few feet away that she somewhat gives up the game and gives the younger woman a wave. And then, it's back to 'work,' as she moves to snag a drink from a passing waiter. Champagne appears to be what she's grabbed, and she takes a sip as she surveys the scene more fully.

Sunny Harlow has posed:
"Never," Sunny offers to Mark's comment, a squeeze returned with a little wink before she turns her gaze up to 'Mia' and Violet passing by and attempting mingling only to giggle softly. "On the plus side? Well, we're not the only person who's feeling a little out of place, right?"

The blonde woman tilts her head to the side, casting her gaze upwards towards the sky. "Still, the fireworks should be something to see...."

Hal Jordan has posed:
For those interested in people watching there is certainly no shortage of people to take in, and the wide variety of outfits certainly might merit some attention being paid to one or another.

And while all of that might have some interest to Hal, really he is here for one reason and one reason only.

Well, maybe two. In at least some respects this is a Ferris Aircraft event, as well as Carol's personal one, and it doesn't exactly hurt to show up for company functions when one has the sometimes spotty reputation that this particular test pilot does. Certainly Carol's father was always rather quick to forgive, perhaps because of the long ties between their families.

Not all of his current co-workers are necessarily quite so forgiving.

"You might have a point," he conceeds, no longer bothering trying to suppress the grin the blooms on his features, falling in by Carol's side, hand instinctively starting to reach for her own before dropping back to his side.

There are probably already more then a few stories circulating around the workplace about them without adding a whole lot more fuel to the fire. And she kinda runs the place now.

"This old thing?" he adds, arching a brow her way. "I do like to take people offguard now and then. But trust me, given the chance to do it all over again, I would definitely have shown up in my bomber jacket and jeans.," he promises.

"Bet on my next time. You'll win your money back in the pool," he assures her.

Then they are moving through the crowd and Hal nods to some of the familiar faces -- some of whom even nod back in a somewhat friendly fashion -- before stopping beside the evening's hostess by Rhona.

"Pleasure to meet you too," Hal offers back with that easy smile of his. "Chances are, with this crowd? You'll pick up at least something of interest."

Then as Pepper approaches as well, he shifts, turning his gaze her way and dipping his head. He's not necessarily big on keeping tabs on who's hot and who's not in society, but it is pretty impossible not to recognize the CEO of Stark Industries. "A pleasure Ms. Potts. Hal Jordan," he says, offering his own introduction.

Violet Paige has posed:
While her date deals with the mingling Violet is dealing with. Uh. Well as little as possible really. That's the whole point of being a party girl socialite. You don't /do/ things. It's more about experiencing them.

Experiencing this drink. And that drink. It's a good thing no-one has X-ray vision and can see through her sunglasses. Or else they'd see far too much pupil. Whatever she's taken it's something all right. The kind of buzz that lasts for days. Or feels like it anyway.

"So what do you..." she waves her glass holding hand at Mia. "You know. Do."

The names might escape her in this state. But she can read the flow of the party. There's Carol and Hal, King and Queen of the party. April and Rhona have a here for work vibe. Pepper is. Well she's Pepper Potts. She's not quite high enough to miss that.

Her gaze slides over Mark and Sunny. They sort of feel like tourists. How nice they're having a day out! (Although honestly at least they didn't wear a Dolly Parton top.)

Violet is after all. Utterly /awful/.

Cir-El has posed:
Cir-El can discern in fairly short order that Violet is getting fairly intoxicated. She doesn't judge - substance abuse usually stems from trauma and a difficulty in processing complex feelings. A numbing practice. Cir-El only had a very passing acquaintance with physical pain, but what she had felt was enough to give her great sympathy for someone in need of such things.

She offers a hand of support and helps to guide Violet along through the crowd as she grows more and more incoherent, "Yes, that makes total sense. I agree. How dare they," she says, saying whatever it takes to assuage the rich girl as she tries to guide her at least to a chair to sit down.

Drugs and booze didn't do anything for Cir-El. On nights like these, she felt a little sad about that. Maybe she was missing something. So many humans did it.

Danny Rand has posed:
Not really knowing anyone, since the plus one in red had disappeared into the crowd, Danny Rand did his best, weaving through the crowd, taking an offered drink from a server, and made small talk as he passed through. This was more about being seen, posing for any cameras, but he didn't do well in large groups. It was even worse when he didn't know anyone. He did undo his jacket button, and eyeing a waste bin, he gave serious thought to removing his cummerbund and throwing it in there. But if he was going to go that far, why not undo the bow tie, take off the jacket, and make it complete? Checking the time, as he wondered how long it would be before the fireworks.

Mark Grayson has posed:
Following Sunny's gaze over to Mia and Violet, Mark gets a curious look. "Someone you know?" he asks the girl on his arm as the pair pause for a moment. They are totally tourists at this party. Trying their best to mingle, but they are a single-A team in a Major League park - so many strikeouts. When Violet glances over at them, he grins, before turning to grab another refreshingly non-alcoholic drink.

Though as Sunny starts talking about the view again, he chuckles softly, a nudge of his hip to hers. "I get the feeling thoigh that you're wanting a change of venue." he teases her softly, as Danny Rand passes by the pair on his small talk tour and he chuckles. "You look about as comfortable as I would in a cumberbund, Mister Rand."

Carol Ferris has posed:
When Hal's hand flinches towards her own, her fingers move -- just a little -- on pure instinct. It's so... vaguely uncomfortable, even if Carol doesn't want it to be. When they're together, they're _so_ good, but when they're apart...

... when they're apart it feels like there are galaxies between them.

Even when they're standing face to face.

She'd slipped her wrist into the cook of Hal's elbow for the trip over to Rhona, because even if holding hands might be a little much, surely having her best pilot 'escort' her wasn't too untoward for an evening of fireworks?

"Well, Ms. Lauren, the last thing we'd want is for you to feel out of place. You're just as welcome here as anyone else. Help yourself to some snacks. Snap some pictures if you like, and don't be afraid to mingle. Take a dip in the hot tub, if that speaks to you. The fireworks are right around the corner."

Ever the hostess, Carol still wears that warm, friendly smile. And even though Rhona hadn't introduced herself, Carol had either been sharp enough to catch the name on that press badge or -- just as likely -- had been told to expect her in advance.

It's Pepper that gets her attention next, though, with a smile that reaches all the way up to her eyes. "Ms. Potts, please.. just Carol," she laughs. It's a familiar sound that remains just on the edge of professionalism -- a respect maintained, perhaps, for the other woman's climb to CEO of one of the foremost companies in the world.

"Thank you for coming. I keep meaning to reach out to you directly and..." With a deep breath and a vaguely frazzled smile, she lets it out in a huff. "Well, there's always something, isn't there? Congratulations, _in person_, on being named CEO. It's very well deserved."

Hal's introduction earns him another glance, another smile. "Hal is the best pilot the company has. He's the very reason some of our defense contracts are so successful once they're in the put into production."

Of course, it's hard to hide the glint in her eye. It's not _just_ pride in an employee.

After a moment, though, she's gesturing back to Rhona, because they're still standing right there and it would be rude to simply ignore her. "This is Rhona Lauren. She works for Eyewitness News, here to cover the event."

There's a little twinkle of playful mirth in her eyes.

"I'm sure she'd love to hear something quotable about that new orbital station I've been hearing so much about."

Sunny Harlow has posed:
"Nope," Sunny muses lightly before pausing lightly. "Just cute couples looking akward...much like us."

Of course, she -had- met the half-krpytonian once, or rather 'Belle' has, but she doesn't quite seem to have the recognition. His comment of venue changes? She snerks lightly, shaking her head. "I'm fine. It's nice here...fancy as heck, but..."

She trails off, catching Mark's comment to Danny Rand with a little giggle.

Rhona Lauren has posed:
Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, Rhona catches her mentor and 'other boss', April O'Neil... indulging in a champagne. Thinking back to their pre-setup for this party event, Rhona rememberd April giving her the marching orders of doing the heavy lifting tonight, while she got her 'drink on' at the bar. It had gotten a laugh out of the young Brit, but now she saw it for what it was. The Truth! She kept a smirk under control, as best as she could.

Her brown eyes shot back to Carol, and Hal, as Pepper approached. She heard Carol speak her name, and it suddenly reminded the 'greenie' that she'd forgotten to return introductions, but her badge sure enough had her name upon it, along with a photo of her looking like a deer in the headlights-- taken earlier this evening.

Carol's kind words, and Hal's as well, garnered a pair of quick nods from the young woman. "Perhaps I'll indulge in the hot tub, or pool in a bit. Though, right now, I just hope to get enough interesting quotes to avoid being yelled at by a man fighting high blood pressure, and a litany of other untreated conditions."

She's openly grinning now, as she bobs her head softly once. "Thank you," Rhona says to Carol as she regards Pepper now.

"Miss Potts, it really is an honor. I've been using a Stark phone since before I could walk." She even quickdraws her phone from her leather clutch to prove it, giving the device a little wiggle, along with a sweet smile as it is slipped away again.

"I'd love to know your thoughts on the Stark and Cranston joint space endeavor... Has the station been given a proper name yet? Something befitting such a historic endeavor? And will it be connected to the Lunar Colony transit of colonists, at all?" The 20 year old intern reporter questions the strawberry blonde CEO, her tone friendly and dancing through those words with her accent foreign to this country.

April O'Neil has posed:
April O'Neil slinks around the party, sticking to the edges of it. When Rhona seems to catch on to the silent trade that's taken place, she lifts her glass to the girl, and then finishes it off. What's the point of a Fourth of July party if you can't enjoy yourself after all? She heads off to find another drink.

Violet Paige has posed:
"All this roof space and not a single gargoyle to smoke behind," Violet says with the sigh of a true Gothamite. She doesn't really /need/ Mia to guide her anywhere. Sure she's drinking but it's with the ease of the habitual drinker. The first round of drinks simply an advance guard. With the next round sent to check how they were doing. And a third for moral support. "And they say Gotham is bad."

She shakes her head.

"I was asking what you do," she repeats to Mia. "For fun? For work?"

To be honest though. She doesn't really mind if she's standing or sitting. So long as the flow of drinks keeps up.

And if they don't? Well she can always go powder her nose.

"You know. On a blind date you ask people shit."

Danny Rand has posed:
Danny had an empty glass of something. It used to have orange juice, but he wasn't certain of the other contents. He had been looking for some place to set the glass down, when he heard the comment about how uncomfortable he looked. "It's not that bad, but I definitely get why they call it a monkey suit. Forgive me, I think you have me at something of a disadvantage." He offered a hand, while Sunny softly giggled, "Danny Rand." He'd repeat the gesture with Sunny afterwards.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Mr Jordan, a pleasure." Pepper looks from Hal to Carol, back and forth, nodding, gaining that little bit more of an insight. "Good pilots are worth their weight in gold," she offers up with no little humor. "They offer insight on the ground as well that is priceless." Though it's obvious, at least to her, that Hal is much more than just 'a pilot'.

It's 'Carol' then, with the strawberry blonde echoing, "Pepper. I seem to have lost my 'real' name somewhere along the line," she laughs. It's that fellowship of work; the ladies work hard for what they have and what they maintain. It's not easy, even at the top. There is the perception that it's all 'sun and fun', but the truth of the matter is that it's all board rooms and congressional hearings and FTC filings.. "Thank you. It can be a scary prospect at times, but the company has a good, solid foundation. And, I completely understand. We'll make it happen, unofficial gatherings." Yoga on Wednesday mornings? A run in the park in the evenings?

Rhona's questioning has Pepper's attention, and a brow rises in her direction. Green eyes catch the card announcing her position as a journalist, and she chuckles, the sound light and seemingly casual. "I'm glad you're still using it. Hopefully you've upgraded, though," is quietly teased. "I think it's gone through a few updates since then?"

And there are the questions. It's something she knows Tony's been through, and goes through. Now that she's on 'the other side', it's her turn, right? Pepper smiles and looks around, taking in the air of 'party', "I wouldn't want to overshadow this lovely event that Ms Ferris has set up," Carol, "but like we'd said in our news conference when introducing it all, we are excited to partner with Cranston Multinational, and we both are fully supporting the research and development required for success. When we have more, we'll certainly make sure that you all are apprised." Whew! "No name yet, and.." those green eyes gleam, "We may be able to aid the colonists on the moon and help support that mission."

Hal Jordan has posed:
To be sure, Hal is only too happy to play escort on this particular evening. If for no other reason then it tends to happen far less frequently then they both might prefer.

Such is the case given Carol's responsibilities running Ferris Aircraft *and* everything she has taken on with the Star Sapphires. And in fairness it is not exactly a light workload for being the Green Lantern assigned to one of the thirty-six hundred sectors that make up the known galaxy either. That kinda keeps Hal on his toes too.

He doesn't really count flying prototype aircrafts for Ferris as work or a responsibility. The freedom of flying -- in a cockpit or without -- is a joy, not an obligation.

So he doesn't hesitate to at least take that invitation to slip his arm through hers as they join that small gathering near the edge of the club, maaaaaybe glancing occasionally to the skyline beyond and view of the Hudson River, just checking to make sure that the don't miss the upcoming show.

If he's going to dress in this monkey suit damnit, he is going to get his quota of entertainment as a reward. That's really all their is to it.

"I promise, I did not offer to refund half my salary so that she would talk me up," Hal assures that others with a brief grin, that line of his mouth curving upwards.

In his defense he might be just as good as Carol has suggested.

For all his many other faults, there are two things that Hal excels at; flying planes and being a Green Lantern.

"I will not lie. I have been eyeing that hot tub too," he admits wryly to Rhona. "Any excuse to shed this bowtie," the dark haired pilot says with a rueful shake of his head.

At the mention of the proposed space station in development, Hal's gaze flickers back towards Pepper as well, a glint of interest in his eyes. "I'm looking froward to seeing how it progresses as well. I have a certain interest in space ventures," he admits. Unsurprising in a test pilot. Even less surprising for a Lantern in charge of this region of space.

April O'Neil has posed:
The hot tub? Well...what a time to be without her swimsuit. April frowns a bit as she scopes out the party a little bit more, and then settles her eyes on Rhona doing the investigative work she should probably be out doing. But...drinks. And pretty people to look at! And not interacting when she doesn't have to! It's good to have an intern. She orders herself something strong at the bar, and then pulls out her cellphone. She sends a couple of quick texts, and then finally settles in for some people watching off the clock.

Mark Grayson has posed:
"Sorry, when your face is all over magazines, you're automatically at a disadvantage." Mark offers with a small grin of amusement. "It definetly is a monkey suit type of thing. I can relate. Why I skipped the cumberbund tonight." But then his attention turns to making introductions. Offering his hand to Danny, "My name's Mark Grayson. My father, Nolan, was a popular travelogue writer."

Was. He 'died' back at the start of the year. Though those with government connections deep enough may know that Nolan was in fact Omni-Man and fled the planet after a massive battle at one of space telescopes in Hawai'i.

"And this is my girlfriend, Sunny Harlow. She's an aspiring fashion designer. I'm just a government contract bum."

Sunny Harlow has posed:
Well, Sunny is introduced, so instead she offers a returned shake before giving a bright smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rand." the blonde offers lightly before giving Mark a little 'nudge' at his self-deprecation on his employment before she addressed Danny again. "Given how the drinking at this sort of thing will probably go? I doubt many people will keep things as neat as they turned up with tonight."

Violet Paige has posed:
Despite the lack of gargoyles, and the look of dismay from Mia, Violet still pulls out half a pack of cigarettes. It is after all dark and she /is/ wearing sunglasses.

She's not entirely sure how many miles it is to Gotham though.

It does not take long at all for one of the staff to come over and inform Violet that it is, in fact, not legal to smoke in a New York bar. Even if it's on a roof or terrace. Her blind date seems firmly on the side of law & order. Which further complicates affairs. Alas it's hard getting your blind date to cover for you while you flagrantly break the law. That's like a second or third date move at the earliest.

So instead she does what any good party girl does. Retreat to powder her noise.

A process that might take a while.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Hal may have faults, but there are certainly more than two things he excels at. Brainwashed by the Zamarons, Carol had spent years doing everything in her power to hurt Hal -- physically and emotionally. It was so single-minded, her company had nearly gone bankrupt in the process.

He'd been the one the pull the Star Sapphire gem out of her. He'd been the one to trick it into claiming one of the Zamarons, convincing them to use its power to forge the Rings.

Hal had been given every possible reason to hurt her, to lock her away, to take everything she loved -- including himself -- away from her. Yet, after everything she'd done, he'd chosen to save her. Because of that, she was standing here, hosting this party. She was free of the mind control. She was the Champion of the Star Sapphires. And he was right by her side.

Hal excelled at far more than two things, and that acknowledgement was in every glance Carol stole up at him.

'We'll make it happen, unofficial gatherings.'

Why does Carol look so... relieved? And more than a little pleased. It's lonely at the top, as they say. It's hard to maintain friendships when your friends don't really -- can't really -- understand what you're going through.

And while Hal might really be the only one that could _fully_ understand, having a woman in a similar -- albeit even more prominent -- position seems a bit like finding an oasis in the desert.

Okay... maybe not _that_ dramatic, but there's definite warmth, there.

"I'd like that."

Hal's comment about the hot tub draws a narrow-eyed smirk, however.

"You're not getting out of this that easily," she murmurs teasingly.

But then there's the comments about overshadowing, and she raises her free hand. "No, please. I brought it up," she insists.

And she too listens, because it's one thing to read the news... it's another to hear it from the source. And though there are a _lot_ of unanswered questions left, she nods. Because, like Hal, she had a bit of a vested interest of her own. Even if it wasn't quite the same.

Had it been an hour, already? Just over the balcony, the first few pops can be heard -- low, at first, over the water, and then rockets scream up into the sky, bursting into colorful red, white, and blue.

Far down below on the street, where hundreds of thousands are gathered along the riverfront to watch, the screams and cheers can be heard even over the music played by the DJ.

The explosions, this close, this high up, are absolutely percussive -- felt all the way through one's body and into her chest, like being in a warzone. But the colors fill the sky, erupting into bright, beautiful patterns.

The show has begun.

Rhona Lauren has posed:
The comment of hoping that she upgraded her phone, causes Rhona to laugh softly, a restrained laugh that hints at a history of etiquette training. She is certainly quick to nod her head at the question, "Every time a new product comes out. I am one of 'those people, yes." She fires back, before her facial features fall to a more serious expression, calmly listening to the highly respected businesswoman speaking, a literal idol to a college student like Rhona; but she's hiding her 'omg eyes' as best she can.

She does show another reserved smile, at the response she gets with regard to the space station information. "Wonderful," she quietly says back. "I really do look forward to it. I am always keeping up with space news, as it is a side passion, though one I really would never claim to know much about. I just... look forward to where Humanity is headed, when it comes to the stars. Thank you for your time, I won't pester you any further, though." She says, trying hard to be humble, since she's wearing a literal badge that tells people what her intentions most likely revolve around.

Another soft nod is given to Carol, and to Hal. "Thanks again, I best go find a good view for the show." The Briton says, an underlying cheery edge to her words. "Safe flying, to both of you. I promise not to get rowdy in the water, should I actually indulge later." She adds, as she separates herself from the group of high society-types, her heart rate elevated from that exchange, as she's rather new to such things, when it comes to her hopeful career.

As a kid, Rhona used to interact with high society types all the time back home. But in those days, she just gave them the stink-eye, and did everything in her power to get away as quickly as possible. But, that is par for the course for being a kid, and now transitioning in to an adult life, right?

Right?

Rhona appears beside April, poking her mentor's shoulder after seeing her texting. "you're not utterly sloshed, are you?" She asks, showing her a playful grin.

April O'Neil has posed:
April O'Neil perks up at bit at the arrival of her assistant, and grins over the edge of her glass, "It takes a /little/ bit more than two drinks to get me there, Rhona," she replies, "Why? Hoping to catch me off guard?" with a wink. She then looks around and asks, "Want to go see the show?" as the fireworks begin.

Hal Jordan has posed:
In the grand scheme of things, Hal has seen many of the countless wonders that the endless expanse has to offer. Even here locally, the Justice League's moon-based Watchtower offers a pretty impressive view of this particularly little blue-green orb in the heavens.

But despite the exposure, the notion of another space-based platform does actually get the dark haired test pilot excited. The fact that humanity, as a spieces, is crawling a little further and further out into the cosmos can't help but spark that boyhood imagination.

And imagination is such a big part of what he does. "I, for one, am greatly looking forward to seeing how it progresses," he asserts before the redheaded CEO of Stark Industries slips off.

As those first colored bursts begin to illuminate the skies over the nearby river, Hal turns that glinting gaze back towards Carol, easy grin sliding over his expression once more. This time when he reaches for her hand there is no sort of hesitation, just taking hold of it.

And damn anyone who wants to make an issue of it.

There is too much history there -- bad and very, very good -- to worry overly what anyone else thinks. Yes, the fact that the Jordan's and the Ferris's are connected in so very many, many ways might be part of the reason he keeps his job.

But it's not the only one.

So while he might not want to make things difficult on her and her role as CEO of the company, he's not particularly given to worrying about waht other people think.

And it's hardly the biggest challenge that they've had to overcome.

"I would accuse you of taking the fun out of everything," Hal says, winking at his hostess, figners squeezing around her own. "But I think we both know that I certainly wouldn't be able to back that up.
"We are at least going to take the time to watch the show. If I need to be all dressed up, I need to be suitably distracted and entertained. C'mon," he says, this time guiding her towards a somewhat better vantage point to take the whole things in, more explosions of light and color starting to join those initial ones.

You would think flying through a supernova would have it beat. But it all still very much has it's charms.

Rhona Lauren has posed:
With her phone already out, and a text being sent off to another C6 News intern; with the intent to gloat about her exclusive interview with Stark CEO Virginia Potts, Rhona shoots it off before looking to April on her right. She takes another swig of her bottle of water, before twisting the cap back upon the bottle's top. Her eyes go to the fireworks, and then back to the reporter beside her. "I suppose so. Celebrating your treasonous ways..." The British native states, naturally teasing her older friend, and co-worker. "Come on, don't fall down when you stand up, either." She further chides, as she mockingly helps her to her feet, clearly really running with this April is Drunk theme.

Mark Grayson has posed:
As the fireworks begin, Mark's attention is drawn to them. He considers them for a moment and then a glance aside to Sunny. "I think I agree with you. We should find a better view." What could be a better view than here? Well, when you're a pair of aliens from the same world, the sky is your limit. And seeing the fireworks from a few hundred feet up is a whole different view.

Sunny Harlow has posed:
Hands come to claim Mark's as he makes to lead her, a nod of her head and a smile to the billionaire before she comes to grin lightly and squeeze his hand. A nod, a silent 'lets go' mouthed his way as they start to move for somewhere they could take off and take to the sky. After all, it was wonderful enough to look at fireworks from below...but from above or in the midst? Well, that was a whole other world.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol can't help looking out towards those initial pops, then the bigger explosions that turn into giant balls of color that sparkle and shimmer.

She's still looking when she feels Hal's hand slip into hers, their fingers lacing together like there was simply no other option -- no other way for them to exist in nature. And when she looks back up at him, it's as if a weight was lifted off of her chest.

There's her take-charge, damn-the-torpedoes pilot. The one that brings a little color to her cheeks with that wink.

"Well, one of us has to be the stick-in-the-mud," she explains, as if _that_ answer was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "It's in the rulebook."

Beat. Blink.

"Didn't you get a copy of the rulebook?"

Blink.

"I can make sure you have a copy of it left -- "

Her voice trails off in pleased laughter as she's hauled rather purposefully to a better vantage point. There's nowhere really 'private' at this venue. In fact, inside, they're still packed in rather like sardines. But that seems to be how they like it in there on the dance floor, under all of those myriad sized disco balls with the music thumping and the fireworks exploding.

And it isn't long before they're approaching a spot that, frankly, good enough.

It's a spot that's cozy enough that Carol tucks herself into the crook of his arm without a second thought.

It's a spot where, for a few seconds, she's actually watching the show with big eyes reflecting all of the colors of those explosions.

And then, it's a spot where the explosions seem all but forgotten as she turns to look up at him, the lines of his profile, the strength in his cheeks, the way his skin was _just_ starting to show signs of real maturity in the very fine wrinkles that she could spend hours just staring at...

...that she had spent hours staring at, while he'd slept.

She'd known him since she was seven years old.

To say that they had history would be an understatement.

There's no man alive that even comes close to making her feel the way that Hal Jordan does. And no matter how proper she tries to be, or how uncertain she gets about their on-again-off-again romance, there are some moments in which the way she feels about him shines brighter than any star.

Could have simply stood there, watching the fireworks with her head on his shoulder. It would have been nice. And warm. And exactly what she needed from him.

But instead she stared, enjoying the colors reflecting off of his skin, and the curve of his mouth, because there's one more thing she needs from him first.

And damn anyone who wants to make an issue of it.

Hal Jordan has posed:
There probably aren't exactly a whole lot of eyes left on them regardless.

They might cut a reasonably distinguished look together like this, but the fireworks have begun and while the entire club might have no have started to ground out towards the overlook of the river to get a better look, it would be a close thing.

That music plays behind them as they manage to pick out a reasonably good vantage point, not overly obstructed by anyone in front of them, the glittering waters of the Hudson awash in the reflected glow present in the skies above as those river-borne barges launch they payload, all intricately synchornized so that the displays go off from multiple locations, all along the river. Whites and red explosions might predominate, long trailing lines of line bursting above, trailing towards the waters below in a shower of sparkles, but other colors occasionally mix in here and there to complete the package.

For all his earlier reluctance to make any sort of scene, it is probably remarkable that he didn't just sweep her into his arms. Despite their recent encounter on Zamaron, there is something a little different about finally managing to find the time to be together back on their own world, and even when he manages to open a path to their chosen overlook, he doesn't release her hand.

Not this time.

"Rulebook? You should know me better then that," Hal scoffs. Even with the distraction of the fireworks, even that initial enthusiasm can't keep his eyes off of her for very long. "I threw that thing away a long time ago. I thought you would have recognized that fact," he points out with a little grin.

There are no masks this time, no particular obstructions pretending to hide the features of faces that they would probably instantly recognize, no matter how particularly thorough the covering.

After all that effort to find a half-decent view of the display, of the explosions in the sky or the flares of light shooting up from those barges in a cascading cone of sparks, now that he actually has a choice in the matter, the most lavish display in the world wouldn't hold a candle to his interest in just relearning the little quirks about her.

It has been far, far too long. That's probably something that they both would agree on. Now. And whenever.

"I'm glad you could make time for this. I imagine it wasn't easy getting back," he murmurs, leaning in a little closer now. With all eyes on the sky, even in this crowd it almost feels like they have some semblance of privacy. "That we are both here, at the same time."

For a change.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol was worried about everything. All of the time.

In some ways, they were _so_ different. She was measuring every little reaction toward them -- not just to keep them safe, but to gauge what impact the opinions they're forming might have on how they deal with her or Ferris Air.

How does it look at the President and CEO has an on-again-off-again relationship with one of her employees?

Will Stark Industries partner with them in the future once Pepper assumes she's just exploiting her position? Granted, that would be rich, given her well-known relationship with Tony Stark...

But that gives her hope, too -- a well known, successful couple who started working together and fell in love. And they managed to keep the respect of their business partners.

Of course, that's _one_ example of a success. There are plenty more really epic scandals out there, and she and Hal don't exactly the the most pristine example of a flawless relationship...

But _feeling_ the pressure from those around her, even when it was just pressure she imagined, always made her tense. It always made her second guess. It always made her hold back.

...when all she wanted to do was kiss him. And keep kissing him until the fireworks show ended and everyone went home. And then keep kissing him until the sun came up. And then... well... maybe then they could get breakfast. Maybe.

'I'm glad you could make time for this.'

It stings.

It wasn't supposed to. She can see the truth of it in his eyes. It was sincere. He _was_ glad that she could come back for this, to be here with him, to be watching this display, to be tucked in against him.

It's romantic. And wonderful. And it's _so_ good to be here with him.

But it was so much less complicated when he was the only one that ran off, gallivanting around the galaxy, while she waited for him to come home. She fact that she had her own interstellar obligations, now?

The fact that he could look at her -- and with all sincerity -- tell her that he was glad she could make time for this... for him?

It... hurt. More than it should have.

"I'd still like to talk to you."

She doesn't lean away from that closeness. If anything, her body turns ever-so-subtly towards him, curling in closer to his chest until she's looking up and her breath is on his cheek.

"About making time. More time. About what's important."

A particularly powerful firework rattles some of the windows, its percussive force enough to feel the shockwave as a soft gust of wind.

"...About being us. Again."

Hal Jordan has posed:
Things have changed a lot in a decade.

Back then he was the one who suddenly had no time. Who was caught up in the whirlwind of Abin Sur's crash landing on Earth. On being chosen, out of all the world's inahbitants, as the one most worthy to wield the Guardians' greatest weapon. After spending a lifetime of more or less ducking responsibility, even as an Air Force Captain at the youthful age of twenty-three, having it well and truly thrust on him.

Nor was that exactly the only issue to stand between them.

He might be regarded as a little unreliable now. But in many ways, despite being literally all but unreachable for weeks at a time, that's nothing compared to how it could be then.

They have, needless to say, been through a lot. Both in their relationship as Carol and Hal. But also as Green Lantern and Star Sapphire. It has, to put it mildly, been something of a rocky road.

And yet here they both are, so many years later. Standing here tonight.

It is not hard to read that look in her eye. He knows it all too well. He's seen it reflected in the mirror back at him when he has rehearsed what he was going to say. To her, to his mother, to his siblings or nieces and nephews. Whenever he has missed a family event. Missed a date night. Missed some other critical milestone that he promised he would be there for.

There has been a lot of them. With her and with others.

Even when he hasn't been training, or taking care of something for the Guardians, his sector of space encompassed thousands of star systems. And a surprisingly high number of them are actually inhabited. Earth might be his home. But Sector 2814 is his responsibility.

And these days, Hal actually takes his responsibility seriously.

"Hey," he says quietly, fingers curling around hers. For a moment the firework display is entirely forgotten. For a moment the crowd around them doesn't matter. He really can't help himself. He wants to find a way to make it better. Wants to find the words that will help.

"If anyone gets it, it's me Carol. You have a responsibility. To Ferris, to the Sapphires. So do I," he adds quietly.

Which doesn't exactly make it any easier for them both to find times when they can manage something like this evening. To spend it together.

Which makes him even more aggressively indifferent to what anyone else thinks. Though that is perhaps a little easier for him. It's not his company. Countless billions of lives might depend on the Green Lantern for safety. But he's not employing thousands who depend on Carol to steer the ship and take care of their livelihood.

His other hand slips into hers as well, drawing her in close to him at that.

Talks between them can always be fraught things to consider. Sometimes very good. Sometimes very bad. Ask Hal, they do a lot of their best communicating without any words at all.

But any concerns about just what it might be about this time are rather swiftly banished and a wry smile slips over his features. "I'd like that," he admits, even that burst of fireworks as they approach the crescendo not able to pull his attention away.

"So, how about just as soon as you can stop playing hostess, why don't we slip away. Maybe put on our own little light show. And talk."

"Sound good, pretty lady?"

Carol Ferris has posed:
As both of their hands curl together, fingers laced, and palms pressed flat, it seems impossible to think there's anything in the galaxy other than the man in front of her.

Just a void with the two of them floating in it, his face somehow illuminated in all of those colors, bursting and fading again like the beating of her heart.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

If he was looking for the right words, he'd found them, and they do everything to sooth those frayed nerves like a balm.

And then he looked at her. He looked into her eyes and said the words that made her want to fly off into the night with him right that moment, damn anyone who had an issue with it, 'So, how about just as soon as you can stop playing hostess, why don't we slip away. Maybe put on our own little light show. And talk.'

There's just a handful of fluttering heartbeats before...

'Sound good, pretty lady?'

And then she's leaning up, stretching through her toes, pushing what little leverage she has left up from the points of her stiletto heels and closing the distance between them.

Lips to lips, she lingers there, squeezing his hands and pulling herself up against him.

Fireworks.

Literally and figuratively.

But she knew that before she ever kissed him.

And after a few seconds, just as she's starting to pull away again, there's a deeper WHOMP from farther away... a brighter flash from down the river. Not part of the show.

Not a firework.

An explosion.

There's murmurs all around them, onlookers turning their attention from the Macy's 4th of July fireworks grand finale to point into the distance.

Carol's heart sinks, but she loosens her grip on Hal and takes a half step back. So much for their own little light show. So much for their talk. Isn't that the way it always happened?

"Go," she urges. "There's private VIP balcony below us. Take the stairs. I'll make our excuses and catch up..."

Love is not jealous.

Love never loses faith.

But for God's sake couldn't love just work with her a _little_?

Hand on his chest, Carol nodded towards the stairs. "Go, while everyone's distracted. I'll find you. I promise."

She would. Because if they've proven anything over the years, it's that they would always find each other. No matter how long it took.