The Seventh Avenger: Playing With Fire

Chapter 20: Diner Dates and Bar Fights

          Not wanting to freeze in the cool Tennessee air, Lydia allows Harley to lead her down the main street and towards the dinner right in the middle of all the other shops and restaurants, a glowing beacon in the snowy night. The streets are still surprisingly crowded this late at night, with people doing last-minute Christmas shopping and catching up with loved ones for dinner or drinks. The bustling atmosphere causes Lydia to tug the pink beanie down over her head, keep her head turned down and her eyes glued to the footpath beneath her feet. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of the coat that Harley had lent her in an effort to keep them warm, she follows Harvey hot on his heels, hoping that she doesn't accidently bump into anyone.

          "Are you sure that this is a good idea?" She asks Harley as they near the entrance to the diner. Her hesitance is enough to make the young boy pause in the middle of the street and turn to shoot her a questioning look.

         "What do you mean?"

          "Didn't you say that your Mom worked here? Don't you think that she might freak out if you showed up at her work at nine o'clock at night with an Avenger by your side?"

           "Oh. No, she doesn't work at this one – she works at Jerry's, four blocks over. As long as we don't go there, then we're fine."

          She takes him for his word and motions for him to move forward again. When he pulls the door back, she reaches over the top of his beanie-clad head and holds it open for him so that he can slip inside and escape the more than brisk breeze.

          The diner is large, but there thankfully aren't that many people in here. Two couples, an elderly man and two waitresses. It makes it easy for Lydia and Harley to silently slink through the rows of benches, red and silver tables and chairs, before quietly settling in a booth up in the back corner.

           Still cautious of the few other civilians in the café, Lydia keeps the beanie low over her head and zips her coat up so it's closed just below the chin. With nothing to hide, however, Harley openly tosses his scarf to the side and removes his hat to reveal his ruffled blonde waves beneath, leaning back on his side of the booth, perfectly relaxed.

         "Soooo," he drawls, an eager glint in his eyes. "Are we gonna talk about what the hell happened back there?"

           Wanting to do exactly not that, Lydia shrugs. "There's not much to discuss."

          The look that Harley shoots her exceeds one of incredulous. "Seriously? Mr Stark just had a freak-out in the middle of the street. I think there's definitely something to talk about."

          She lets out a weary sigh and allows her tired head to drop into the palms of her hands, elbows digging into the table. This kid is far too curious for his own good. "It's complicated, Harley."

         "He has PTSD, doesn't he?"

          Not just curious it seems – smart too.

          Knowing that the chances of Harley dropping the conversation altogether are slim to none, she decides that admitting the truth would be a less painful and tiring option. "Yes," she breathes against her palms. "He does."

          Peeking at the young boy through her slim fingers, she sees that he doesn't seem all that surprised by the news. He just slowly nods his head and lets out a small hum, eyes narrowed deep in thought. "It's 'cause of New York, isn't it?"

          She nods.

           "I mean, I guess that makes sense – he was totally fine until I brought it up." Guilt flashes across his face. "Sorry about that."