16313/It's My Party and I'll Shoot If I Want To

It's My Party and I'll Shoot If I Want To
Date of Scene:	28 May 2024
Location:	Converted Safehouse, Brooklyn
Synopsis:	Natasha doesn't like this definition of a Party either.
Cast of Characters:	Phobos, Black Widow (Romanoff)

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Phobos has posed:
    It is curious what counts as a crisis in the lives of two Agents from SHIELD.

    It wasn't really as bad as it could have been. Wasn't like an attack kill squad of Hydra agents with an assassination order. It wasn't like an alien assault swooping down from on high. Really... it was just a party. That was due to start tomorrow. At their house. Their safehouse house. So it was important to deal with the issues before that. Though in the safehouse house, there was some discussion as to what those issues might be.
    "So... ultimately, for now, it doesn't matter who is to blame." Alexander, Olympian extraordinaire, sat on the edge of the couch in his sweat shorts and t-shirt, gesturing with both hands, "More just matters that we get set up for the inevitable."
    His lips twist up, "And that means going out for supplies. Which does not mean more ammo."

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"Of course not."

And for a half a second, he might have hope. Then she continued.

"We have plenty upstairs in the attic."

To say Natasha was not thrilled at the idea of a party was an understatement. She was standing between the couch and the bar separating living area from kitchen. Her arms were crossed and she might be pouting. But no, that can't be. Because the infamous Black Widow wouldn't ever pout! It just had to be a very stylistic frown. She was dressed down herself. Yoga pants, tank top, bare feet. She glanced around the room then back to Alexander.

"I should've kept the penthouse. We could've had it there. Brought in caterers. The whole thing." Because bringing in caterers here was not something she was willing to do. This was their safe space. Their private little haven away from the world. And it was about to be invaded. Maybe they did need more ammo.

She used to have a fancy penthouse that she'd lived in sometimes. It was part of her cover in the past and she'd just hung onto it. But about six months ago, she finally sublet it. It added to their financials in a lovely way but it also meant she had lost that place for such moments as this.

"We can just leave. Fly off to Aruba?" She looked so hopeful.

Phobos has posed:
    It was Alexander who had in part advocated for the vacating of the penthouse, so when she mentioned it he sort of gave a grudging nod as he chewed his lower lip then he said to her, "Yah, seriously, you should've kept the pentthouse. What were you thinking?" His last words there hinting at exasperation, though his smile was a little apologetic since he knew... totally his fault.
    He took a deep breath and gestured to the side, "We can leave, but you know there'd be... repercussions. Some people would see it as an... evasion of social obligations." He stands up and steps toward her, resting a hand on her shoulder, "We can get through this."
    Then the planning side of his mind starts to take over, "Just split it up into a few things that need to get done. Not that the place is a mess, but... reckon we need to clean some. Need to get supplies. What else?"

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"I have no idea how many might show up. The active roster isn't that big but it still could be non active showing up. Then their plus one for each. I figure maybe ten to twenty people?" She looked around the room as she thought about it.

"I suggest downstairs." They kept the downstairs looking like any nice house. Only, they didn't live down there at all. It was just for show. They lived on the second floor which had everything they needed. Downstairs had a couple of rooms that could be considered a living room and parlor. A bathroom. Even a smallish kitchen that hadn't been really remodeled so had that old school charm but with newer appliances. After all, their main kitchen was up here so they hadn't worried about it. The third floor was a complete attic filled with lots of boxes and storage, which had once been in the main areas of the house. It was also where the main armory was setup because of course they had one of those.

"Attic is off limits. We padlock it if necessary or board it up. I don't trust them not to get nosey." Because she would. "First floor cleaned. You wanting to cook or order for pickup from somewhere and use that for the party? Any sort of decorations if you feel it is fitting." A quick frown. "Do we even have enough glassware and plates for all this? Should we get some?"

Phobos has posed:
    "Alright, so really we got two jobs here." He lowers his hand to her hip gently, then starts to step toward the staiirs, his body language leading him in the direction they need to take to handle the matter. "One of us needs to stay here, one needs to go and run around. I'm cool with doing either." Then his head tilts slightly, "Though..." He rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully, "You're the one that knows where all the firearms are hidden."
    Which was true, so _clearly_ she needs to be the one to stay here. And clean.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
There was a moment then a deep sigh from Natasha. She might've tried to argue because whoever had to stay behind had to clean. But he had thought of something very important. Worse, he was right.

"Great. I'll work on cleaning downstairs." Since upstairs they cleaned all the time as they lived in it. But downstairs no doubt needed some love outside just a little light dusting. "And I'll get the weapons locked in the safe in the attic."

And it wasn't just firearms but she felt that probably wasn't necessary to share right now. They just happened to be the thing she hid the most. There were at least five in every room. Even the bathroom. Paranoia at its finest! Though, in her case, they were often out to get her so it wasn't paranoia. It was preparation.

"Bad news, that means downstairs bathroom. Good news, it isn't used often so shouldn't be too bad." She hoped.

Phobos has posed:
    "Alright," He's already stepping down the first few steps in the stairwell, one hand sliding along the bannister as he pauses, "I'll grab what I can and I'll get back early enough for a second run if needs be."
    His footsteps start to carry him downwards, though he hesitates with just hs head visible as he rests a hand on the lip of the stairway. "Any last minute suggestions of things to get before I go? Booze, decor, food, plates?" He then disappears from view and she can hear his voice as he calls over his shoulder. "Should I pick up some meth? Last time I was out the guy on the corner tried to sell me some."
    She can't see his half-smirk as he heads for the door, but she can hear it in his voice.

Black Widow (Romanoff) has posed:
"What?"

Suddenly she is appearing at the top of the stairs, giving him a very confused look at the meth comment. Then the tone sank in and she smiled, shaking her head. "You are so bad."

Quickly she ran down the steps, coming to a stop as she leaned against him, placing a hand gently on his chest as she stood on tiptoe to claim a quick kiss. He wasn't getting away without that. Then she would step back. "If you think it would help, yes. Though I'd lean toward something that would put them to sleep. See if they have any Xanax maybe. We can spike their drinks..."

Phobos has posed:
    A short exhaled chuff of breath, almost a laugh comes from him at the Xanax comment though he then returns the kiss and squeezes her hand briefly before stepping to then through the door. He waves over his shoulder, "I'll think of something."
    And with that he's down the steps, moving toward the black SUV they currently have.
    Not too much longer and he's gone.