Re: Osborn Estate: Jason/Gwen/Bruce + Harry
Jason came to the manor dressed down, in deference to the burgeoning summer heat and not wanting to look too suspicious. In jeans and a t-shirt he could have been practically any 20-something with shaggy hair in need of a cut. He marked the guards, and how well armed they appeared to be. They might be mild mannered now, but if things went south, nobody would be able to say he didn't prepare for the worst. And in case of the worst, they were going to have quite the fight on their hands.
The house was massive. It reminded him of when he'd first come to the Wayne estate, gotten a real first-hand display of how the other half lived. He had the same visceral reaction to this ersatz castle that he had when he saw the manor, way back when: revulsion, mixed with grudging awe.
It was a strange situation in which to meet Bruce for the first time in person. He didn't recognize him, but he had a strong guess that the one guy not in a guard uniform at the gate had to be the one he was looking for. Bruce looked basically exactly how he'd guessed, rumpled, distracted, and wearing glasses. Connecting him with the giant green guy who nearly smashed Jason into a pulp of blood and bones was no short jump. It was also good to see him. The house and its guards didn't intimidate him, but Bruce's description of the situation had put him on edge. Gwen's helpful facts about her childhood friend murdering her hadn't helped much with that. Even putting aside the whole 'probably a supervillain' aspect of the situation, the thought of Gwen submitting to tests in a giant manor behind a locked gate made him uneasy. Nothing good ever came of anybody with powers letting themselves get experimented on, not in his experience, anyway. He wasn't sure how they'd made it this far without her dropping the whole mansion into the Atlantic ocean after a nightmare.
"Someone wanted to make a statement," Jason quipped to Bruce, looking up at the house. He was on the balls of his feet, and he could sound casual even if his body language said otherwise. He was quick to move, to turn and observe, and he was obviously sharp in his judgement of other people. The whole idea of 'street smarts' was staid and condescending. What he had was a healthy wariness of everybody, and a strong skill for reading unspoken signals and catching deception. He might not be able to read Gwen's test results - he'd leave that to Bruce - but he'd be able to tell if her buddy Harry or his daddy were lying. That much he could count on.
Getting into the house was a lot easier than he expected, but hearing the gate shut behind him made the set of his mouth just a little more grim. He stuck close to Banner on the approach to the house. It hadn't escaped his notice that if this place turned out to be bad news for Gwen, it would be bad news twice over for Bruce if anybody here knew what he could do.
He wasn't expect a cloud of blonde sweetness to slide into the hall to greet them with a giggle. He tucked his hands into his pockets and smiled at her, a little. He didn't mind kids. He got along with them pretty well, actually. They were easier to get along with than adults were, easier to understand and appease.
Something about the girl caught his eye, made him pause. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place why. It was like seeing a familiar actress, or spotting someone from your childhood on the street, a displaced, deja vu recognition. Where had he seen those eyes before?
Then Bruce called out Gwen's name, and Jason turned away. The girl had darted out of the door to their left, still hanging ajar, so he pushed it open. Here was the sitting room, the long windows, the remnants of a tea party, and Gwen.
Dead asleep. Jason glanced back to Bruce before moving toward Gwen. He knelt down next to the couch and put a hand on her arm. "Hey. Gwen."