Summary:Peter and Helena seek out the streets…for street food. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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"Hot town, summer in the city…"
Peter steps out of the subway. (Yes, he still uses the subway from time to time.) He looked around, then spotted the side street where twelve food trucks are parked. Every now and then, they get together here for the evening crowds, and it looks like you can get dang near anything.
After confirming that they are out here, he sends a text to Helena. "Food trucks are onsite at my location west of Central Park. Hungry?"
"I'm definitely there," Helena texts back. "See you soon! :)"
When it comes to the city, Helena usually prefers to stick with her motorcycle. It's considerably easier to park than any car, even if you can afford to valet it somewhere. But in this area, even then it can be hard to find a space. So she's on foot when she arrives near the trucks, in jeans, boots, and a navy blue tank top that plays up her eyes. She's left her jacket and her helmet with her bike, but there's a little bit of helmet hair going on.
"Hey, Pete," she greets with a swift smile, leaning in for a quick hug. "So what's the hot truck?"
Peter looks to her and hugs her warmly, trying not to squeeze too hard, but she can feel what the baggy shirt is hiding.
He pulls back, smiles to her, then looks around. "There's so many. One is selling Korean BBQ. One is selling fresh Tex-Mex. And that one over there is selling the meatiest Italian subs I've ever seen in my life. So many to choose from." He looks back to her. "You look great tonight."
Thankfully, Helena's past the heavy bandages point, though she's still grateful enough to give him a little space. "Thanks," she smiles warmly, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she slips an arm around his waist to walk side by side. "Korean BBQ sounds pretty good," she muses. "Or we could just get a little bit of something from all the trucks and share," she suggests.
Peter smiles wryly. "I like where your head is at. But I think we may have to go Dutch. I hope that's not an issue."
Property taxes were due after the extension.
"So, you want to split up so we can do more damage and get a selection while the food is still hot, or go around and sample while moving from truck to truck?"
"Hey, it's a date, no splitting up," Helena laughs, tipping her chin toward the closest truck first. "Takes all the fun out of it. And we can go dutch, sure. You get the drinks, I'll get the food." Which means she's likely putting down most of the money, but it's a tactful way of doing it.
"How goes school prep?" she asks as she steps into the end of the line. "You get registered for classes yet? Or is that something they do later?"
Peter smiles and nods. "Already done. Took early registration, got the classes I need for the Neuroscience program. Although I did get a reality check. Girl named Riri Williams. She's my age and she's alreadt got her MS or Ph.D. from MIT and is doing grad work." He smiles wryly. "So, no longer the smartest teenager in town."
Helena chuckles, setting a hand to his shoulder to give it a squeeze. "Well, take some advice from someone's who's used to being not quite as good as other people. Learn to enjoy other people's excellence. It's great stuff to have in the world, and it doesn't make what you do any less. Just builds on it. That's got to be exciting too though, right?" she asks, quirking a brow. "Knowing the kind of company you'll be keeping?"
"I dunno. Unless she opts to dumpster-dive on the same night I do through Engineer Row, we may not see much of each other. MIT, though." He sighs wistfully as they reach the counter of the Italian food truck. "I will take the Italian beef sub with the cheese and the au jus. Fries and soda." He looked to Helena. "Anything look good?"
"Rosemary garlic fries," Helena adds to the order, flashing a grin at the person manning the window. "That's with the truffle oil, right? Awesome. And a soda for me too, please." She pulls out her share of the cash, and even then there's nothing remarkable - no giant wad of high-value bills.
"MIT is pretty cool," she agrees. "But I'm not sure I could bring myself to leave Aunt May's cooking either. Besides, New York is…well, New York. You get so many other opportunities here. And you know. Random guys in armor falling out of portals in Central Park."
Peter sighs. "And Aunt May would be homeless in a month if I left. No way to focus on classes with that." He looks to Helena. "It's…probably better this way. At least I can keep taking pics of Spider-Man."
"Is that profitable?" Helena asks, smile wry. "Just out of curiosity. Lord knows, we've ducked our fair share of paparazzi in our time. But I have to imagine that getting pictures of someone as fleeting as Spider-Man has to be even trickier." She ducks her chin to hide a wink at the question, people-watching as she waits.
Peter is about to speak when the cashier calls their order number and hands over the food. One quick transaction later, they are walking along. Peter munches, seeming to have little trouble balancing his food. Big shock.
"Well, it's good for extra money." And he's there ANYWAY. "Hey, this sandwich is GOOD. Want a bite?"
Helena is not shy about digging in on the fries, letting out a groan after her first bite. "These are so good," says, picking one out and holding it over. "Trade you?" she grins with a playful arch of her brow.
Peter smirks, dipping a corner of the sandwich in the au jus and holding it up for Helena. "Plane's coming in for a landing…" he says with a wry grin, before chomping on the offered fry.
Helena leans in to take a bit of the sandwich just as she delivers the fry, covering her mouth with the paper boat of fries as she chews. "Oh man. You're right, that's great. Mmmm." Then it's back to her fries as she steps into the next line, munching away. It's not like she's not going to burn the calories later. "Okay, so, important question," she grins. "Star Trek, or Star Wars?"
Peter looks thoughtful. "Trek for the tech, Wars for the story. And it's always fun to MST3K some of the Star Trek episodes."
Peter pauses, sips his drink. "Okay…got one for you. Who's your favorite actor?"
Helena tilts her head for a moment, considering, before she nods approvingly. "Acceptable," she teases, then pauses to consider the next question. "That's…a tough one," she muses. "I mean, for favorite person who's an actor, I think I have to go with The Rock. Because he just seems like a really cool guy. Like, if you ran into him on the street, he'd be totally cool about it and take a selfie and tell you a fun joke or something. You?"
Peter thinks for a moment. "It's a tossup. Nathan Fillion because of the kind of guy he is…or John Cena. Not the greatest of actors, but over 500 Make-a-Wish events? Man's got a heart as big as New York." He pauses. "Did I tell you about my favorite movie character being Rocky Balboa?"
"I like your style, Parker," Helena laughs, passing over another fry. "And I can't say that surprises me at all. You're not the sort to let life get you down when you can have a nice montage and work up to it instead. Okay, who's your favorite hero?" she asks "And why?"
Peter pauses. "Hmmm…tough concept. I don't know many heroes. I would have to say…Silk. And why is that she gets nothing from helping people, but does it anyway."
"Silk," Helena echoes, then turns a teasing smile on him. "Part of the…what did Jameson call them? The Spider-Harem? God, he's an ass," she rolls her eyes. "Because obviously no woman would go into the crime-fighting business except to please a man." She fakes a gag, then takes a sip of her soda.
Peter sighs. "Careful, I work for the derriere in question. At least we have Sable Spider now, so the male-to-female ratio is changed slightly…mmm, thise fries are good, shoulda got those." He pauses for a moment. "What about you? Who's your fave hero or heroine?"
"Probably Captain America," Helena says with little hesitation, though she sounds like she's thinking it over. "Just…again, on the basis of being a good person. Though there's also Reed Richards, who is just…I mean, I'd admire him even if he wasn't a hero, because it's just the genius of everything he does that's impressive. Way more impressive than super stretchy powers or anything he might do with them. Although I hear that Spider-Man guy is also pretty smart and a good guy," she winks. "So. Might be moving up in the world."
Peter nods. "And so far, he seems the only guy who is seen all over the city. I hope I'm wrong, though." He finishes his sub quickly (he hasn't eaten all day, natch) and starts in on the fries. "Are you college-bound, Helena?"
Helena sighs heavily at the question, though she looks a little embarrassed. "Maybe?" She eats a few more fries, mulling it over. "I got in. I can. I just…don't know if it's what I want to do. I don't really know what I want to do. I don't know what I think I'm going to do with it. I love the sciences, of course. I enjoy programming. But what am I going to do, just…get a job? Where? One day I'm going to inherit Wayne, and what then? I mean, with that in mind, I'd be better served getting a business degree, but I literally can't think of anything more boring than that."
Peter shrugs, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Well, Helena, you're a very smart person. Find that balance. Learn how to be the best at what you can do. Maybe you don't have to be the CEO. As long as you can be the CIO, handle that part of the business. Maybe someone you know, or someone you meet, can fill that CEO role. But don't feel like you have to give up who you are to fill someone else's need. Maybe college will help you figure out what you really want to do. Stark owns the whole company and he still finds time to work on his own projects, after ll."
"Ooh, don't let Dad hear you hold Tony Stark up as an example," Helena laughs, smile wry. "I'm not sure he'll buy that as a decent example. But yeah, you're not wrong. I just kind of hate classrooms," she admits. "Probably get it from Mom. But sitting in a room listening to people talk is just…the worst for me. I'll read, I'll study, I'll experiment, I'll watch people do things. But verbal information dumps really don't do anything for me. Which makes me wonder if college is the best fit for me anyhow. But I also know that Dad, at least, would definitely not be a fan of me not going to college, so."
Peter pauses near the Tex-Mex truck. "I don't know if this sounds too stalker-ish, but…I'm taking Advanced Chem, Logic Systems in Programming, 3-D Physics, and a couple of electives. If those sound good, why don't you take the same classes? This way, you can give your dad a comprehensive outline abiout what works about college and what doesn't.
Helena quirks a brow, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "And hey, we might be able to spend some more time together, and if you get a little bit, shall we say, caught up, there'd be someone to give you notes?" She finishes off her fries, washing them down with a sip of her soda. "Not the worst plan I've ever heard."
Peter grins. "And if you find something worth staying for…and I don't mean me, let's be serious…then you can continue your education. Even if you know it, there may be something new you can learn. And maybe it will help you find your true calling."
"I'll think about it," Helena nods, stepping up to the window at the truck. "I'll have the pork BBQ tacos, please," she orders, looking over to Peter for his order. "Ir's not a bad idea, though. And at least it's a little more of a plan than just…going to school because of course you're going to school."
Peter holds up a hand. "I'll have the chicken quesadilla with the green chiles." He gave Helena a gentle smile. "I know there are things I know, and there are gaps in my education. I'm not going to college to just fill those gaps, but to find out what they are and how best to fill them. And we can study together, so you won't have to face this alone.
"Even if I decide to slip a fashion class in there?" Helena asks, leaning against the side of the truck as she waits for their food. "I won't make you study for that with me. Even I have limits to my cruelty."
Peter smirks. "Uh-huh. And I won't make you study with me for my lit class or my Interpersonal Communication class. One thing I need to do better is communicate with others and those classes will help."
"Hey, I might actually be good at helping with interpersonal communication," Helena laughs, taking the food from the window and passing one basket to Peter before taking her own to move out of the way. "Seems like I do a lot of that sometimes. I think it comes from all the different kids Dad's brought in over the years," she explains. "Different viewpoints, different life experiences, lots of adjustment. It was just kind of life, finding a way to fit all of us together."
Peter took the basket, looking at the contents for a moment before looking back up to Helena. "Well, I'll let you quiz me on some of it. And if you pick something up that you can use, so much the better." He took a bite. "Aw, Helena, you gotta try this." He swallowed, then said, "Is there anything you want from me, Helena? Anything you need to know?"
Helena holds over one of the trio of tacos from her basket. "Trade you," she says again, smile wry, before her brows rise at the question. "Like what?" she asks, sounding amused. "Peter, I'm pretty sure you already told me the biggest thing that could conceivably have been a surprise. What sort of things do you think girls want to know?"
Peter held up one wedge of the quesadilla for Helena to nosh on. "If I knew, Helena, would I ask in such a general way? i think it's well-established that I have trouble understanding women."
Helena leans over to take a bite, humming her approval afterwards. "Well, I don't have a whole lot of dating experience myself," she chuckles once she swallows. "But I'm pretty sure that the most important thing is being honest. Which you don't seem to have a problem with. I mean, and not cheating?" she adds, a brief flicker of insecurity in her eyes. "I mean, we're young, it's not like I'm planning out nursing homes, but if or when you get bored or decide to move on, just…tell me first, yeah?"
Peter raises both eyebrows. He looked gobsmacked. "What…uhm, sorry. No, here's what I want to say. If I feel that we're not developing and it is for some valid reason, I will talk to you. Face to face. None of this 'breakup over text' nonsense. Cowards do that."
"Cool." Helena leans in to press a kiss to his cheek, smile crooked. "Then I think we're probably good. Anything you want to know about me?" she asks, starting in on one of the tacos.