6095/=Steves Get Stitches

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=Steves Get Stitches
Date of Scene: 02 January 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Janet tries to hook Steve up with a booty call. Steve demures and makes a joke about being a pirate. Is it really her fault she's got questions about his personal life?
Cast of Characters: Captain America, Wasp (van Dyne), Quicksilver




Captain America has posed:
It had started out so nicely for Steve, this day. There had been time for a run before showing up at the Triskelion and his coffee had been hot and quick to arrive after being ordered. No excessive paperwork to be filed away, no long meetings, no harping or commands from the upper echelon of SHIELD personnel.

And just as quickly, on the flip of a coin, he had to level his oldest friend after yet another attempt to escape and leave the Captain lying in a pool of his own blood. A man can only take so much of this repeated happenstance. Something has to be done...

So, with a heavy heart and some serious moping on display (along with a knife wound stretching stitched from left mid-cheekbone to temple, fresh and still ugly-red), Steve's sitting on the roof of the Avenger's mansion. It's cold, but the sky is clear. What stars shine through the ambient glow of the city twinkle through the haze of atmospheric gasses. It's these he's looking up at, bundled in a coat and scarf, jeans and boots, seated in one of the lawn chairs left there from summer antics. He's got a mug of hot chocolate in both hands, rested on his lap, and by the smell, it's spiked heavily with liquor.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet van Dyne could probably stay in nicer digs. That's not a knock against Tony's design aesthetic or the manor's opulence. But there's a difference between staying at someone else's place, and staying somewhere that you *own*, all to yourself.

Fortunately, it's not as if she'll ever run out of space 'personal space', thanks to the Pym Particle technology. But what Janet really does enjoy is the companionship and feeling of being among close friends. Legions of butlers, models, and hangers-on just can't replicate the quality of the people who frequent the Avenger's home.

Janet gives Steve a few minutes to settle into his seat before venturing upwards. Maybe not long enough to be discreet about it, but at least long enough that she doesn't look like a lovesick puppy scampering after the sound of his boots. Janet has standards, damnit!

She skips one of her designer bootheels against the ground underfoot to announce her presence to his sharp hearing. She wears black leggings and ankle-high sable colored leather booties, with a stylish heel. Her heavy tweed jacket hangs to mid-thigh and a colorful scarf offsets the monochromatic oeuvre. "Steve! I thought I saw you come up here," she lies. "Want a cookie or something?" She approaches from his uninjured side, carrying a little coffee service tray in her hands. The scent of thin mints and fresh-brewed coffee are drawn along the edge of a breeze wisping towards the soldier out of time.

Quicksilver has posed:
It didn't take long for word to reach Pietro that Steve was down in the dumps.

So, in a blue blur, Pietro is wearing a thicker longcoat to stave off the cold with some nice black jeans and some nice winter boots. His hands have fingerless gloves! Did they have Janet's seal of approval? well...this time it's Black and Blue! liek a bruise. Not Black, Blue, and White. Subtle differences!

But, since Janet brought the coffee, Pietro just has a nice little mug in his hand, looking at Steve and speaking with an accent that he really no longer tries to hide. "Well, well, do something stupid, did you captain?" He zooms again, sitting on Steve's injured side...because where else is he gonna sit?

He looks to Janet, raising a brow...like he knew he was gonna be the guy to get steve cookies.

Captain America has posed:
Janet's boots do announce her and she can see Steve's chin drop as he does his best to center himself. Thus, by the time she reaches him and after a white cloud of a short sigh before his face, he glances up at her. It's long enough to flash the newly-sutured wound stretching along his face.

"Sure, a cookie sounds swell," he replies in a vaguely jovial tone to go along with the mild smile. He can't commit to the expression much more right now, since the crinkle of eyes requires skin that stings something fierce. Reaching out, he snags one Thin Mint and takes a small nibble. It tastes wonderful in comparison to the metallic after-flavor of faded adrenaline.

Then there's the arrival of the young speedster and the Captain glances over at him. His wheat-gold brows dip into a scowl at Pietro before he looks down at his own cup of steaming cocoa.

"Dunno about stupid...not just yet. You should see the other guy though," he tries to quip hollowly.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet flickers A Look at Pietro. It's fast enough that even Pietro might miss it. Steve very likely will as well. She maintains her comportment. Why on earth would she be irritated that Pietro showed up uninv-- unannounced when she was bringing Steve coffee and cookies?

The sight of the fresh sutures crack her Perfectly Polite model's smile more than anything else could, though. Alarm flashes across her pixie-like features and the tray is set aside with a rattle of metal and ceramic. "Holy shit Steve!" she balks. Surprisingly strong fingers reach out to press to his forehead and chin, trying to tilt his wounds upwards so she can examine them more closely. "What the hell happened? You look like you got in a bar fight!" she clucks, fussing over him.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro just shrugs at Steve, though he does lift a hand to showcase that Pietro doesn't mean anything by it. But clearly...Steve got the shit kicked out of him SOMEHOW. He just hopes this wasn't some weird self-infliction phase. "If you look like that..." one of the best fighters that Pietro knows. "I'm not sure I really want to see other guy."

He sips his coffee, watching unperturbed as Janet looks alarmed and checks over Steve. "So...you going to tell us about who did this to you? They must have mean right hook."

Captain America has posed:
With patience, the Captain allows his head to be tilted by Janet's careful hands and turned so the ambient light falls better across the left side of his face. Anyone with medical training will realize the nature of the weapon as blade. That it's shallow speaks to either luck or skill on Steve's part. Otherwise, the bruises are light, barely visible, and concentrated in places where a SWAT helmet might have hugged close to his skin. There might also be a small corner of his heart wherein he doesn't mind the fussing as much as he thought he might. Already, that stiff composure is melting a little in the presence of his Avenger companions.

"I tried to have a discussion with a friend and we disagreed. He does have a mean right hook..." It seems that Steve's going to reluctantly agree with the speedster in this. He tries smiling a little again up at Janet to mollify her. "I'll be fine. I can walk it off."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet palms Steve's face with abject worry on her face. Basic field medicine training is more about stopping bleeding and promoting breathing. Beyond that, Janet-- well, she has *people* for beyond that! Which makes the current situation dismally untenable and frustrating.

"Oh, Steve," she sighs, wearily. From his tone and deliberate wording, the 'friend' could only be one person. She slips her arms around his neck and hugs him, resting her chin atop his head and patting his unwounded temple reassuringly as she's able. It's a little awkward looking, Janet's about as motherly as a ... well, a wasp. She breaks after a second and scowls down at Steve, worry giving way to anger. "How on *Earth* did you get *stabbed*?" she demands, her tone irate. "In the face! You can't get stabbed in the face, you ... dork!" She bangs a small fist on his shoulder. "And who's running the show out there, anyway, that he got LOOSE? With a KNIFE!?" She keeps punctuating her words with a flailing of her hand, which keeps landing on Steve's shoulder. She doesn't seem aware she's doing it. "I've got half a mind to--" "I-- I'll call up Fury, or--" she seethes, and then points at Pietro. "Pietro! Put your running shoes on! You're taking me to SHIELD, I'm gonna go find someone to yell at!"

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro is just siiiiipin' on his hot cup of joe. Nothin' to see here...nothin' to yell at OH SHI-

Pietro looks at Steve. He's seen altercations...but getting stabbed in the face is a pretty unique one. "She does have point...and Janet is scary when she's upset." then she's talking to him! "whoa, whoa...easy. the last time I tried barging into SHIELD, I was getting shot at. I do not think that is too good of an idea. ESPECIALLY if the big guy is in the house." of course he means Fury.

and Pietro is pretty up there on that guy's shit list.

"Is there a solution where you don't yell at someone?"

Captain America has posed:
The cup of hot cocoa rises to his lips and is placed back into his lap by the time Janet's got an imperiative finger aimed at Pietro. The Captain makes to rub at his eyes and ends up wincing as he pulls at freshly-sutured skin again.

"Janet. Janet!" He's hoping he only has to bark her name once. It lacks a lot of the auditory slap he's capable of, but there's a tired thread of steel in it. "Pietro's right. There's a solution where you don't yell at anyone -- and it's that you don't. You won't get Fury if you go over there and pitch a fit, you'll get Director May. She's got enough on her hands right now. Maybe cut her some slack?" He reaches out to stop the incessant slapping at his shoulder and ends up doing some odd amalgamation of grabbing at and forcing her hand out of his personal space. "Besides, 'm not made of glass. I'm fine."

A beat, and then, with a touch of sass, "...least I didn't get shot." Someone's making tired and bad decisions in side comments..

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"No!" Janet squawks at Pietro. It's a totally irrational statement and she knows it. The fact that she knows it just makes her ears turn redder with anger and embarassment, but she lifts her chin at Pietro as if daring him to say something else. DARING HIM.

She's mollified by Steve's cool tone, which also calls to the attention that her gentle pat to his arm has turned into a tiny fist pummelling him into feeling better. She guiltily jams her hands into her coat pockets. A sullen expression crosses her features, not quite as fetching as a pout and looking quite a bit more irritated than chagrined. She acknowledges Steve's reprimand with a grumbled monosyllable that sounds fairly put out, moreso because Steve is making good sense.

Then that sassy little rejoined pierces her moody distemper. Eyes go wide with shock and impulsive anger. "Y-YOU--!" she splutters, and gets her fists caught in her coat pockets before she can make a grab for one of his ears.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro looks at Janet, and he leans forward, staring her down. She was scary, but he 's fought scarier. Like his dad. "Well, then there should be! yelling at people only makes things much worse. You cannot just fix problems by yelling at people. You either do, or you leave Steve to his business." Pietro sips his coffee then. Challenge accepted, Janet.

He does look to Steve then, nodding softly to him. SEE?!

then he looks back to Janet. uh oh.

Captain America has posed:
"Me what, Janet?" Steve briefly lifts a hand towards Pietro and gives him a mild frown, the gesture made to gently ask him not to bait Janet more (that's his job anyways). "It'll be resolved. Cross my heart," and he gives her a more imploring look while marking an X across his coat with one finger.

"I came up here for quiet. You were kind and brought cookies. And coffee too, looks like," he adds, craning to see the tray she set aside. "Pull up a chair. Tell me of your days instead." He looks between his two comrades. "I wanna hear about...about the normal stuff, even if it's emails and meetings and telling people off for wearing orange and green at the same time." Steve tries for a bigger smile. It's lop-sided for favoring the stitches, but it's in earnest.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Saved by undersized coat pockets. It gives Janet that extra half a second to check her ear-grabbing reflex, and she scowls thunderously at Steve and Pietro. When Steve implores her to stay and chat, she draws herself up to her full five-something height and puts every bit of cool indignity she can into her voice. "I'm not sure I'm in the *mood*, MISTER Rogers," she says, with a peevish tone. She stamps her foot once and with a snapcrack of noise and a little light, Janet shrinks down to something roughly Tinkerbell-sized. She stamps a tiny foot on the ground and glares up at Steve. "Hmph!" she says. Squeaks.

There's a fluttering of wings and she zooms into the pachysandrea bush.

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro looks to Steve, finally just frowning back and looking away. "whatever." Is all hes ays, before he looks to Janet as she tinker-bells away.

"I pity the man who ends up being her Peter Pan." that temper is....

But, at Steve's wish, Pietro looks to Captain America. "Well...I saw my sister again. we caught up. She supports me in joining the team full time. I mainly do so so I can be around her more often." those twins are tied at the hip. "but also so I can repent and change from what I've done. But, I am happy to have been reunited with Wanda again. Apparently I will end up meeting her boyfriend too...whom I will refrain from killing."

because....overprotective brother.

Captain America has posed:
"She might come back," murmurs the Captain quietly. He finally stuffs the Thin Mint he's been keeping safe from kerfuffle into his mouth and then stretches out to snag another from the plate sitting on the tray. He eats it and listens to Pietro's report of his day with the usual attentiveness dulled only slightly by weariness. A nod from Steve at the wisdom of not ending the boyfriend.

"I never had siblings, but I can imagine that killing Wanda's boyfriened wouldn't end well for anyone, much less her brother." It's a wry acknowledgement towards the Witch's impressive powers. The blond man considers the pachysandrea bush now.

"Janet, please come have coffee with us," asks Steve quietly, even making to hold out a hand. Either it's a landing pad if she's wee or something to take if she decides to return full-sized from her bastion of foliage.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
There's a flittering of wings, and Janet lands in Steve's palm. "I'm still mad at you two!" she says, her voice a high-pitched chirp. "You for getting stabbed!" she tells Steve. As if that weren't patently obvious. She wags an index finger smaller than a grain of rice at him.

"And you!" she tells Pietro, turning her miniscule ire on the speedster. "You're supposed to take MY side on Steve getting stabbed! And after I let you model for me!" she says, with scowling indignation.

She leaps off Steve's hand and grows to full height with a flickering rush of air. Quick fingers snatch a thin mint off the coffee service and she glares at both of the men. "And by the way," she says, rounding on Pietro. "Wanda came to my little yacht party and she was so happy to hear that you were back that she just *poofed*--" Janet gesticulates with both hands, a few crumbs flying. "She just left! Right when we were all getting drinks! So you're WELCOME."

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro looks to Steve, "I will only kill him if he breaks her heart. That is what is unacceptable." Pietro crosses his arms then, being stubborn as usual. Before he looks to Janet, sighing lightly. "It's not like I didn't take your side. My goodness. on the bright side, you look nice today." Pietro tries to calm Janet. likely to no avail.

He sighs, before he looks at her when she's fully grown. "She told me. I was looking for her, you know. Sorry that I ruined your party."

Captain America has posed:
For a wonder, Steve manages to not smile in amusement at the smallest talking-to he's received in some time. Instead, he watches with that mild grin still on his face. Her dismount makes his hand drop a touch and he then settles into his chair more after her return to full size.

A sip of his hot cocoa and he opines, "I'm sure you didn't mean to make her leave the party in bad intentions, Pietro. Family's important. I bet Janet's hosting another party soon enough, right? Will I have to wear a tux to it?" He asks of the fashionista, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Don't you LOVE this jacket?" Janet asks of Pietro, and turns neatly on the ball of her foot. "I love the double-breasted peacoat look, but navy blue is so 1985," she exhales, wearily. "So I went with the totally retro tweed professor look. But--" she tugs Pietro's arm, standing on tiptoes to stage whisper: "it's not really tweed," she tells him. She holds an arm out. "Look! Feel it! It's a cotton/wool blend. It's very warm, but it breathes wonderfully," she says, smiling and shrugging up into the upturned collar of the designer outfit like it's a warm blanket wrapped around her ears. "Plus it's very soft. And machine-washable, that's a big thing I'm on about lately," she tells him.

"I was thinking of doing a New Year's Eve party again. Call it New Year's Eve-- Part Deux," she tells Steve. She plonks into an empty chair, crossing her legs at the knee, and reaches for a thin mint to bite carefully into. Munch, munch. Seems her earlier anger is completely forgotten. "I do love any excuse to get you boys into tuxedos," she says, eyes twinkling at the two men. "But for the sake of the senior citizens, I suppose we could make it 'business casual'." She crunches her remaining cookie, gesturing around with a lazily circled index finger. "It'll probably be jus' us," she says, politely covering her mouth with her hand while she finishes chewing. "If I get one more Jewish dowager trying to introduce me to her podiatrist grandson, I'm going to start shrinking New York society and keeping them trapped in a model train diorama."

Quicksilver has posed:
Pietro looks at Steve, and he just chuckles. He nods though. "Yes. and you probably will, Captain.' and he looks to Janet as she seems to just brighten up, his hand reaching out to feel her soft coat. "ooo...that is soft. You will have to tell me how to make. Perhaps over coffee sometime, no?"

Then he sits back down. Janet's on her fashion speech again.

and poor steve and pietro is her audience. "I can only imagine how fun those parties are." because he will avoid them like the plague..unless Janet drags him by his ear.

Captain America has posed:
Having had his fill of the cookies, Steve declines to take another at this point. He shifts in the chair after adjusting the collar on his bomber jacket more closely about his neck. The chill does creep through seams after a while, even when the coat is well-lined in fleece.

"And by 'business casual', you mean I could show up to this New Year's Eve, part deux, shindig in jeans and a blazer? I'm comfortable enough in that, it's a deal. Depending on when you have it, the stitches will be out and this'll all be healed up." He draws towards his face. "Either that or I walk around doing imitations of a pirate. Arrrg." The sound is even accompanied by a little sneer, though that expression quickly smoothes away once it twinges the stitches.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Oh, I don't *make* it, darling," Janet tells Pietro, and pats his arm reassuringly. "I have people for that. My shoemaker is in Milan-- love him to death, he's seventy years old and looks like a gnome. Both sides of his family are cobblers going back to something like 1650."

She wraps her hands around a cup of coffee. "And of course I have tailors and seamstresses working in my design shop, but that's all really the haute cotoure and fashion line work. You know, for modelling, at the major fashion shows. If I make this for production, it'll come out of my factory in... I think it's in Ohio?" she says, nose wrinkling. "Astoria, or something like that. I can't remember," she says, waving the unimportant detail away like a pesky bug. "But if you two want to come, yes, blazers would be perfectly acceptable," she assures the boys, and rests her hand on Steve's wrist. She gives him a beatific smile. "Just make sure you're wearing clean shoes. Old army boots don't count."

Captain America has posed:
"Y'now, I'm tempted to wear them simply because you told me not to," Steve informs the fashionista solemnly. "What's the old adage... History is cylical? What goes around, comes aroud? There's a song about that..." A brief musing to himself and he mutters, "Timberlake?" But it's not so important that he expands further on his remembered musical moment. "Lemme know when you plan it. Send me a Tweet - no, a text," he corrects himself with a little and short-lived wrinkle of his nose.

The soldier sighs as he looks down at his hot cocoa again. "It's a damn shame that it's all taste and no kick." The irritated mutter is about the liquor in his sweet drink.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's brow furrows in consternation at Steve's suddenly downturned voice. "Oh! I have some good news!" she says, brightening, and shifts in her seat a bit closer to Steve. "I figure things being... well, what they are," she says, delicately. "You might need someone to take to the theater," the socialite tells him. "I figured you were about to bring it up the other night, and we got..." she pinks. "Interrupted."

A finger plucks absently at his jacket wristsleeve. "I figured, you'd want to bring someone who enjoys the theater. Who's okay with you and your whole... situation," she hazards. "Where there won't be a lot of awkward questions. You know. And someone you'd enjoy being with. Someone who's charming, and has the same interests, and ... well, I don't know." She gives Steve a shy, fetching look up through her lashes. "Does that sound like someone you'd enjoy spending time with?"

She waits a beat for Steve to express some agreement, and a smile blooms across her face. "Wonderful! I am *sure* you'll like my friend Leslie then, they're just *dying* to meet you. I'll handle everything-- can you do an eight PM pickup before the show?"

Captain America has posed:
By the time the petite fasionista hits 'interrupted', the Captain's leaned back in his seat in near-rapt attention. This has the smell of a Janet machination about it already. He glances over towards Pietro, but instead finds an empty chair. Ah -- the young man must have remembered an errand or perhaps scooted to avoid further ear-dragging to parties. He looks back to Janet and can't help the subtle tuck of chin in suspicion. His gaze falls to her fidgeting hand at his wrist and then rises back up to her face. The man's watching for all the tells now.

The cajoling flutter-lash glance up at him is enough to bring some pink to his own ears now. It's awfully reminiscent to how the chorus line gals used to wink at him before the start of each show, as if trying to be the one to ruffle the stoic Captain. "...it might sound like someone," he hedges. Her response is exuberant and leaves his eyebrows nearly crawling up into his hairline. "I, uh, don't think I'm ready to entertain anyone like that, Janet. Not someone I don't know." His wince is apologetic. "I meant to ask if you wanted to tag along when Tony interrupted. I'd rather have it be someone I know 'nd you're..." He stumbles for a way to describe it, his eyes sliding to one side briefly. "You know how to deflect all the lights and cameras."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Oh, you silly man," Janet says, fondly, and pats Steve's (uninjured) cheek. "Don't worry. Leslie's a pro at this. Used to be in the theater back in the day. Plus, these are *box seats*," she points out. "I had to fight off two Kennedys and a Rockefeller for them, and I might have threatened someone's dog," she says, shifty-eyed.

"You'll be able to duck the papparazzi, easy. My limo will drop you off at the valet parking and there won't be a soul in sight but the ushers and staff. Oh, please go, it'd mean the world to Leslie," she whines, her green eyes wide and puppyish with their begging. "And you spend too much time with me as it is. You need to get out more. Make new friends. Break out of the rut. I know... I know things are rough with Bucky," she says, taking a breath. "But the world is gonna keep spinning and you can't spend all of your time in prisons and high towers with a tacky sense of decor." She rests her cheek on his wrist, batting her lashes. "I just know you won't let my present go to waste!" Knife. Stab. Twist.

Captain America has posed:
"I don't spend all my time in prisons and high towers..." mutters Steve even as he arches an eyebrow down at the woman. He seems mollified to hear of the ability to bypass all the lights and cameras, but this is some serious wheedling going on still. A toss-back of the cocoa and he sets the empty mug on the tray, beside the cookie plate.

"Tell me more about Leslie first. How do we share interests?" he asks, pinning the petite fashionista in her chair with severely polite attention. "I was only in theatre because I had no idea that I had other options at the time," he points out.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Oh, honey, you don't have to explain anything to me," Janet assures Steve. She smiles beatifically at the implied acquiescence. Well, she's *taking* it as an acquiesence, anyway. "Theater's always been sort of a refuge for people who didn't 'fit in' with everyone else. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been going from the boards to Army boots," she tells him, sympathetically. "But I imagine you found some friends who accepted you everywhere you went. Sure doesn't hurt that you've got pecs that could crack walnuts," she says, giving his chest a wry, envious glance.

"Anyway. Hmm? Oh, look, why ruin the surprise? Here's the address," she says, scribbling onto a cocktail napkin with a charcoal pencil and giving it to Steve. "Be there *promptly* at eight, and yes, you will need to be wearing formal wear. A suit would be... okay... but-- oh!" She claps his forearm with both hands, excited. "You could wear your uniform! The, uh, the formal one! I've seen all kinds of army guys wearing their uniforms at balls and galas and stuff. That would be *perfect*, and I'm sure the cast would just die if they got to meet CAPTAIN Rogers in full, um, uniform! Oh please, Steve, please do it for me?" she whines, pleading.

Captain America has posed:
"Refuge?" Something clicks. Steve mouths silently and gets out, "Wait, you -- " Momentarily derailed by the comment about pecs, he clears his throat and makes to interrupt her again.

However, he's now got an address in his hand. He reads it, memorizes it as easily as breathing, and looks up at Janet now imploringly. "Janet, you -- " Oh, of course, the formal uniform - er, suit, that's what's being suggested. The Captain runs a hand down his mouth against the less-than-polite thoughts he has on her kind-at-heart offerings and finally lets out a horse-laugh. It quickly breaks into a faint sound of pain, ouch.

"Janet." He says her name firmly, the cast of his face now solemn. "Is your friend Leslie a guy? I like surprises as much as the next person, but this is a blind date and I'm not a fan of those. Tell me the truth." Counter to those big green puppy-dog eyes, Steve shoots back his perfectly-expectant set of jaw and brows.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet blinks. "Well... yeah," she says, shrinking a little from the command voice he employs. Her fingers stop dancing on his sleeve and fall away, curling nervously in her lap. "I- I'm sorry Steve, I just... wanted it to be a nice surprise," she admits, her voice quite small and tinged with uncertain worry. "I figured with... with everything going on with Bucky, and with the Avengers and all that, you'd ... well you'd like a bit of *normal* for a change."

Captain America has posed:
The man disappears behind his hand splayed across his face at the well-meaning explanation, but not for long. With another misty sigh, he settles himself in his chair again. Janet gets a small, exasperated curl of his lips.

"My kind of 'normal' isn't that kind of normal, Janet. I'm not interested in anyone right now. Period. It's..." A lift of his hand and it falls back to the chair's arm with a quiet clunk. "I don't know what I want. I thought I had it years ago, but life...y'know, you can't always get what you want. And now, I dunno what makes me happy." He tilts his head a little, still watching her. "I like your surprise. It was kind and you meant well. I'm just not ready to date or entertain anyone I don't know." He stretches his legs out in front of him and crosses his booted ankles, projecting comfort in her presence. "Tell you what. I'll go...if you get a third ticket. Same box, same section, they pull in a third chair and you join us. No questions asked. And you stay for the whole show," he adds with a narrowing of eyes. "You don't wander off on some phone call or something 'important.'" That one came with air-quotes.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet snorts at Steve. It's a very unladylike sound coming from the petite socialite. "I'm not gonna show up and play third wheel, Steve Rogers," she says, a little huffily. "And I'm not going to get Leslie's hopes up if that's how you feel. I'll... I'll let him down gently. I'm probably going to have to get him tickets to Magic Mike when it comes back through town." She sighs with feigned weariness. "At least he likes cabaret. No, I'll... keep you company, I guess," she says, reluctantly. "I still think it'd be better for you to meet someone new, but if you feel that strongly about it, a friend's better than going stag."

She rises to her feet, then leans down and kisses Steve's cheekbone impulsively. "I guess I could do worse than playing beard for a night," she teases, and gives his hair a fond, gentle tousle. "Take care of that cut, okay? Don't scratch at it. That's the wrong kind of sexy scar, believe me."

Captain America has posed:
A soft grunt (a repressed laugh) from Steve after he receives the ruffling. Eh, no one's going to judge his hair anyways, not up here on the rooftop -- nobody but the pigeons all asleep under the eaves.

"Glad you're magnanimous," he comments, tilting his head to properly look at her from his chair. Even when short, she's taller than him seated. "Let him down gently. Tell him the truth too -- that you," he pauses for a beat, smirking at her, " - misinterpreted a man's perfectly innocent answer to your question about an old friend. It'll be on your conscience if you don't," he adds. "I'm not gonna hold you to it, but if I ever run into Leslie and he asks me, that's what I'll be telling him. Might as well beat me to it."

His fingertips tenderly test at the sutures. "This'll be gone by the time the show starts too. No pirate escort for you."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet smiles and squeezes Steve's hand reassuringly. "I'll let him down gentle, I promise," she tells Steve. She trails her fingers along Steve's arm and walks off with a quiet click of her shoes on the hard stones, hands going into her jacket pockets and a pensive frown crossing her face. She's struggling hard to dissect Steve's words.

A few moments later, her breath is warm on Steve's ear, standing behind his chair. "Maybe I'll just have to tell Leslie that you found some other booty to plunder, Cap'n." She kisses the edge of his suddenly scarlet-flushed ear. "Arr," she whispers, and with a giggle vanishes into thin air as his impish Tinkerbelle flies off into the manor proper.