6854/Laundry Night

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Laundry Night
Date of Scene: 11 March 2019
Location: Unknown
Synopsis: Steve and Janet have another late-night talk about their budding relationship.
Cast of Characters: Captain America, Wasp (van Dyne)




Captain America has posed:
Superheroes are human too.

Okay, no, not all of them are human, but they were raised human.

Well...okay, //most// of them are human and were raised human -- the point being is that human habits and societal norms are the usual for Steve Rogers as well. This includes laundry.

This also includes dealing with broken-down machines. JARVIS is aware of it and so there's nothing left for Steve to do than borrow one of the guest bedroom's machines for now, until the local electricians can come in and fix it. Or maybe one of Tony's machines attempts to. Thus, with a mounded armful of dry and still-warm week's worth of laundry held in his arms, the Captain's maneuvering down the hallway towards his bedroom. He can't see past it, but he doesn't hear anyone approaching and makes no move to mind where he's going. He believes in his reflexes.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
There's a sudden resistance in front of Steve, but being the lumbering hunk he is, physics gives him a significant advantage in the exchange. There's a squeak, a mild *thump*, and another squeak. "Damnit! Watch it!" The irascible voice can only belong to one person.

Janet leverages her way to her rear, trying to get her clothing back in order. Next to her is an entire hamper of upset laundry. The fashionista clearly didn't expect anyone else to be up at this hour. Her face is void of cosmetics, carrying a more natural health to her cheeks. She wears a gold-hemmed black silk robe with elbow-length sleeves, and under it a simple black nightie that hangs to near her mid-thigh. "Gah. I had these all *folded*," she exhales, and starts shoving the pile of things back into her hamper.

Captain America has posed:
"Oh -- geez, sorry!" About a third of Steve's own mountain of laundry tumbles off as he takes two large and sudden strides backwards against the forwards motion of his travels. Craning his head, he's just able to peek around the fold of one of his t-shirts and upon seeing who he suspect it is, he lets out a soft grunt.

"Sorry, Janet, just...gimme a minute, I gotta -- " The soldier pauses to see if he can pawn the pile of his own laundry off onto a nearby hallway table. It barely fits; one pair of athletic socks rolls to the floor as insult. He ignores those and other detrius fallen earlier from his armful in order to take one knee and begin to hand off clothing to the fashionista. "Didn't think anyone would still be up," he explains as to his blinded walking as he hands off a shirt to her.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Wait, were you doing laundry just now?" Janet gives Steve a baffled look. "I was just coming from the laundry room and I didn't see you there." She points down the hallway, but to the *right*, opposite Steve's line of travel.

"Did Vision tell you when that lint trap issue would be fixed? I've got some stuff I don't want to send out for cleaning and I hate the idea of my unmentionables touching anything that Tony might have washed his jock in." She rolls her eyes and starts carelessly piling her clothing in the hamper to get it tidied as fast as possible. "How come you're up, buster?" she asks Steve, flashing him a fond smile.

Captain America has posed:
With the barest touch of amusement kept short-leashed as not to offend, the man replies, "I'm up doing laundry." He gestures back towards his own pile struggling to remain atop the small hallway desk. He gives Janet a one-sided dimple as he continues handing off articles of clothing to the fashionista. "I have my own machines in my room. Washer and dryer. My dryer's broken, so I was borrowing the one in the guest bedroom no one's using."

His fingers brush over something decidedly sleek and silky to the touch. An idle glance down at it has him coloring lightly and then handing it off to Janet, struggling to remain impassive. "Dunno if you have more to do. You can use mine, if you want. I mean, my laundry's gone through it, so...dunno about your unmentionables."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Mine too," Janet tells Steve. "Vision, lint trap, apparently they're all connected, blah blah blah yes I'd love some company. I've got another bundle to do." Mercilessly, she smiles at Steve and takes the delicates from his hand. It's carefully folded and left on top of the bundle of messy laundry in a *completely* un-necessary way, just to bait Steve.

She balances her laundry on her hip and waits for Steve to get his things under his arms again. Janet's eyes mirror her delighted grin at the laundry-pile juggling, trying to keep socks atop the pile. Before it turns into a slapstick routine she puts a hand on Steve's forearm to stall him and picks up the errant garments to be put in her own hamper for easy carrying. "I, uh... I had fun last night." She gives Steve an almost shyly aside look. "Thanks for being a sport about the outfits. You looked great."

Captain America has posed:
Being the gentleman born and raised, the Captain tries very hard not to stare at the obvious placement of the unmentionables. Instead, once he's certain Janet's got her own spilled laundry under control, he moves to collect his own. It's not nearly as disastrous of a spill on his end and he's being quick about it. Ignoring the heat lingering in the tips of his ears, he then grabs it all up again from the surface of the hallway desk.

"Thanks -- for grabbing the socks, I mean," Steve begins with a huff of a laugh. He then makes to continue down the hallway towards his room. "And you looked great too. Dazzling," he amends. "You look dazzling. Looked dazzling. I mean, you always look dazzling." Maybe the impress of his face into his pile of clothing will be hidden, accompanied as it is by a silent groan. "I had fun too, more than I thought it would. Seems like the others did too."

Having left his bedroom door cracked, Steve toes it open and walk in. The bundle of dry clothing gets dumped on his bed. Folding will come later. He turns and gives Janet a lop-sided smile. "Your stuff's dry, so...wanna go drop it off and I'll get my washer all cleared, at least? Or you could use the guest bedroom's washer //and// dryer, instead of switching between the two. Whatever's easier."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Aw, you're so cute when you're flustered and stronk man no word good," Janet says. She reaches up and tweaks Steve's red-flushed earlobe playfully and waits by the door for Steve to dump his laundry on the bed. Janet beckons him to her room and mirrors the process, except on much prettier linens. A smaller bucket of various soaps, detergents, and other mysterious laundry-related implements is replaced in her basket and then Janet piles another load into the bin. It's propped against a cocked hip and she walks back to Steve, balancing easily in her low kitten heels. God forfend she be caught running around in ... flats. Even if it's near midnight in the Mansion.

"You still owe me a dance, though. Tony's 'okay'," she says, heading back to the laundry she'd been using. "He's all about himself when he dances. It's *supposed* to be all about the lady." She huffs. "Once his hands start going over his head, I'm like, m out'," she says, sketching a horizontal, two-fingered salute from her eyebrow.

Captain America has posed:
Meandering along beside Janet with his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, Steve laughs softly to himself at her opinions and corresponding gesture. "I don't mind owing you a dance. Tony...I think he dances to enjoy himself. If that includes another woman, then..." He tosses his head mildly to one side as if to give credence the mysteriousness that is Tony Stark at times. "Dunno. What's wrong with when his hands go over his head? A lot of the turns I showed you have the lead with hands over the head."

By the muted twinkle in his eyes, the Captain's enjoying playing devil's advocate if only to hear the explanation. What he observed on the dance floor was all well and good, but it's still foreign yet. He lingers by the doorway of the main laundry room in a lean on the doorframe and leans on the doorframe. His fingers fuss with the white drawstrings of his navy-blue sweatshirt.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"I don't know, it's just... it looks weird. It's different when you're dancing like, ballroom and stuff," Janet argues. "You need to move your caveman arms out of my way so I don't get elbowed in the face. When Tony's dancing around, all... 'yah, lookit me!'" She waves her arms overhead, gyrating in a completely unnatural and awkward way. "It kind of kills the vibe. Only Jess and I get to do that move." She turns and leans over so she can start pulling her things from the washer and transfer to the drier.

Captain America has posed:
There's a chuckle from Steve he can't stop. "Only you and Jessica get to do the...what'd you call it. 'Yeah, lookit me' move?" Then, very deliberately, he mimics what Janet just displayed. However, Steve also does so in a manner than can't be interpreted as anything other but teasing. There's some gyrating and some above-the-head hand motions accompanied by some twirling of his pointer fingers.

It doesn't last for long, however, because he ends up laughing hard enough to need to lean against the doorframe. The sound of him reacting in embarrassment ends up stifled behind his hand and accompanied by another round of red ears.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Ohh shiiiiit, it's *on*, Capsicle," Janet says, wagging her index finger in an S-shape through the air. "Jarvis, Janet's Party Mix 4." A thudding lead note comes over the local speakers and Janet advances on Steve. She bites her lower lip, looking up at him and bobbing her head.

Then the bass drops and she starts doing something that technically could count as dancing. In a generous sense of the word. Instead of backing it up she backs it forwards, pelvis thrusting and her fists pumping in and out like a demented, arrhythmic rower. "Aww it's my beat yo," she tells Steve, affecting a heavily Brox patoir. "Unf, unf, check it out. C'mon, how sexy is this?" She closes her eyes and starts flailing-- the best word for it-- even more violently, her upper and lower body moving in total disconnect.

Captain America has posed:
Steve straightens up against the doorframe as the first beat comes on over the interior sound system of the laundry room. Then, he can't help but stare as the woman does what appears to be an approach right out of Jurassic Park, down to the showcasing of teeth. Unfortunately, Steve doesn't speak raptor.

Her more spastic display to follow has him visibly torn between mortified mirth and more outright staring. He holds up his palms towards her at the level of his hips and coughs once or twice before he falls prey to the latter state of being. "Good god, Janet, what -- "

Words are hard when you're outright guffawing!

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Steve's laughter provokes a luminous grin from the socialite. Before he can completely double over she interlaces her fingers with his to calm him down, joining his laugh. "What, don't mock my native dances," she scolds him. "That's called the Dance of the Soccer Mom. I learned it from a lady named Karen, who probably wants to speak to your manager about the chablis selection."

She squeezes his hands to mollify him and her motion becomes more rhythmic and controlled, hips swivelling back and forth in long, lazy loops. Her teeth fret her lower lip again, this time more sensually than comedically, and she drops her weight suddenly in a low squat before smoothly elevating her hips, then torso, to a standing position. "There, now the last thing on your mind tonight won't be me looking like a spaz," Janet tells Steve.

Captain America has posed:
The fashionista's embrace of his fingers is returned at the same friendly pressure and Steve's laughter does peter out, though not before he makes a mental note to ask about who this Karen person is and what she wants with chablis later.

Later -- because the boomerang shift in intent has him paying very close attention now to the dance moves on display. His throat bobbles. "I will...not be thinking that you look like a spaz," the Captain echoes as he continues to stand there, anchoring her hands in a light grip with his own.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet smiles knowingly up at Steve and pats his cheek before moving back to her pile of laundry. Wet things are tossed into the dryer, largely contained in hollow plastic balls to protect them, and then it's set for 'light dry'. The high-end machine rumbles and starts humming, a testament to balanced bearings.

She tosses some clothes into the washer and uses more of the laundry balls to protect the delicates from the wash cycle. For a moment she's completely focused on her task at hand, measuring careful amounts of some industrial detergent and then adding a few other mysterious chemicals.

"I set you up for a great 'you been running through running through my mind all night' line there, Steve, and you totally biffed it," Janet advises Cap. She turns on the washing machine and stands facing him, one hand resting on the device for balance as it kicks on. "What *will* you be thinking of, I wonder?" she asks, with a falsely demure expression.

Captain America has posed:
"Ah." A quiet acknowledgment of a missed opportunity and Steve goes back to leaning against the doorframe again. It's a show of composure; the little tells of fluster still remain. "'nd I..." He schuffs the pad of his foot on the smooth surface of the laundry room floor. The thick socks almost deaden the sound entirely. He glances up from it with lips quirked to one side in a tenative smile.

"I think your imagination's as good as mine. Bet you can guess well enough," he says as conversational parry.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet exhales a great, busom-heaving sigh. "I think my imagination's better, Steven," she tells him. "And I don't *have* to guess. I just like hearing you admit it." It's not quite a sashay, but a deliberate rolling stride, that bears her closer to Steve. A palm rests on the interior of the doorframe and slides upwards, Janet's ribs resting against the painted wood trim. The posture emphasizes her hips and narrow waist, her shoulders perpendicular to Steve's position. "I mean." She pauses, giving him a deliberate up and down that concludes with a smouldering look up through her lashes. "Showing beats telling, of course, but you're still in seduction school so I'll give you a pass."

Captain America has posed:
Rotating on the spot, Steve aligns his spine to the lintel behind him. His hands are now shoved into the pockets of his sweatshirt. He meets and holds those vibrantly-green eyes for as long as he can manage without giving away tells of fevered reaction. There's a sense of calculation behind his own true-blues.

"Thought we were still at th' courtin' phase, miss van Dyne. 'nd here you were, showin' me patience. I'll admit it." He leaves a deliberate pause in the relaxed delivery of Irish-accented words to blow a slow sigh and shrug his broad shoulders. "You'll be runnin' through my mind all night long, lass."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet emits a sound a little like a teakettle at critical mass and bites her lower lip. Hard. She seems completely unaware of it or the red flush crawling up her neck. The fashionita coughs once as she fiddles with her half-open robe as if suddenly feeling immodest. Or overdressed. Both.

"Well, that's news to me," she tells Steve, struggling to get a handle on her voice. She very, very delicately clears her throat to drive away a sudden husky breathlessness. "See, last I heard, I thought you were *thinking* about courting me. That's a fair cry from an actual courtship, isn't it?" she inquires of him. Her hand rests on her outcocked hip. "I don't remember us having a conversation about it, anyway," she says, with an exhale of feigned resign. She tosses her head once and looks up at Steve, one immaculate brow hiking a millimeter at him.

Captain America has posed:
A dimpled smile on the Captain shouldn't have that shadow of smug...but it does. He adopts a more easy-going air yet, as if he's certain that he has the upper hand at this time.

"What do you say then to me courtin' you, miss van Dyne? So we can say we've had the proper conversation?" Try as he might to not let on about it, Steve does find himself almost holding his breath after the inquiry leaves his lips, still with the lyrical lilt of accent.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet looks up and to the side, thinking over Steve's question. A beat. Two. Fingernails arch and drum against the doorfame a few times in a contemplative rattle. She looks back at her laundry, rumbling in the two machines at different pitches and intervals. For no apparent reason she starts humming to herself and her head bobs back and forth as if weighing and measuring on an invisible scale.

At the first noise of protest or unease from Steve, she pauses and gives him a sly, pointed look, smile curling up the sides of her lips.

"Of course I'd like that, Steven," she says after an interminable length of suspense. "All you had to do was ask nicely, you know." She blinks up at him coquettishly.

Captain America has posed:
Slooooowly, as the charade goes on, Steve begins to tuck his chin. He doesn't drop his regard from her face, however, even as he shifts in place to recross his ankles. Uncertainty begins to make an acidic mess of the dinner he had hours ago. Disbelief spikes; he can't have overstepped his bounds? Janet's cue to relent comes in the nearly-silent huff from the Captain.

He //barely// avoids rolling his eyes in the face of her simper. "Glad to hear it. Then we're courtin'. Or going steady, whatever people call it today." The second half of his thought is spoken in the usual Brooklyn inflection. The sudden shift in place is for the sound of his own washing machine going off in his room and he glances back to Janet with his own variant of a smirk, far less intense but still cheeky.

"Gotta change my own clothes over. If I don't see you again this evening..." The mild prickliness fades and his air shifts back to good-natured chivalry. "Sleep tight, Janet. Sweet dreams." Stepping in, he presses a kiss to her temple and then excuses himself to go deal with wet jeans and sweatpants, sure to be soggy in his arms in his travels to the borrowed dryer.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet smiles despite herself. It's ninety-five percent thrilled happiness and five percent smug satisfaction as she manages to put Steve back on his heels, however temporarily. She watches him leave (though she hates to see him go) and once he's gone it occurs to her to fish for her phone. Facebook's booted up.

"....No, too soon," she says thoughtfully. In a masterful (and rare) moment of self-control she puts her phone back to sleep and goes back to tending her own laundry, humming softly through a contentedly pleased smile.