When Howard Met Nova
Howard the Duck flirts with Nova Prime in a bar more or less. Characters belong to Marvel. Story is mine.
Howard sat in the Lunar Sans cocktail lounge waiting on his dirty martini. It was an over priced joint, with over priced liquor and filled to the gills with over stuffed bureaucrats. They were the sort of folks who would try to hide as much of their own dirt as they could, thus making his beverage of choice the most honest thing in the entire place. "If any of them has a scanner on 'em I'm going to have to answer for those parking tickets," mused the duck.
His gaze floated about the bar finally landing on a more mature looking blonde woman who seemed terribly uncomfortable with being there and looking for an excuse to leave. Perhaps she'd been stood up. Perhaps this just wasn't her scene. In either case she was ready to leave. As Howard made the observation he felt his drink slide against his elbow. He took it and deftly downed it, olives toothpick and all in one fell swallow before making his way to the blonde.
"Hey you have to pay for that," called the bartender.
"Believe me, I will tomorrow," replied Howard.
Howard adjusted his suspenders, slicked back his feathers and sidled up next to the blonde, "Not your scene hm?"
She looked over at the duck blinking a bit in surprise that a water fowl would be so forward, "Excuse me," she said surprised to be speaking to a duck.
Howard shrugged, "The bar scene. It's not every dame's cup of coffee but, it can be a nice way to get socially lubricated and meet new and interesting folks."
"Like you I take it."
"I'm Howard and you are," he asked awaiting her name.
"Nova. Nova Prime."
"You sure are. Prime that is."
Nova blinked, "Now hold on."
"What?"
"Well," started Nova taken aback, "Nobody ever speaks to me that way."
Howard pulled up a chair and sat next to her, "Look you're classy. I get it. Heck I've been cooped up in a box since the 1980s so if I'm a bit," he paused, "rusty I apologize."
Nova blinked unsure of what to make of it. He certainly didn't seem that old. It had been awhile since anyone had even spoken to her without a, "Yes ma'am," attached to it. Yet, somehow in spite of herself it was kind of fun. "Well Howard, you're right. This isn't my scene. What would you propose I or we do about that?"
Howard smirked at the question, "That we blow this joint and make a night of it."
"How would we do that?"
"Well," started Howard, "I have a bottle of Chartreuse, the liqueur that was so tasty they named the color after it, in the back of my ride. Plus I do know all of the best views in the city, especially since I'm looking at one of them."
Nova blushed and looked away, "Is that how you speak to someone of the political class?"
Howard pulled her close. Her eyes were full of surprise as he gazed into them seductively, "Baby, when you fly with Howard, you always fly first class."
End.