There was no stillness to the helicopter. Peter briefly wondered if they had the thing running simply so Walter couldn't blow it up.
The wind whipped about them wildly as he loaded the luggage into the aircraft, and at last Peter and Olivia stood together, wondering how to say goodbye, and why it seemed so difficult.
Peter looked over his shoulder at his father, standing beside the Vista Cruiser, shading his eyes as the helicopter blew about the fallen leaves. Peter swallowed, turning back to Olivia, "I guess I'll see you back in Boston in a few days," he called over the whir of the wind.
Olivia smiled, nodding, "Don't let anything happen, alright?" she said. He could see slight apprehension on her face, and he brushed his thumb over the crease of worry on her lip.
"Don't worry," he replied with a smile, "I'll get back in one piece, you'll see." her hand on his tightened, quaking slightly with fear, like if she released him, he would disappear. He chuckled, stooping to kiss her, and wrap her in his arms, "I promise."
At the Vista Cruiser, Walter turned away from the helicopter to give his son his privacy, busying himself with the antenna of the vehicle. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned.
Astrid pulled her hand away, looking slightly shocked at her own actions, "Um, see you back in Boston, Walter," she said, jamming her thumb over her shoulder at the aircraft, "so…see you around, I guess."
Watching her blankly, Walter nodded. Astrid smiled, and headed toward the helicopter, "Astrid," he called, and she nearly stumbled, turning on her heel.
"You- remembered?!" she stammered, blushing slightly.
Walter looked abashed, "Well, actually no. You see, I cheated, and…" he held up his hand, her name scrawled across his palm, "but do you think it still counts?"
Chuckling, Astrid returned to him, delving into her side bag to pull out a DVD. She pressed it into his hands with a smirk, "It's a start," she replied, kissing him and heading to the chopper.
Peter and Walter sat on the hood of the Cruiser and watched the aircraft rise from the grass and depart, and disappear over the trees. They were silent for a few minutes, before Walter asked, "So, did I win?"
"Hmm?" Peter questioned, breaking out of his own thoughts. Walter stuffed a handful of napkins and scraps of paper into his sons' hand.
"I got more numbers. So I win," Walter looked smug, "Thirty-seven. All real, go on and call them. You have to eat butterscotch pudding, now."
Peter blinked in bewilderment, looking through the mass, "Walter, where did you even find the time to get these?"
"Don't ask a master his secrets. Someday I may enlighten you of the secrets of the Bishop clan; for now, go fourth, and apprehend yourself a butterscotch pudding- I wish to watch you suffer." Walter swung his legs from the hood of the car, getting to his feet and moving to the off drivers' side.
Peter laughed, getting to his own feet, "The problem is that I like butterscotch pudding, crazy man."
"You say that now. But you will soon know of its horridness, and when you do, I alone will bask in the glory of utter victory."
Peter got into the car, buckling his seatbelt, "You know you're going to have to call of these woman back, right?"
Walter looked stricken, "…What?"
"The entire reason you get a woman's phone number is to call her, and go out."
Walter looked cynical, "You're joshing me. What a pointless hobby."
"Is there a point to anything you do?" Peter chuckled, starting the engine. Perhaps Boston wasn't as far away as he thought.