The Beginning of Hawk and Gwen's Story

New York City's fines for traffic violations aren't actually that steep.

But there's one thing that's different from the Eastern Kingdom.

Here, traffic violations are lumped in with minor offenses. Simply put, if you park illegally in the Eastern Kingdom, you might just pay a fine and lose some points, and that's it. But here, you have to take time out of your day to go to traffic court.

So...

As she restarted the car and drove toward LaGuardia Airport, Gwen was still relieved she'd gotten out just in time. Otherwise, she'd have had to take leave and sit through traffic court.

At the same time, she was a little puzzled.

"Weird. You can park right in front of the Manhattan courthouse, so why not in Queens?"

"..."

Hawk, sitting in the passenger seat, listened to Gwen muttering to herself. He thought for a moment, then asked curiously, "Even if you got a ticket, it'd be fine, right? Just tell Captain Stacy, and it should be okay."

Gwen snapped back to attention, glanced at Hawk, and shook her head.

"No."

"Uh..."

Hawk recalled the family ID card Gwen had shown the traffic cop.

Gwen seemed to read his mind and explained with a smile, "Using the family card is fine—everyone does it, and it's a perk the precinct gives to officers' families. But getting a summons is different. My dad would never call a friend at the courthouse over a parking ticket. He'd tell me, very seriously, 'Gwen, you should stand in court and bravely admit your mistake.'"

As she explained, Gwen mimicked the tone and expression of Captain George Stacy of the NYPD's 19th Precinct.

Hawk listened to her explanation and nodded in understanding.

He'd always thought Captain George Stacy was the rigid, by-the-book type who couldn't stand a speck of dust in his eye.

But hearing Gwen talk about him...

It didn't seem that way.

Sure enough.

Movies are always one-dimensional.

Forty-five minutes later.

Gwen drove to LaGuardia Airport.

Hawk unbuckled his seatbelt and thanked Gwen again as she parked the car.

Just as Hawk was about to open the door and get out, Gwen spoke up. "There's something I'm curious about, Hawk."

Hawk, who'd already pushed the door open, turned to look at her.

"What?"

"If I didn't accept your thanks, what would you do? Keep thanking me?"

"..."

Hawk was silenced by Gwen's question.

After a moment.

He looked at Gwen, who was smiling and genuinely seemed curious about the answer, and thought it over.

"Sorry?"

"..."

This time, Gwen was silent.

You don't accept my thanks, so you apologize?

...Well, okay then.

Gwen's smile widened. She looked at Hawk and said cheerfully, "You thank me too much. We're friends. Friends don't need to say thank you."

Friends?

Hawk was taken aback again.

Sure, his relationship with Gwen was a bit better than with the other students, but that was mainly because their physics classes overlapped, and they were practically deskmates in that subject.

But that was it.

Aside from physics class, he didn't have much contact with Gwen at school.

To be precise, he didn't have much contact with any student.

Still...

Hawk didn't argue with Gwen. He couldn't very well have her drive him back and then immediately say they weren't friends.

He had at least that much social awareness.

Soon.

Hawk watched the car do a U-turn right after he got out, hit the gas, and disappear from sight. He looked away and headed toward the temporary shelter.

That evening.

Manhattan.

Goreen Apartments.

Helen Stacy, wearing loungewear at home and sitting on the sofa watching the latest episode of Desperate Housewives, heard the door open and turned her head toward it.

Her eyes landed.

Captain George Stacy of the 19th Precinct, in a white shirt, tie, black suit, and a badge clipped to his waist, walked in from outside.

"You're back?"

"Yeah."

George grunted in reply, closed the door behind him, and looked at Helen on the sofa. "Where's Gwen?"

Helen glanced toward the stairs leading to the second floor.

"In her room."

"Oh."

George nodded, then headed upstairs. When he reached his daughter's bedroom, he knocked. "Gwen."

Gwen's voice came from inside. "It's not locked, Dad."

George pushed the door open.

Inside the room.

Gwen, also changed into a cute-style pajama set, her smooth blonde hair draped over her shoulders, sat cross-legged on a chair. She looked at George. "Dad, what's up?"

George stood at the doorway, not stepping into her room. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smile on his lips. "You skipped class this afternoon, didn't you."

Gwen froze for a second, then caught on.

She lowered her smooth legs from the chair and stood up.

"Someone contacted you?"

"What do you think."

George said with a grin. "They had to call and verify with me. Just in case someone was using a fake family ID card."

Not that it was likely.

But...

There's a saying in the Federation: you don't have to live, but you can't be boring. People pulling stunts with fake family cards weren't unheard of—just rare.

Still, since it involved law enforcement on the street, it wasn't polite to call and confirm face-to-face. So they'd just jot down the license plate and report it back at the station for verification.

If the card was real, no problem.

If it was fake, also no problem—they had the plate number, and that guy could expect a dozen tickets in a single day.

The NYPD would teach him that messing with them came with consequences.

Gwen was speechless at George's words. "Dad, I really didn't mean to park illegally. It's not like you can't park in front of the Manhattan courthouse."

George shrugged. "I don't care about your illegal parking. That's what the family card is for."

He wasn't that rigid.

The card could be used—just don't abuse it.

Gwen blinked at George's words.

"Then you..."

"But I am interested in why you went to the downtown courthouse this afternoon."

"Oh."

Gwen sat back down on her chair and picked up the book she'd been reading. "Nothing much. Just took a classmate to the courthouse to handle something."

George smiled.

"A male classmate?"

"..."

Gwen put down her book and looked at George standing in the doorway, her expression serious. "Dad, Hawk and I are just friends."

No, wait.

That guy seemed pretty resistant to even being called her friend.

Gwen thought to herself.

She remembered the stiff look that flashed across Hawk's face that afternoon when she said they were friends.