18519/Sparks in the Sky

Sparks in the Sky
Date of Scene:	06 July 2024
Location:	Various
Synopsis:	After the fireworks of the 4th of July celebration in New York City, Carol finally catches up with Hal for that 'talk' she's been trying to have with him: a request for him to move in with her and be public about their relationship. Afterwards? Even more fireworks.
Cast of Characters:	Carol Ferris, Hal Jordan

---

Carol Ferris has posed:
The explosion at the Riverside Chemical Refinery, while spectacular in its own right -- even against the backdrop of the grand finale of Macy's 4th of July Fireworks Extravaganza -- could have been much, much worse.

When it happened, Carol Ferris, dressed in a stunning navy blue cocktail dress and Hal Jordan, wearing (can you believe it?) a tuxedo, had been at the balcony of the rooftop bar Le Bain, where Carol was playing hostess of a Ferris Aircraft open-bar event. Having finally stolen a moment alone together, if one could ever really be 'alone' at such an event, they'd finally decided decided they'd take time talk once the party was over.

Of course, the hand of fate rarely guided events in their favor.

They'd had a glimmer of an opportunity on Zamaron, when Carol had pulled Hal across the universe using the power of love, desperate for his help saving the Star Sapphire's homeworld. With her obligations as leader of the Star Sapphires, not to mention CEO of Ferris Aircraft, Carol hadn't exactly been the most available to him.

"So when are you coming home?" he'd asked her, some time ago.

"When my job is done," she'd answered, throwing back in his face a line that he had used on her so many times before.

But that felt like eons ago, now, and as Hal well knew, the work was never finished. Lately, she'd been yearning for an opportunity to talk to him again, to plead a case for another chance for them before she lost him entirely to someone else. She didn't know how it could possibly work. All she knew was that she loved him, and love would find away if they could both get past their respective histories at the same time and give themselves another chance.

They'd barely finished with the task of defending Zamaron when Carol seized the moment to ask him to stay, but the question had barely left her lips before she'd been pulled away by her people. There were marauders still alive that needed to be dealt with, damage to the Crystal Palace that needed to be repaired, wounded to tend to, defenses to restore and bolster...

...and Hal couldn't wait. Shouldn't have to wait. So even as Carol tended to her obligations as leader, she watched his green light disappear into the atmosphere.

Just like she watched it streak down the Hudson River.

Only seconds before, they'd been pressed together, fingers interlaced, Carol's face turned up towards him. And he'd smiled down at her. "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?"

She'd been kissing him amid all of the romance and grandeur of the fireworks display, but then there'd been an actual explosion and their romance took a back seat to more pressing matters, as it always did.

"Go," she'd urged, "while everyone's distracted. I'll find you. I promise."

Thankfully, that explosion was already being handled. A team of SHIELD agents with the help of several superheroes had been responsible for getting at least twenty explosive devices either disarmed or hurled out into the river before they could explode and take the chemical plant with it. Failure could have been catastrophic.

But just as Hal was finishing up with SHIELD, a violet light streaked through the sky to join him. Carol kept her promise.

"Carol was... evacuated from the party," she explained as she floated in the air next to him in her full Star Sapphire regalia. "She didn't want to go, but it was out of an abundance of caution for her safety. It can be a burden, all of that responsibility, but she tries to do what's best... even if it's not always what she'd prefer to do."

It's an explanation for her ability to catch up so quickly, an excuse for so much time taken away from him, an apology of sorts... an opening to a dialog that has been on her mind for some time.

"You said something about putting on our own light show?"

And a little, warm smile touches her lips.

Hal Jordan has posed:
There was certainly a time when it seemed unlikely that Hal Jordan of all people would ever truly learn anything about the call and duty inherent in responsibility. True responsibility.

While he might have made Captain in the Air Force at a rather young age, it was skill and that absolute fearlessness that had much more to do with it then any deep rooted sense of responsibility driving him onward. Despite the seriousness of his task, inherent in his job, it was always more about the thrill of it all. About the sheer love that he had for flying.

That he still very much has when it comes to flying.

Now, of course he gets to do so without needing the aircraft. He can soar through the skies wrapped up in his emerald aura. He can break atmosphere, enter orbit, go beyond, past even his wildest imaginings as a youth, staring up at the star-filled sky.

Though none of that has dimmed his love for flying actual aircrafts. That might be one of the reasons he comes back, again and again, to his job as a test pilot at Ferris Aircraft. An unwillingness to give up that first love.

Well, that and her. His other first true love.

There was a time when her innate sense of responsibility, to Ferris, to her family's legacy, to the people reliant on her company for work truly clashed with Hal's live for the moment mentality. One of the many things that has clashed between them over the years.

But it is something that he understands much better now. Something that he has experienced first hand. Something that he has grown into. And while he might not have quite the weight of it resting on his shoulders as she does, responsbility has become an old friend.

He gets it, at last. It might have taken three decades of his life, but he is not exactly the callow youth that he once was.

And he would like to think that he gets her a whole lot better then he once did.

In fairness, while her responsibility -- to Ferris, to her family's legacy, to the Zamarons and the burgeoning Star Sapphire Corps -- might have played a part in keeping them apart on more then one occasion, he has been responsible for more then a few of those gaps between them. First, just with his laissez faire approach to things. And then due to his own growing responsibilities. To his sector. To the Corps.

He too is part of a legacy, one going back millions of years. The ring passed from one worthy Lantern to the next. It is heady stuff to be sure and he has risen in the ranks there, from a raw rookie, doubted as the first of the human race to be so chosen to a stalwart and respected member of the Corp. One in a line that goes back countless millenia.

She, however, is the first. The first Star Sapphire. The Zamaron's first chosen champion for the power of Love. The first of a slowly growing number.

It's a very different sort of responsibility. Hal understands that.

It has been an interesting Independence Day to be sure. The party, the fireworks, and the explosion. Not exactly what he was expecting to be sure.

Nor is it quite over yet.

By the time he arrives, the situation is mostly handled. Little for him to do but aid in the cleanup. Once he would have thought that was beneath him.

He's grown up a lot since then.

Still, as that tell tale violet glow begins to fill the sky with it's radiance, joing his own greenish one, a grin creeps over his expression.

Even while his ring projects energy domes down below, wrapping up the few remaining active explosive devices so they can be detonated safely in that field of pure Will energy, it is his turn to race upward to meet her, his turn to close that distance in nary a heartbeat, sliding in close to her side.

"Glad you could get away," he says lowly.

Then his hand finds hers at almost the same time as his lips find her own. And for just a moment everything is right in the world.

Carol Ferris has posed:
Carol's watched him for most of those three decades. Sometimes it's been from a distance, with huge gaps of day-to-day specifics that she'll never know about, but she'd been at least a presence in his life for most of the major events.

And more than just a mere 'presence' for quite a few of them.

She's watched him grow from boy, to impassioned and reckless youth, to bold and reckless young man, to the hero of sector 2814. And as the years she knew him grew, so did her affection and respect for him -- for his heart, his strength, his bravery, his loyalty, his resolve. It didn't always work out well for them when their wills collided, but if it were any other way, he wouldn't be the man she loved.

Of course, she's never been perfect, either.

A woman in a male-dominated field with too much to prove. A pilot. A CEO. The boss's daughter, who was handed the reins of a billion-dollar aerospace manufacturing company. She worked twice as hard as anyone else at the company and got half as much respect for her effort. She flew jets right to the edge of her ability. In the cockpit, she may be no match for the man that glows in front of her, but she was a hell of a lot better than many of the men he flew combat missions with. And she earned every ounce of respect she got as a pilot through her own blood, sweat, and tears. She had no military experience to draw from. All she had was raw passion.

But that was the story of her life. Raw passion.

Passion for her father's legacy, her duties to Ferris Airfact, and her employees.

Passion for the creation and constant improvement of the Star Sapphire Corps.

Passion for the man who's fingers interlace with hers even as she stretches up to meet his lips, her free hand reaching up to his cheek, clinging to him like she never wanted this moment to end.

That much passion can be -- and has been -- dangerous. It can rip her apart at the seams, sometimes. But she never claimed to be perfect. She never claimed to have all the answers. She never said she would never make a mistake, never regret a decision, never wish she could take back a hurt she'd caused.

It wasn't all her fault. Just like it wasn't all his.

The only thing she was certain of was that she was better with him than without him, and as her light glowed just a little brighter into that kiss, it's hard to deny that his presence makes her stronger -- literally and figuratively.

Slowly, she spun in place with him. It's a dance of sorts. She loved doing that... feeling the freedom as the wind caressed them, toyed with he hair, and reminded them both of that sense of freedom. And just at the edges of their respective glows, the colors melded together, swirling and mixing until they were one and in that moment seemed all but inseparable. Sadly, it wasn't the case. If they ever stopped dancing, stopped _trying_ to mix their essences together, they separated again... back into their component parts... alone in the galaxy, yet vibrant in their own ways.

Carol was so tired of being alone yet vibrant. It would take effort, constant attention and conscious thought to keep their essences mixed together, but after so much time apart, she could take it slow, remind them both how much better they are together than apart...

"I want you to move in with me."

Or, in typical Carol fashion, she could just get right to the point. Given how many times she's tried to talk to him and been thwarted, though, could anyone really blame her?

"I know... I know how it sounds. If neither of us are ever home..."

She's looking up at him imploringly, fingers squeezing.

"I love you. You know that. You're important to me. I want... I want to find a way make this work. I want... you."

But at least she didn't propose... right? Not that it hadn't occurred to her.

Hal Jordan has posed:
They are each their father's children to be sure.

For her it has meant following in the footsteps of a man who built his company from the ground up before passing the reins onto her. To have to live up to all of that, and do it all as a woman in an industry still very much dominated by men. To fight and claw for every ounce of respect that she is going to get.

Some might feel she was handed the proverbial keys to the kingdom. Each of them knows that the truth is very different.

And Hal? Hal had a legacy to overcome as well. Martin Jordan was a legend in his own right and his death even more so in some respects. Hal's had to measure himself against a ghost, a towering figure in his mind, the memories of a child that might grow a little dimmer with each passing year. But the spirit still endures.

It is the reason that he still wears that old bomber jacket almost everywhere he goes -- the occasional reception with her aside. The man still looms large in his life.

As well he should.

While Hal might have only been a kid when he passed away, in some respects the way that he shaped his life, the way that his death affected Hal plays no small part in what makes him such a good Green Lantern.

While Hal might have learned a sense of responsiblity all on his own -- eventually -- his father, or more specifically his death, taught him about fear.

Green Lanterns are known for being fearless. It is one of their defining traits. One of the criteria for admittance into the Corps. And certainly on the surface at least Hal benefits from a certain reckless daring -do, a willingness to throw himself headlong into any situation without hesitation.

But being fearless and being reckless can be a fine line, one that is much easier to walk when one knows a little something about fear. The fear that comes from watching his father's plane break up, from losing the most important figure in his life at a young age.

Those are the sorts of things that only they might recognize in one another. From nearly three decades spent in close proximity. Not all of the time of course. There have been separations. Plenty of them. Sometimes on his part, sometimes on hers. But so many of the truly important moments have revolved around one another in the end. Have shaped them. Helped them grow.

Nothing can change that.

They must make for a strange sight, to those on the ground, far below. Two glowing figures, shedding their respective auras, lighting up the sky with that fierce violent glow, that pure emeral green light. And while they might each where the mantle of Green Lantern and Star Sapphire respectively, spinning together in that aerial dance, playing through the night sky as they have so often before, at their heart they remain just Hal and Carol. As they have since they were seven years old.

In it's own way it is a dance every bit as intricate as any they could have undertaken in the F-15s they might have flown back in the day. The cocky test pilot fresh out of the military and the bosses daughter. And still just Hal and Carol.

But there is something glorious about not being constrainted by the cockpit too. To feel the wind in one's hair. To not just be voices on the comm as they throttle through the skies. But to be able to see that same light reflected in each of their eyes. That same warmth.

That same love.

He knew the talk had to be relatively serious. It was plain that it would be about them. But Hal probably never expected her to ask such a significant if simple question to kick it off.

His head tilts and he seems to study her for a moment, serious intent. On again and off again certainly is one way to describe them. Maybe the best way.

And certainly they still have any number of things that could easily come between them from time to time. Responsibilities at the foremost of that list. Responsibilities that might sometimes conflict.

Hal Jordan has posed:
But what matters is what each of them wants. And like her, Hal wants her. Wants to find a way to make this work.

"I love you to Carol. And I'd love to see if we can make this work. Yes, I'll move in with you."

Carol Ferris has posed:
"Good. Because I already cleaned out a bunch of closet space for you, and I was really going to hate it if I gave all those clothes away for no reason."

Humor glints in her violet eyes, but it's barely a speck on the ocean of excitement and happiness that rushes over her like a tidal wave of pure joy.

She rushes up for another kiss, clinging to him with even ferocity.

There's more, of course, to that request to merge their lives, than the mere act of having the same 'home' to come back to -- though that's significant in and of itself. It's also an open and unapologetic admission to the world that Carol Ferris and Hal Jordan are an item.

For some people, this will be an 'again.' Those closest to them have always known when Hal and Carol were on... and back off... and on... and back off. Not the least of which because Carol's day to day moods were always at least a little affected by loneliness, by looking out into the stars and wondering where Hal is and if he's safe, by wondering if she'll ever see him again and how long it might be.

She was open with her closest friends, but she tried not to let those feelings creep into her work. Still, it's impossible to keep them all out.

This, though mostly a side affect, would be an open admission to the world -- or, at least, anyone who cared to read the tabloids. And anyone at Ferris Air who didn't already know about them (which, let's face it, was probably a far smaller number than Carol would have liked to admit). Carol generally prided herself on discretion for both of their sakes, though it was largely selfish. Whispers about Hal, the company's best pilot, sleeping with the boss were likely to earn him high-fives. Carol had always looked at her position as facing the more dubious, up-hill challenge: using her position to take advantage of one of her employees.

More likely, that worry was entirely in her head. Most people already knew what was going on, even if she didn't like to think about it, and most accepted the facts for what they were: two life-long friends who grew up together, flew together, and fell in love together.

Still, Hal's decision to accept was a dubious one at best. Looking at the long record of their relationship, the odds of success of this next attempt were incredibly slim. They'd barely ever been able to get to the 'serious' part before things fell apart, and this time Carol was wanting to jump ahead to that.

But Hal had always been a brave one. And maybe Carol was counting on that just a little.

"This is big! We should celebrate. I bet, if we fly to California, I bet we can catch the fireworks show in Los Angeles..."

There's a little twinkle of playfulness in her eyes.

"...Or we could go home and work on our own."

Or they could go anywhere else in the galaxy. As long as they were together.

Hal Jordan has posed:
Theirs has usually been a relationship fraught with all manner of complications. Moving in together isn't likely to change that, at least not entirely.

To be sure, the fact that Carol is his boss will likely raise a few eyebrows. Oh, probably not amongst the majority of her employees, his fellow co-workers. No matter how discrete they might try to be, their attraction to one another goes back a long way at this point. It is unlikely that they are fooling anyone.

To outsiders though it might appear to be something else entirely. To those that don't know them quite as well. Who haven't watched them grow up, who have no idea about some of the things they've been through. Irrespective of the fact that they spend a considerable amount of time off the planet entirely.

In fairness that might be the only reason that Hal shows any discretion at all when it comes to her. He certainly isn't overly given to worrying what other people think. Particularly strangers.

But it doesn't effect him in the same way it does her. Hence that reason to be willing to compromise.

While he doesn't hesitate for even a moment to agree to her suggestion -- whether due to boldness or simply a desire to maybe, just maybe find a better means to make it work this time -- there is still a certain strangeness to the idea.

Not so much in living with her. A decade ago he might have bolted upright, made some excuse and run as far as he could possibly go at the thought of moving in with any woman, even her. That has long since changed. He can honestly say that he is looking forward to it.

No, the strange notion is actually having a home again.

He left home -- the one he grew up in -- just as soon as he could enlist in the military. And he never looked back. Coast City, his mom, his siblings, they will always be his family. But it has been a long time since they were home.

He has quarters in the Hall of Justice, in the Watchtower, more for convenience then anything else. The same as on Oa. But that has much more to do with his role as Green Lantern then Hal Jordan.

So the idea of having a place that is his, that he can come back to and just feel right -- and even moreso, share with her -- well, that has a rather surprising amount of appeal.

Hal is a little surprised at just how much appeal.

They both still have immense amounts of responsibilities. They serve different masters, work towards slightly different ends. Nothing about that has changed.

But the idea that they might be able to have somewhere shared. Somewhere that they can return to whenever they can, that they might find themselves together. Or at the very least the little, every day remidners that they are still a part of each other's lives, that they are almost assuredly in each other's thoughts?

Yeah, Hal is down for that.

"Wow. Now that's commitment. You do love me," the dark haired pilot retorts with a little grin playing over his features before it is smoothed away under her kiss, arms slipping around her with that easy familiarity that just feels right. And as they tighten there, drawing her into him, there is the sense, no matter how transitory, o matter how illusionary it might seem, maybe this time he won't let go. Maybe neither of them will.

"A celebration definitely seems in order," he agrees, when he can finally bring himself to break that kiss. "And I am a pretty big fan of fireworks," he concedes.

"But I kinda like the sound of going home. With you," he admits with a smile. "I'm pretty sure the resulting fireworks will take care of themselves."