Disclaimer: yadda yadda yadda…you know the drill.

Author's Note: I usually don't make a habit of writing these but I have been just so impressed and touched by the reviews. Thank you doesn't even begin to express my gratitude.

I have never been to Central Park so all the info I gathered about the Conservatory Garden I got from a website for Central Park. Also, this chapter needs a fluff warning. I usually don't devote an entire chapter to fluff…sigh

Free Fall

Chapter Five: Saturday in the Park with Harry

Kenzie had managed to sleep for over four hours before the nausea hit her again. She tried eating crackers, drinking ginger ale and all the other remedies Doris told her about when she got this sick but it didn't help at all. The next four hours were spent with her getting better acquainted with toilet. This was clearly not the way to start a weekend. Especially one where she actually had plans.

By 10:30 she had given up all of hope of eating something and keeping it down. This didn't bode well for her lunch meeting with Harry but she would just have to take it as it came. She turned her attentions on her clothes and wondered what in the world could she wear? Most of her style tended to be on the causal side: jeans, t-shirts, and sneakers. Maybe…

She went into the spare bedroom and opened the closet door. Stacks of boxes filled up the entire closet. This was where she kept all her mother's things after she had died. Clothes, pictures, jewelry, anything that had meant something to her mom, she had packed up. Kenzie found the box marked "clothes" and pulled it out of the closet. Inside were the crinkled skirts that her mother used to wear all the time. She picked one that would match the T-shirt she was already wearing.

Kenzie was never one for make-up but she figured a little bit wouldn't hurt. She especially needed to hide the dark rings under her eyes. She ended up braiding her hair in a loose plait and slipping on her well-worn flip flops. She still looked like a bohemian artist from Avenue A but she hoped that at least she looked like a nice bohemian artist.

The last thing she put on was her mother's silver locket. Her mother had saved money to buy this trinket but when she was diagnosed with her cancer, she threw caution to the wind and bought it anyway. She wore it from the day she was diagnosed to the die she died. She claimed it brought her strength and reminded her to never throw away today for a tomorrow that might not come. Kenzie opened it and found the picture of her mom staring up at her. Her mother had actually put a picture of Kenzie in there but Kenzie had switched it after her mother's death.

"Well, here we go, Mom. Wish me luck!"

She could almost hear her mom's voice repeating the statement she had said the night of Kenzie's prom: "Be good. And if you can't be good, be careful." Kenzie had nearly died of embarrassment, and so had her date, but that was her mom for her. She smiled at the memory before closing the locket and heading out the door. The first good sign of the day was the first time she hailed a cab it stopped.

Harry waited at the corner of Fifth Avenue and 105th Street. The entrance gate to the Conservatory Garden was just a few feet away and the scent of flowers had drifted up to the busy street. Having lived in New York his entire life, he knew Central Park like the back of his hand. However, he usually spent his time on the wide open lawn where touch football would be played, or soccer. He even joined in on a game rugby one day.

The Conservatory Garden he didn't know that well but he thought it would be the best place to take Kenzie. She had looked so tired yesterday and one of the effects of chemo was nausea. He figured they could walk if she felt up to it or if she didn't there were plenty of places to sit. If she was hungry, there was a café just across the street from the entrance.

Just when he started to feel he had every possibility planned out, doubts started to rise up in his mind. What if she didn't like flowers? What if the scent made her sick? What if she was too sick to show up? He pulled out his cell phone and checked the time. 12:08. There were no messages on the phone. Maybe she wasn't going to show up at all.

A yellow cab pulled up to the curb and Kenzie jumped out of the back of the car. She ducked her head back into the cab and looked like she was giving directions to the cabbie before walking over to him. "Sorry I'm late. The cabbie was new to the city. I had to give him directions to here."

Relieved she had come, he smiled. "I hope he gave you a discount."

"A slight one."

He pointed across the street. "Do you want anything to eat before we head into the gardens?"

"Uh, not right now, if that's okay."

He noticed she didn't even turn around to see the café and judging from the strained look on her face, along with the washed out pallor of her skin, he guessed she had had a rough morning. "Just let me know if you want anything later then."

She nodded and some of the tension left her face. It helped her look not so sick. She still had those dark smudges under her eyes and just an all-around sense of fatigue to her posture. But in spite of that, there was just something about her that made her appealing and he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Shall we go?" she asked. "The Vanderbilt Gate awaits."

Harry had no idea what she was talking about. "The what?"

"The Vanderbilt Gate. That's the entrance into the gardens."

He had never heard that before now. "Why do they call it that?"

She grinned and started to walk towards the entrance. "It's called that because it was the original entrance to the Vanderbilt Mansion when it was still standing where Bergdorf Goodman department store is now."

He watched her lay a long-fingered hand on the metal gate as they passed through it. She touched it with such reverence, he found himself holding his breath as he passed through it.

"This gate is known for being one of the best examples of wrought iron work in the city. It was originally made in France but an American architect, George B. Post, designed it."

"How do you know so much?"

Kenzie shrugged. "I like history, especially the history of places I like to frequent."

Harry's good mood faltered somewhat. "You've been here before?"

Kenzie let out a small laugh. "Oh, yeah. It's one of my favorite places to go. I was really excited when you mentioned it."

That made him feel a little bit better. "So, am I going to have to pay you for being my personal tour guide?"

"Depends on how many questions you ask me."

"How many questions am I allowed before you start charging?"

She acted like she was thinking about it. "I'm going to say five. Just remember, you used up one already with the Vanderbilt Gate."

He couldn't help but smile at her easy-going manner and joking nature. He soon found his nervousness was dissipating. He did know that the garden was divided up into three different styles of gardens. If his memory served correctly, the one they were walking through now was based on a French style. The second one was the Italian and the third was the English. He could hear the fountain that was located at the center of French garden and soon it came into view.

"Since you knew so much about the gate," he asked, pointing to the statue of three women in the middle of the fountain, "what do you know about this fountain?"

She raised her eyebrows in a semi-arrogant look. "Well, it has two names. The most common is 'Three Dancing Maidens' while the less commonly known name is the 'Untermeyer Fountain.' Those who use that name are usually referring to the family who gave it to the city. It was constructed in 1910 by a famous German sculptor by the name of Walter Schott."

"I'm impressed."

She flipped her braid over her shoulder and stared at the ground. "It's just useless facts. I'm probably just convincing you what a nerd I really am."

"You've met Peter Parker, right?"

She laughed slightly. "He doesn't seem that nerdy."

"You should have seen him in high school."

"Were we ever at our best in high school?"

Harry thought about that statement and had to admit, yes, that was when he was at his best. He had long since given up trying to get his father's appreciation and love. He had made friends with Peter and Mary Jane. That was the one time in his life when he felt the ground was solid under his feet and things were in his control.

"Harry? Are you alright?"

He looked down and saw she had laid a hand on his arm. He couldn't remember the last time he had been touched. Actually he could remember and could still feel those metallic arms closing around his arms and ankle. He tried to shake off that unpleasant memory and smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just remembering high school."

They both laughed but he hoped she didn't notice how forced his was. He took a gamble and caught her hand in his. She made no move to pull away so he tightened his grip slightly.

"We should come back sometime later on this fall," she said, grinning up at him. "I love seeing the Korean chrysanthemums in bloom and usually there's over 2,000 of them. They're just beautiful."

And that when he realized just what made her so appealing to him, and others no doubt. She looked sick from the outside but there were times when the real person inside shone through so brightly, all traces of her illness faded from view. She really was beautiful, in her personality, character and strengths. And that humbled him.

"Well," he said, "I guess I'll just have to bring you back later on then."

They had walked through all three sections of the gardens and Harry had gotten in two more questions (why was it named a conservatory garden and who were the two kids pictured in the fountain in the English garden) which brought his total up four questions. He had noticed that Kenzie was starting to look very tired and suggested they find a bench in the shade. No sooner had they sat down, then Kenzie's eyes closed.

Harry had been thinking about a fifth question as he gazed at the bronze statue in the English garden when he felt Kenzie's head hit his shoulder. He looked down and found her sound asleep, using his shoulder as her personal pillow. His first instinct was to wake her up but then he realized what kind of fatigue she must have been fighting to fall asleep that fast and that deep.

He settled himself in a more comfortable position and started to fall asleep himself when a bright flash of light startled him awake. He looked around everywhere but couldn't figure out where it had come from. Unfortunately, it was either that light or his sudden movement that woke Kenzie up as well.

"Sorry," Harry said, sitting up. At first he thought Kenzie had gotten a sunburn but then he realized they had been in the shade the entire time. Then he realized she was blushing. "What's the matter?"

"I, uh, I didn't mean to, you know."

"Fall asleep?"

She groaned and sat down on the bench a couple inches away from him. "I hate this! Every time I turn around I fall asleep."

"It's fine."

"You must think I'm most boring person in the world."

"No, not in the least."

"Argh," she dropped her head into her hands. Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too broadly. She had to be the most adorable girl he had come across. Then the unexpected happened: her stomach let out a voracious rumble.

Harry patted her shoulder gently. "It sounds like you could use something to eat now."

Kenzie stretched her legs out in front of her. They had ended up at the café he had originally pointed out and she was thankful that it seemed like it would stay down. She had already fallen asleep on the poor guy, she didn't want to end the evening by throwing up in front of him. He really didn't seem to mind her impromptu nap, having taken it all in stride.

The sun was starting to dip below the skyline and the bustle of the city still hadn't slowed. This was what she loved about the city, it never slept. It was immortal, unlike her. She frowned slightly. The city would continue to thrive, stay on it's cycle after she was gone. The doctor's remained hopeful that the tumor could be removed after it shrunk a little. But there was something inside of her that told her different.

"What are you thinking about?"

She turned to face her dinner companion. Harry sat across from her at the iron table that was sitting on the sidewalk. The sun was hitting his hair just right, picking up all the red in what she thought was brown hair. She was still wondering why he had chosen to spend his Saturday with her. He was very handsome and rich, surely he had girls standing in line, just waiting for him to look their way.

"Why me?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Why did you ask me out? I don't have any qualities that any guy in their right mind would want."

"Of course you do," he laughed incredulously. "You're smart and funny."

"I'm dying."

"You're not dead yet."

Kenzie fingered her locket. "You're right."

"So," he picked up his coffee mug, "since you're not dead, and you are smart, funny and pretty, would you like to get together tomorrow?" Then his confidence seemed to falter which Kenzie thought was very endearing. "If you're not busy, that is."

"Actually," she laid her hands flat on the table. "I spoke with Peter and Mary Jane last night. They invited me over to his Aunt's place for dinner."

"Oh, well that'll be nice."

"They told me you're more than welcome to come too."

He shrugged his shoulders then hunched them. Kenzie felt an excuse coming up and reached out to take his hand this time.

"You can come pick me up at my place and we'll head over together. How's that?"

He seemed to study her hand for a moment before nodding his head. "Alright. I'll come."

Long after Kenzie had gone to bed, the early morning Sunday newspapers were distributed throughout the city. Stacks of papers were dropped off at every newsstand from uptown to downtown. Every seasoned newsstand owner couldn't help but read the front page article on the Daily Bugle.

The front page was a full picture of two people fast asleep on a park bench. The bold headline read: "Saturday in the Park with Harry." In smaller print underneath the headline was printed: "Who is the mystery girl seen with the young head of OsCorp? Details inside."

And Eddie Brock had his first paycheck in his pocket from being in the right place at the right time.