2011 11 23 Golfing Therapy

Log Title: Golfing Therapy
Characters: The Thing and Ms. Marvel
RL Date: 2011-11-23
IC Date: 2011-11-23
Location: The rooftop of the Baxter Building
Brief log summary:: Benjamin Grimm and Carol Danvers talk about therapies, tensions, and golf. Seriously.
Rating: pg
There is no TS in this log:: Yes

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The days are getting shorter and by the end of the work day the sun is gone and blackness looms in the sky. City lights eat the soft and beautiful star-light. Something Ben misses when he is earth bound and not up in some great can in the stratospher. Still the twinkle of lights and the din of activity in this ever beating heart of humanity is calming to him. He likes to open the hangar doors and look out over the city, to drink it in and sooth his burdened soul. "Fore!!!!!" And even as Ben bellows he swings a golf driver in a crisp arc and with an ignomious 'tock' launchs a golf ball into the sky and hurtling across the city and dissappearing into the skyline and heading for the Atlantic presumable to meet a briney destiny. Apparantly Ben comes here to work on his t-shot as well as introspection. The ball is going … going … going …

Hey! Wait just a darned minute? What is that particular twinkling light, and why is it getting closer? Rapidly? And it's coming from the direction where Ben just sent his latest golf ball. Within a minute or so, that glow resolves into the shape of a tall blonde woman in a black bodysuit, thigh-high boots and mid-bicep gloves, surrounded by a golden glow of energy. And she is holding a golf ball in her left hand. "Hey, Benji! What's the big idea here, launching this at my noggin? Did I go and make you mad or something? Scuff the Fantasticar's paintjob? Or what?" It seems Carol Danvers, formerly a Major with the United States Air Force, callsign Cheeseburger, and now known as the superheroine Ms. Marvel, takes a bit of exception to the Thing's latest nocturnal activity.

Ben recoils, like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar. He even quickly puts the driver behind his back even though it is /clearly/ to late and Carol's already seen it. "What? I wasn't launchin' nothin' at yer noggin honest! I mean… If someone wuz practicing their driving up here, even though Suzie told him not, he might know somethin' but I'm clearly not so I don't know what your talking about." He clears his throat an then says, "But um….." finally he lowers his arms, revealing (well again) the offending implement, "I swear I wasn't aiming at nobody. I usually hit 'em all the way into the harbor." He pauses, "I didn't actually hit you did I?" And for all the stammering asside, the last question rings genuinely pensive and……….. Waitaminute…. Carol's call sign was Cheeseburger?

Yep. Callsign Cheeseburger, earned when she was a rookie in flight school, when someone managed /not/ to warn her about a pending high-G test beforehand. After a nice greasy cheeseburger at the commisary, she went to training and ended up seeing that sandwich all over again. They never let the otherwise perfect rookie live that one down. That's the way flight school is, always has been, and likely always will be. "Benjamin Grimm, I think that's enough." Carol offers, fighting to repress a chuckle at his antics. She floats over and lands on the deck beside him, holding out the ball. "I know you weren't aiming at me intentionally, ya big lug. Your eyes aren't /that/ good. And don't worry. I caught it /before/ it beaned me." Hence why she's here to give it back to Ben. "You that bored, Ben? You're challenging Suzie-Q's rules /and/ firing perfectly good golf balls into Namor's territory. That qualifies as bored, right?

Takes the pro-offered golfball and says, "Thanks. And I do recover 'em. Each one has a little tracer in them. Reed an I used to test em this way but.. well… Suze yelled at us. Sorry I almost beened yah, good think ya got that cosmic sense or whatever you call it." Ben says with a crooked smile, "But yeah I guess I'm bored. Not that I'm complaining, because not bored using means I'm trying to stuff some big tooth nashing critter from the negative zone back into whatever hole in reality strech's made this week." Ben shakes his head. He tosses up the ball and catches it, "What about you? Ya out on Avenger patrol, or are ya just a bit restless yourself?"

Carol chuckles a bit at the news of the tracers embedded in the golf balls. "Trust Reed to help you with your inner delinquent." she teases. Admittedly, though, helping Ben with his golf balls is a lot less harmful than half the crap Reed gets up to, and she knows it. "Honestly, a bit of both? I volunteer for the Avengers patrols, because I get restless and need to get out some. I can't help it. Flying was the best part of that stupid accident that turned me into this, and after everything else I've been through, flying is the one thing that has stayed pure. So I embrace it when I can." Her inner pilot wouldn't have it any other way. "I'm headed back from another session with Doc Samson, honestly." Yeah. She doesn't sound happy.

"Hey no long faces, darlin'" Ben says at the mention of seeing Doc Samson again, "Leonard's good folk. He can help yah out. An' ya got friends that are hear for you whenever you need us ta be." Ben says as he reaches out to pat Carol's shoulder fondly. "You know what will make you feel better." he holds out his golf-driver, "C'mon…. give a golf-ball a good whack and send it flying! It feels /great/ I promise."

Carol merely shrugs a bit, accepting Ben's well-meaning kindness even if she is a tad uncomfortable with it. Carol has never been that comfortable exposing her emotions and feelings to others, especially as they relate to her vulnerabilities. "I appreciate it. I do. And he is good people. He has done right by me." Hey, she's eighteen-months sober, in no small part due to his continued efforts to help her deal with her inner demons without the alcohol to numb them to insensibility. "I'm not much of a golfer, Ben." she comments. But she does accept the driver and move about to take position, lining up for a tee-box shot. It can't hurt to try, right? What she really needs, though, is a few bad guys to pound. That always makes her feel better.

"Oh I'm a terrible golfer. I just love reelin' back and smacking the hell out of the ball. I don't think I can last more than 4 holes on a regular course. Too much walking. Not enough hitting." Ben shakes his head, "Reed never lets me golf with any of his doctor buddies anymore. One time I started getting restless and started to trying to tackle people and block their shot when they yelled 'Fore!'" Which Ben helpfully, and completely unnessecarily yells for effect. "I wuz just trying to make the game more exciting." He looks out over the city, echoing Carol's unspoken though that a good clobberin' would do them both good. "It doesn't replace a good old-fashioned clobberin' though. Hrm.. I wonder if the Wreckin' Crew has escaped recently. They're always rarin' for a fight…."

Carol chuckles ruefully at that. "I haven't seen anything come over the wire about them escaping. Too bad, though. I'd love to go a few rounds with them." Anything to vent her frustrations. The blonde eyes the ball, then hauls off and hits it. It's a terrible, terrible slice, but the ball sails out like a shot nonetheless, just hooks terribly. Yuck. "I wouldn't mind some Hydra goons to pound. Or MODOK. He's always good for a few rounds." It seems she and Ben both subscribe to the violence-as-therapy routine.

"Nice shot!" Ben, after all, seems less concerned with a well placed shot than he does just hitting it really really far. "Yeah MODOK. I ain't heard much out of him in a long time. Though I gotta say…. and I realize, this is kinda one of those living in a glass house and throwin' stones kinda thing but…. MODOK and his big floating head and l'il baby arms kinda creeps me out. Hydra goons are always good for a scrap. Especially when they end up with some Mandroids they steal offa shield." Ben shakes his head, "How Nick can always be loosing his shit to them is beyond me."

"It's because it's not really Nick. It's everyone who /works/ for Nick." And they're by necessity not nearly as good as Nicholas Fury himself. Carol shrugs and hands Ben back his driver, realizing that honestly swatting little balls isn't nearly as therapeutic as pounding on bad guys. Maybe there's a bank robbery somewhere? "MODOK creeps me out on the whole mental front. But I like beating him." Honesty is the best policy. "Anyway. That's why I go flying."

"Hey, believe me, I'm one guy you never need to explain the need to go flying for a bit to." Ben says as he takes the driver and tucks it beneath his arm. "Heck if you ever want company I'll dust off the ole flyin' bath tub and come and join yah. That way if'n we find a brawl we can make sure it's an epic one." He says as he turns to his golf bag and redeposits his club. "You want a drink before you get back to it? I got a pitcher of Suzie's lemonade cooling in the fridge under the work bench?"

"Wow. Lemonade." Carol actually seems to seriously consider that. It's not hard to imagine that - being the sort o woman Carol is - she probably hasn't considered anything as 'soft' as real lemonade in a long, long time. "Why the heck not? I'll bet it's amazing and awesome, just like everything Suzie-Q ever does. Woman is so perfect she makes my teeth ache, but she's a good egg." And with that, Carol goes in search of the glass so she can pour out some of that and see if it really is as perfect as she's expecting it to be.

"Well Suzie's good, but she can't cook kosher." Ben helpfully points out as he goes to the fridge beneath the work bench and opens it up revealing the pitcher and several stacked solo cups. Pouring one for Carol and one for himself, Ben's quick to play good host, "Here ya go Carol, drink up."

Carol sips slowly at the lemonade, and makes appropriate sounds of appreciation. "See? Damned near perfect, just as I would expect. And I'll bet she could cook kosher if she put her mind to it." Because Sue is a bloody genius on top of everything else. Truth is, Susan Richards is one of those rare women in the world that actually make Carol Danvers a bit jealous, because they manage all of the 'softer' stuff, while also being absolutely bloody amazing heroines. She works so hard to be a good heroine that most of that softer stuff gets left by the wayside. So those who manage both make her jealous. "So. I know you can't go up for it. But apparently the team is going to get together and elect a new leader. Funny thing is, I had some actually ask /me/ to run. Crazy, right?"

The Thing chuffs a bit and says, "Oh yeah, that's totally crazy. A former officer, special forces pilot, astronaught, CIA and S.H.I.E.L.D. operative, with more military experience than anyone on the team /except/ maybe the guy that was frozen in ice for almost 60 years? Yeah I can't imagine why they would be looking to you to lead them in the battles ahead." Ben is straight-faced as he says this, the irony and childing sarcasm apparant, as is his opinion on what kind of leader you would be. Before you have a chance to respond though Ben frowns, instantly self-concious that is words are gonna be misconstrued and almost meekly offers, "Yanno I'm being Sarcastic right? I think you'd be a great leader fer the Avengers. Ya know that right?"

Carol hems and haws a bit at Ben's commentary, but she can't really hold it in the face of his meek confession. All she can do is laugh and step forward, embracing the big pile of blue-eyed Thing. "Yeah, Ben. I knew you were being sarcastic. And thanks. I don't have a lot of confidence in myself sometimes. I appreciate the vote of faith." Frankly, there are few out there whose opinions she values as highly as she does Ben's. Steve's would be one. Mar-Vell's, if he were alive. It's a short damned list. "Anyway. They're going to take nominations and have a whole vote and stuff." And she still feels they ought to just find Steve and drag his star-spangled arse back into the hot seat. But the others think it's important to have a leader until they manage that.

So. There it is. It's a good thing that Ben can't blush. Be'd be turning several shades of scarlet by now. A bit suprised by the unepected by but not unwelcome hug, Ben wraps one arm lightly about Carol's shoulders and give's 'em a pat. A universal gesture of fondness. "Well fer whatever it's worth, if you're who they pick for the job I think they'll have a damned fine leader. I can totally hear you barkin' out 'Avenger's Assemble' next time the Kree show up jones for a fight." Ben smiles and nods, "And you've got plenty of friends that'll be there to offer and advice whenever you need it. Hell.. I'm sure Clint and Tony alone will offer a steady stream of 'advice' whether asked or no."

Carol can't help but snicker at that. "Quite possibly true." Clint can be that way, and Tony can't be any other way. It's that big brain of his, she supposes. "I appreciate the vote of confidence, Ben. Now, you take good care of yourself and the other three. I'm going to get back on my patrol route. And I'll let you know when this crazy thing comes to a vote." She knows Ben probably won't even vote, being part-time. But she also knows he'll want to be there, just to see it go down. "Good night." And off goes the blonde into the night sky.

And as Carol heads off into the night, Ben offers her retreating form a quick salute and says, "Keep flying Major Danvers. Keep flyin." As she goes he starts picking up his golfing gear, lest Suzie catch him, again and gives him a a good scolding

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