A Rumble of Frost chapter 2

New York City, Burger Frog, February 10th 2001, 10:00 PM EDT

I  was almost drooling as I watched Gwen eat her burger, and it wasn't  because of the smell. She was savaging the damn thing like an animal,  and watching her tear it apart was absurdly hot. From the way she was  glaring at me, I could tell she was expecting me to make some sort of  comment about it, but I just watched until she finished, shoveling down  my own food in the process. Once she finished, she licked her fingers  and raised an eyebrow in challenge. "What? Surprised I don't eat like a  lady?"

"You." I said in awe.  "Are so fucking hot right now." Her eyes went wide, jaw dropping a bit  in an expression of surprise so off brand for her 'seen-it-all bad  bitch' aesthetic that I couldn't help but start laughing. Then I  realized I'd probably been somewhat creepy just than and scratched the  back of my head sheepishly. "Fuck, did I say that out loud?" Ignore  that. I'm glad you liked the burger." I hesitated for a second.  "You...want another one?"

I  still had all my fries and another burger to get through, and watching  her demolish that was almost as good as porn. I held it out to her and  she snatched it from me with a suspicious look before going to town on  the second one. Fuck yes. Realizing that watching her pound down a half  pound of meat and bread like it was a gangbang in progress was probably  really weird, I cleared my throat, deciding to say something witty.  "So...you do stuff?"

Jesus  Billy. What the fuck? Apparently all the blood had fled my brain. She  actually had to stop eating as she choked out a laugh, finally putting  down the burger as she coughed to clear her airway. "Holy shit. Did you  actually just ask me that?" I winced and she actually giggled, which I  counted as a win. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just sound like a  stroke victim and answer the question a normal person would ask. If you  want to know what I do for fun, I'm an artist. I also shit kick  obnoxious jocks. I'm getting a strong jock vibe from you."

I  smirked at that, back on much firmer territory. I could do banter.  "Hey, that's offensive. I'm way more obnoxious than I am jock-like." She  snorted at that so I continued. "As mentioned, I'm new in town, and  broke as fuck. I moved here from Chicago to get away from my mom, who  thinks she should run my life." I grimaced. "I...may have less  experience dealing with money than I had expected. My mom was apparently  kind of well of and I never realized how much easier that made things  for me."

There  was no reason to admit that to her honestly, but it wasn't like I had a  reason to lie. Besides, I liked talking to Gwen. Aside from being  smoking hot, she was funny, and kind of a bitch. I didn't need a  psychiatrist to tell me why bitchy blonde women were my comfort zone  thank you very much, but they were. Even if this one was kind of  throwing off my game. I wasn't used to talking to girls who didn't fall  all over themselves to impress me. I was huge, good looking, and  stupidly rich, all of which were kind of panty droppers. I was far from a  virgin, but I was starting to realize I'd kind of been playing on easy  mode.

Oh she  was interested, no doubt. Her eyes had been raking over me. But I wasn't  'William Frost' to her. I was Billy, the big, admittedly sexy, random  guy who didn't have a place to sleep. It felt kind of nice. Making my  own first impression like this. Weirdly, when I mentioned my mom, she  kind of tensed up, but then her expression softened. "Mom troubles. I  get that. Mine was kind of an asshole before she skipped town. Well, I  can't exactly give you a place to crash, I'm not inviting some seven  foot tall guy home with me the first night I meet him. I'm a badass, not  a fucking idiot. But...I might have some ideas for job options."

That  was a pleasant surprise. I popped the top on my chocolate shake,  dipping some fries into it, and then pushed one of the three fry boxes  over to her with an eye roll when I saw her eyeing it. She grabbed a  few, dipped them in the shake, and moaned a bit at the first bite. I  snickered at that, drawing an actual blush from her, which I decided was  worth my weight in gold. "That would definitely be a help." I said with  feigned casualness. I was planning to fuck up some criminals for the  money, but rolling drug dealers would require me to FIND some, and a day  job wouldn't hurt between scores.

It  was her turn to clear her throat, pretending she hadn't had just moaned  like a porn star at her first bite of hot fries and cold shake. I got  that, it was one of my favorite combos. "Right." She said, trying to  sound businesslike. "Well, it's Saturday night, hence me being out like  this, so a lot of places will be closed tomorrow. For immediate job  prospects, I hear the Daily Bugle is looking for photographers. You know  anything about cameras?" I shrugged, because not really, and she rolled  her eyes. "Why am I not surprised. Though points for not trying to spin  that question into some reference to seeing me naked, you would be  surprised how often guys do that."

My  willpower was severely tested at that comment, because I had to fight  not to glance down at her tits, which contrary to my earlier ribbing  were nice perky hand fulls, but as a badass warrior, I managed to resist  the urge to look, instead focusing on forcing out a response. "I don't  really know much about taking pictures. My skill set is basically  beating the shit out of people and lifting heavy things. I can do both  at once too, as long as you don't expect me to chew any bubblegum." She  smirked a bit at that. "Still, it can't be that hard right? You point  the lens at something and press the button."

Rolling  her eyes and eating more fries, Gwen sneered at me. "I'm going to  pretend you didn't just try to boil down a form of artistic expression  to something a monkey can do, because I was just starting to like you."  She reached down under the table and grabbed a black purse shaped like a  coffin, studded with small metal spikes. She popped the thing open,  flipping through it, and then pulled out a small silver digital camera.  "You're lucky I have an interest in photography and a soft spot for  giant idiots. This is my back up camera. I'm willing to lend it to you,  if you break it, I'm going to kick your ass, even if I need to find a  step stool. Understood?"

"That..."  I trailed off, stunned. "I don't know why you would do that for me. We  like...just met." At her raised eyebrow I gingerly took the camera. "I  mean, thank you, obviously. But isn't giving this to someone you don't  know kind of...crazy?" I wasn't sure what her game was here. This was  crazy generous. Like...way more than I would expect from a stranger. To  the point that I was mildly suspicious of it. But I also couldn't see  the point of some cute little blonde trying to fuck me over. There was  just no real upside for her.

She  seemed weirdly embarrassed by the comment, rather than offended, and  just gave a shrug of feigned nonchalance. "Don't read too much into it,  ok? I just don't want to see some big moron end up in jail for vagrancy  if I could have stopped it. My dad is a cop, and the last thing I need  is him trying to arrest your gargantuan ass because you're sleeping in  an alley or something. This is just...like a public service." She was  definitely blushing now. She pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled a  few things. "This is my number, and this is the address for the Bugle."  She shoved it toward me with a glare. "You'd BETTER call me and give me  my fucking camera back when you can afford your own."

I  held both hands up placatingly. "Hey, trust me. I'm not going to screw  over the first person to cut me a break here. I owe you one." I meant it  too. Gwen had stuck her neck out for me, and I wasn't going to forget  it. I was the kind of person it was nice to have owe you a favor. At  least I had been, and would be again. This girl wasn't going to regret  giving me a hand here. I'd buy her another camera to go with this one.  Something fucking fancy too. Girls liked presents, even self proclaimed  badasses.

She  stood up abruptly, grabbing the rest of the fries and the chocolate  shake. "Anyway, it's getting late, even for a Saturday, my dad is going  to want me home." She glanced at the paper. "That's my cell number.  You...you don't need to wait until you can afford a new camera to call.  Since I was the one who told you about the interview, I guess you can  call me tomorrow to tell me how it went. Later." Then she turned and  stomped away gruffly, her thick combat boots smacking the ground  decisively as she left.

"Wow."  Said an awed voice from beside me. I didn't jump because I was way  better trained than that, but I noted that I'd been staring hard at her  ass and missed Peter sitting down. "That was...like watching someone  tame a dragon or something. Holy shit, man. That was GWEN STACY.  Like...I've talked to her a few times, but she's basically made of  barbed wire. I can't believe you got her number." He shot me a goofy  grin. "Teach me your ways?"

I  snorted, taking a long pull off my strawberry shake. "Eat your wheaties  and grow a few inches, man. Chicks dig guys who can reach the top  shelf." He flipped me off with a snort. "Guessing your shift just  ended?" He nodded, stealing some of my fries, and I considered growling  at him before remembering he'd used his discount to get me the food. I  gave him an 'I'm watching you' glare, getting a smirk in return, and  held up the paper. "So, I don't suppose you can show me where the hell  the Daily Bugle is?"

He  raised an eyebrow. "Wow. You ARE new in town. Sure, I was planning to  interview for one of the photographer spots too. They always need new  freelance guys. I can show you the way there." He held out his hand,  curious about the camera. I passed it to him carefully, and he looked it  over with a whistle. "Canon S110. Hell of a backup model. Didn't know  Gwen's family pulled in this kind of cash. I knew her dad was a cop, but  he must be pretty high up." He passed it back. "Tell you what, why  don't you meet me tomorrow morning and I can show you how to use that  before we go in to the Bugle?"

That  was the second person who was offering to help me out from the goodness  of their heart. New York was turning out to be much friendlier than I  expected, not that I thought either of these two were normal. Still, I'd  be an idiot to turn down free photography lessons from someone who it  kind of seemed was a camera nerd. I nodded, holding out a hand to shake.  "Sure man, we can meet back up here tomorrow at like ten. That work for  you? Paper says they hold the interviews starting at noon."

Taking  my hand, he gave it a tight shake, then let go and popped to his feet.  "Sounds like a plan. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home to pass  out. I'm exhausted. See you tomorrow Billy." With more grace than I  expected from a little nerdy guy he turned and strolled out of the  Burger Frog. Stuffing the camera and paper into the pockets of my coat  and wolfing down the fries, I turned and walked out of the fast food  joint, heading back the way I'd come toward my warehouse hideout,  finishing my last strawberry shake and taking the vanilla with me.

I  wasn't sure what I'd expected when I came out tonight, but it hadn't  been this. New York had been...nicer than I'd expected so far. I'd met  good people, one of whom was an absolute bombshell, and I had a good  meal and a lead on a job. This wasn't exactly what I'd expected when I  came here, but it wasn't bad either. I was taking steps, making moves to  get to the place I wanted to be here. It wasn't exactly lightning  speed, but I wasn't in a rush. It wasn't like crime was going to up and  vanish tomorrow.

I  raised a fist in front of me, concentrating on my power, and a glowing  white sphere of concentrated energy flickered into existence for a split  second before I let it disperse. A hypocenter was too eyecatching to  keep going for more than a second, but seeing my power manifest always  calmed me when I was feeling uncertain. No matter how big of a curveball  life threw me, this fist was a constant. My own strength would prevail.  I finished the shake, tossing it into a half full trashcan I passed,  and picked up the pace.

I  made it back to the warehouse and laid down on the palettes, I was  tired, not physically, my power afforded me a level of native physical  endurance even outside of my ability to create vibrations and  shockwaves. It was part of what made me so dense for my size and so much  stronger than a normal person. It carried over to things like sleep,  but I still felt mental exhaustion, and it had been a pretty big fucking  day.

As I  closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep I considered for the first time  what my life was going to be like here outside creating my new group.  Not the crime fighting, or the establishing of reputation, but just...my  day to day. I imagined chilling with Peter and playing video games, or  taking Gwen out for another burger. Maybe there were more benefits to  being out from my mom's thumb than I had expected. I hadn't exactly come  to New York expecting to make normal friends, but I didn't exactly hate  the idea. I was pretty sure I was going to like it here.