A Good Hot Chocolate
The two men sit in the corner of Carries Cafe.
The place is busy. A gentle cacophony of chatter and clatter cascades around them. Aromas abound, most of them pleasant.
Both are drinking rather excellent hot chocolates.
The conversation seems friendly as we join them.
"Lois doing OK I hope, I haven't seen her for, what seems like ages" Dr Banner was asking, relaxed in brown cords and an open collared dark green polo shirt.
The immaculately attired Mr Kent replies "Yes thanks, she's fine, asked me to say hello, and yes, it has been a while" He is in dark trousers and crisp white short sleeved shirt. A tight neat tie completes. He is thinking now, about his wife. She did not want him to come.
They both raise their mugs to take a sip of the steaming chocolate. Each glancing occasionally towards the other man. They have a history. They are also though, fully appreciative of what really is an exceedingly good hot chocolate.
Nodding his approval at it, the doctor speaks
"So what, after all this time, do I owe the honour?"
"We need to talk about your friend."
A direct look now connects them.
"What about him"
"I think you can hazard a guess"
"I can hazard a few, none of them useful"
"Try harder," when he gets no more response than the stare already there Kent softly states "Something needs to be done"
"You mean a cure?" Banner asks teasingly.
"One way or the other"
"A direct threat Mr Kent?"
"A promise Dr Banner"
Banner leans forward, takes another sip of his now, merely warm chocolate. It is still good.
"My friend doesn't like being threatened Mr Kent he doesn't like it at all. Things he doesn't like make him kinda mad" A self mocking smile, supplements the statement. He drains the remains of his drink in one soothing swallow and places the stained, still slightly steaming mug down on the the table between them.
"I think I'm aware of that" Kent declares.
"So why threaten him"
"Something has to be done, he's a loose cannon. A very dangerous and very loose cannon." He pauses "Too dangerous to be left to his own devices"
"He certainly is" Dr Banner's intent and meaning are obvious. The man sitting opposite smiles though, lounges back, "But not impossibly so" He says.
"You think?"
"I do."
"My friend is inclined to think differently."
"Your friend isn't renowned for his thinking process" this is said with a gentle smirk.
"You would be wiser not to underestimate him in any capacity"
"I assure you I don't."
"And still, you are confident."
"I am."
Dr Banner leans back unconsciously or otherwise mirroring the other man's relaxed pose.
He looks at his empty cup, stretches out a hand, idly plays with the handle, finger tracing a loop around its surprisingly sensual curve.
He looks up, face sad. And hard.
"Don't be."
Mr Kent sighs slightly theatrically as he too leans forward before starting to get to his feet, chair scraping over the floor as he pushes it back. He stretches for his own mug before, with one smooth single movement it too is emptied and placed back upon the table. "See you in a minute" He says then he turns and heads for the back of the room where the toilets are hidden from casual view.
The sitting man watches the subtly large man move gracefully through the tables and people until he rounds the corner. His fingers leave the cup and nestle within the other hand, he looks down at the entwined digits, takes a deep breath, blinks slowly. He looks up and out the window. As expected Mr Kent is now outside looking in. Once again, the doctor is surprised by how different he is. Gone is the suit, the tie, mild demeanour, glasses and diffident nature. Standing poised and proud and powerful, he is like a God. He may even be one.
"Well" Dr Banner says quietly to himself, "I've a God of my own" He pushes back his own chair. Threading his way through other tables he goes to meet this godlike being waiting for his friend to show. He pushes the door open and steps out onto the pavement.
The sun beats bright and hot, the breeze is cool.
It is a beautiful day.
He hears the door close with a click behind him.
His erstwhile drinking companion stands still, facing him.
They both pause staring, then charge. With a monstrous crashing roar The Hulk and Superman collide.