10432/A Day on the Slopes

A Day on the Slopes
Date of Scene:	14 December 2019
Location:	Ski Resort, Vermont
Synopsis:	Janet smokes Steve on the ski slopes of Stowe Mountain.
Cast of Characters:	Wasp (van Dyne), Captain America

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Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Like many wealthy aristocrats, Janet van Dyn enjoys skiing. And she's quite good at it! It helps to stay in the sort of luxury that would allow a spoiled billionaire to ride out even the most adverse of weather events.

A private plane to Vermont led to a short helicopter ride to Stowe Mountain Lodge. In short order the two of them hit the slopes, each carrying their skiing gear. Janet's equipment is the sort usually only owned by professional skiiers. She's donned white winter leggings and a heavy fur-lined parka in yellow, which matches her ski boots.

"Did you ever do much downhill skiing for fun?" Janet inquires of Steve. The two of them are queued up with a handful of other socialites enjoying the crisp winter air. "Or was it all cross-country alpine army guy stuff?" She shifts her skis from her right shoulder to her left. In a bizarre fit of independence, Janet wouldn't let anyone else carry her skis for her.

Captain America has posed:
In far darker if not equally warm and functional clothing, Steve crunches along in the powdery snow alongside Janet. His own skiis are carried easily enough on his shoulder. All but wisps of his blond hair hide beneath a knitted stocking hat pulled down over his ears.

"Cross-country alpine Army guy stuff," he echoes, lightly amused as he glances over at Janet. "Had to get from point A to point B as fast as possible without anybody noticing. Skis made a difference. Even if the Army wanted to claim the Jeeps could get anywhere, it wasn't the case, not during the winter." Inhaling delightedly, his breath ghosts out and evaporates in the bright sunlight shining down. He's glad for the goggles rested on his forehead; snow-blindness is a real risk -- or in his case, stress.

"Looking forward to seeing how you handle the downhill part. Figure you get going, what, about fifty miles an hour or so if you crouch down?" Uh oh: there's that adrenaline-lover's gleam in his true-blue eyes.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet grins up at Steve with the same fearless abandon. Designer sunglasses wrap around her face. "Is that a short joke, Captain?" She swings her skis around and 'accidentally' swats Steve on the rear with them. "If anyone's gonna be lagging, it'll be you. All that muscle, you're going to just sink right through the powder. Me, I glide along it like silk on skin."

She purses her lips and gets on tiptoe. "Whooosh," she breathes against his ear.

Janet giggles and skips ahead to the ready point, dropping her skis and stepping into them with a *clickclack* of the harnesses engaging. "You wanna take bets on who makes it to the bottom first?"

Captain America has posed:
"Oof." It's absolutely more a humoring sound than any real reaction to the pop of skis off his hind end. Steve even stumbles, just a little, as if he'd had trouble with the treads of his boots. When Janet tickles his ear with her exhale, he does laugh, the sound ringing out and off the trees. A jay takes off jeering, its shadow a lighter blue against the white snow as it dips away into the evergreens.

"Sure, we'll take bets. I bet you'll disappear into a snow drift 'nd need to be dug out because you think you're something like the Elves out of Tolkien's novels," he surmises with a grin. The Captain steps into his own skis and slips his goggles down over his eyes. Shifting his poles out from beneath his armpit, he then makes to poke Janet gently in the side with one. "Go on, I'll give you a head-start so I can see you sticking out of a pile of powder."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet yelps. "Oh, okay, how gallant," she tells Steve with a demure fluttering of her lashes. Something smouldering appears in her eyes and she leans against him. It's a little awkward with the skis and all, but Janet's fairly bendy.

"Maybe we can think of some kind of... arrangement when we're back at the lodge." Her hand wanders down his stomach and teases along his pelvis, just tickling the edge of his inner thigh. "You, me, naked on a fur rug in front of a roaring fire..."

Knees bend and she squats down on her skis, cheek brushing Steve's outer hip...

*CLACK*. Janet undoes one of his ski boots!

With a whoop, Janet propels herself rapidly forward, ski poles churning. "See you at the lodge, sucker!" she calls back over her shoulder, and cackles with mad delight.

Captain America has posed:
"Bwuh -- HEY!"

Of course Steve loses a ski pole while he stoops to try and click his boot back into place as fast as possible. CLICK: there it is. Rooting the pole out of the powder, he cusses to himself in Gaelic even as he kicks off hard enough to nearly send himself off-balance. Janet is already a good number of yards ahead of him, but the Captain crouches low for maximum aerodynamic form against his build.

"That's cheating!" he hollers ahead to her. The pink in his cheeks has little to do with the cold air, in the end.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
True to her word, Janet is fast. She doesn't have Steve's sheer momentum, of course, but the advantage of her light weight is that the fresh powder barely yields under her skis. She tucks down low with her poles under her arms to gain as much speed as possible, only once chancing a glance over her shoulder to see what Steve's progress is.

Janet crests a snowbank with a spray of icy powder in her wake. A whoop of delight echoes down the hillside with the altitude she gains, jumping a solid fifty feet down the hillside's incline. The landing isn't the prettiest thing in the world but she sticks it and hunkers low again.

Captain America has posed:
Even if the man is profoundly annoyed at her head start, he's not going to deny that the petite fashionista moves as a swallow across the expanse of white powder spreading before them. He takes a lazier arc around a growth of trees, his momentum steadily building and distance closing to Janet in her light blur of skill.

Steve too hits the same snowbank and his whoop of laughter echoes with an edge of surprise -- he became airbourne at a speed //far greater// than he was expecting! The wind whips around and past him in a brisk, chilling roar as he attemps to keep his form while the white-coated ground rushes up to meet him. He lands father down the hillside's slope than Janet, nearly hot on her heels (and thank god not on TOP of her), only to find his skis scooping out not only snow, but his balance!

It's quite the flailing, but Steve still ends up on his butt and gouges out a runnel in the snow. He grimaces and immediately founders out of it, having to dislodge what gathered up onto his lap and around his waist.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's flying along fearlessly and taking full advantage of her superior manueverability. Skis arrow to cut across a diagonal where the powder is fresher and less compacted. It's a little rougher and her skis jitter and bounce over asymmetrical patches and snowdrifts. But she continues to coast over the lighter snowfield, as if so light she's barely leaving tracks in her wake.

"C'mon slowpoke, keep up!" she yells back at Steve. Abruptly the hillside veers quite steep and Janet yelps in surprise. It forces her to cut into a few S-shaped patterns in the snow to slow her course down-- as it is, she bounces once, drags her butt through the snow for a second, and then is up and moving again with as much speed as she dares.

Captain America has posed:
"'m working on it!" he yells back at the retreating figure of Janet, who disappears over the far sharper incline now even as he's pushing off with his poles to regain his momentum. Hitting the lesser-touched path of snow rattles Steve's teeth together literally; he narrowly avoids accidentally biting his own tongue. The edge is welcomed with a sharp whoop and down he goes.

No slaloming pattern for him, not to slow him down, nope: he's a dark blur rapidly catching up on the fashionista's tracks now. Eyes narrow to slits behind his goggles as he tucks his own poles and then...

//SWISH// -- past he flies like a total lunatic as the snowfield opens up again, wide and full of deep pockets and equally accessible rampings of piled-up powder.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet screams in surprise, outrage, and amusement as Steve bullets past her. Arms churn and pump to get more momentum. Once again she dares to take the sharper slope rather than stick to the broader flats of hardpack.

A blur of white and yellow arrows past his course, close enough to his path to be alarming. Janet whoops and launches through the air over another hillock, and pins her ski poles in close while arrowing down a particularly treacherous drop with little regard for her safety. The ski lodge looms quite close-- it's neck and neck!

Captain America has posed:
Steve yelps at nearly being cut off by the sunshiney skier. One ski swings out, but sheer muscular force brings it back in before he's forced into a tumbling freefall starting with the splits. "Yer mad!?"

Maybe Janet hears it, maybe not. Either way, he cuts between the rolling hillocks of snow and enters his clear course, broadly in view of the lodge, his own speed nearly attaining that of a stooping falcon. It's neck and neck and utterly ridiculous, ludicrously dangerous for anyone not built to withstand a potential accident --

And then Steve's having to turn hard into his skis to stop himself from plowing into a lumpy pile of snow pushed off to one side to keep the lodge lawn mostly clear. His skis jitter and rattle with the force and he grimaces before he takes the last bit of the fall on his hip. In a semi-starred sliding swirl, he then bumps to a halt against the base of the pile on his butt.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet crosses the finish line and skids to a halt with a spray of snow. "Wooo!" she exclaims, claiming triumphant victory. Ski poles are held aloft, exultant. She twists this way and that to try and spot Steve, and sees him piled up against the snowdrift on the edge of the lawn.

"Are you okay?" she shouts over at him. Glee overrides concern. "Should I call for medical services? You're very old! You might have broken a hip!"

Janet cackles and steps out of her skis with a *clickclack*, and walks over to prop them against the lodge wall with the others in the avialable racks. A look of supreme satisfaction's written on her pixieish features.

Captain America has posed:
"If you'd been playing fair, you'd know the adage is age before beauty!" Steve shouts back as he gets to his feet. With a grunt or two, he finds his balance and then steps out of each ski with sharp clicks. One of the resident slope-minders still pays him a brief visit and after giving them a little smile, he assures them he's just fine, thanks for checking in on him -- it'll take more than that to slow him down.

Stooping, he picks up his skis and walks over, his goggles still down. "Been a while since I've done something like that. Pulled a stunt like it in the Alps when a HYDRA tank lost its tread 'nd started rolling down a hillside," he informs Janet as he leans his skis up against the lodge's wall as well. The goggles are plucked up and settled over his forehead.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Hey, if you ain't cheating, you're not playing hard enough," Janet reminds Steve. When he gets his skis put up, she reaches up to encircle her hands behind his neck and pops herself up to kiss him quite thoroughly. One knee rests against his hip for balance and support and then she slithers back down to the ground."

"What stunt? The part where you ran right into the snowback and wiped out?" Janet looks up at Steve with a wholly innocent expression, eyes blinking with the best feigned concern she can muster.

Captain America has posed:
Janet gets a hard squeeze of a hug against the Captain's taller, stronger frame for her sass.

"You try stopping on a dime when you're going fast enough to risk a broken neck 'nd let me know how that goes," he says tartly right back. "'nd I didn't have any of those molecules when the HYDRA tank was coming down the hillside end over end -- just my shield, so think about the physics of that 'nd then get on me about making sure I don't break a limb."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Ooff," Janet wheezes, and lands on her heels when releeased. "Fine, point taken. Are you gonna be pouty that you lost?" She outthrusts her lower lip at him, looks to where her fingers are toying with the lapel of his coat. "I mean, because we never did settle on a bet for first place," she adds, leaning pointedly against Steve and balancing a palm against his sternum. Her chin rests just below his collarbone, and she hits him again with that look of adoring supplication. "I could think of something to cheer you up," she fairly purrs. "But what-- /what/-- could I do to possibly take your mind off things?" she inquires with a vastly insincere consternation.

Captain America has posed:
Janet gets snorted at for her query about pouting. Him? Pout? Never. A wheat-gold brow lifts, immaculately wry in accompaniment by the barest hint of a smirk.

"What could you possibly do," Steve echoes thoughtfully, his voice sparkling with mocking innocence. "How about you placate my wounded feelings with a little hot cocoa 'nd some lunch before we bundle up in front of the fireplace? Bet there's a good book or two to read stashed away in the suite-rooms, maybe something good on TV."

Captain, thy name is deliberately obtuse.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Mm. Hot cocoa, warm fire, a little lunch... That sounds divine," Janet tells Steve. She beams up at him and hooks her arms around his forearm so she can lean against his shoulder while they walk. "Do you want to eat down in the cafe, or shall room service send something up? Maybe a nice seafood tower, I'm finding myself craving oysters and caviar," she informs Steve.

"Oh, and a bottle of champagne for after our cocoa. A nice Bollinger blanc," she proposes.

Something occurs to Janet-- she titters at the notion, then stands on her toes to tug Steve's ear closer so she can murmur into it. Once said, she winks floridly at him and hugs his arm once again.

Captain America has posed:
More than happy to lead the way out of the snow and into the lodge itself (because cold toes are even a thing for super-soldiers and Steve has had enough of that to last him several decades), he glances down at Janet on his arm.

"And a bottle of Bollinger blanc," he echoes, amenable to the prospect. He leans in when prompted to hear the suggestion whispered far beneath even sotto-voce and when he straightens, he clears his throat. Of course his ear-tips have gone pink beneath the stockig cap. His cheeks betray him now, but at least there's the brisk color of cold wind to cover the worst of the flush.

"I think that's an idea," he replies after a few more steps to reach the lodge's door, voice steady enough. Hollow thunks occur as he kicks the worst of the snow from his boots. "You head upstairs, I'll put in the order down here?"

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Okay. I'll make sure the fire's on," Janet assures Steve. She pops onto her tiptoes to kiss the underside of her jaw, and heads to the lobby elevator. It *dings* and the doors admit her inside. She turns on her toes, striking a model-ready pose, and rests her hands on her hips just above the hemline of her jacket.

"Don't take too long," she advises Steve, and winks floridly before the elevator doors close and shuttles her up to the penthouse suite.