7509/Accepting the Past

Accepting the Past
Date of Scene:	16 May 2019
Location:	Janet's Room - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, and a struggle to communicate thankfully ends in peace rather than misunderstanding. Mostly.
Cast of Characters:	Wasp (van Dyne), Captain America

---

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's one of those people who happily coasts along sleeping when she feels like it, and can as easily be up at five AM to work out as stay out until 5 AM partying. It makes finding her a little unpredictable, but the social-media savvy socialite often leaves bread crumbs in the form of checking in at various eateries and clubs. When Steve gets back into cell range, the last check-in for Janet was a 'quick drink' with a few girlfriends at a bar not far from her penthouse, on the other side of town from the Avenger's Mansion.

She's asleep by ten PM when the door alarm buzzes, and snorts awake with her eyes barely open. Her hand flails through the air twice and smacks the activation button for the display near her bed. She groans and cringes away from the monitor's lights as it comes online, and puts a palm over it to shield her bleary eyes.

"What?" she demand, in a creakily tired, flat tone of irritation. Even if she could see more than six inches in front of her, with her palm over the screen she wouldn't know who's knocking on her door.

Captain America has posed:
"Janet, it's...Steve." His voice comes through the monitor as clearly as if he were in the doorway to her bedroom rather than standing outside of the penthouse's main set. "You were asleep, weren't you? 'm sorry, shortcakes. You wanna go back to sleep? We can talk another time."

With hands in the pockets of his brown leather bomber jacket, the Captain considers the middle distance somewhere off to his right as he frowns, awaiting an answer. By all intents and purposes, he could have steam coming from his ears, he appears to be thinking so hard.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet lurches awake. "Steve!" Her tone does a complete 180, enthusiastic and pleasantly surprised. "Oh, my god! You're back-- no, no, c'mon in! I just, uh..." She looks around her rumpled covers, the cocktail dress on the floor, and makeup that didn't get entirely removed before she bedded down. "Gimme a minute, I just need to throw something on."

Janet puts in a couple of eyedrops and scrambles off the bed towards her closet, shedding her camisole and comfortable flannel pajama pants as she goes.

The door buzzes and *clicks* open for Steve, and her house AI starts bringing lights on in low order to illuminate the living room and the kitchen area beyond it. "Welcome, Captain Rogers," the AI suite says in a flat tone. "Please make yourself comfortable."

Janet wriggles into a thin red sheathe of a silk nightgown, and stands in front of her mirror draping it and wriggling around. She belts a black kimono-style robe around her hips and fusses with it until she deems the end effect to be suitably 'carelessly provocative', and daubs just a bit of lipgloss in place before making sure her hair looks tousled but not cowlicked.

She steps into low-heeled red slippers and peeks once around the door before walking out onto the balcony that leads to her suite. Fingers rest on the bannister and she tucks one knee across the other in a model's pose, fist resting on the emphasized curve of her hip. "Welcome home, soldier," she calls down to Steve. "Did you miss me?"

Captain America has posed:
"No hurry," replies Steve before he hears the monitor's connection drop out. Blowing a hard sigh and rubbing behind his ear as he stands out in the hallway, he only opens his eyes again when the front doors disengage their locking.

"Thank you." The habit of gratitude towards JARVIS lingers as he addresses the AI upon entry to the penthouse. He meanders over towards the living room area at a slow, distracted pace, mind still at least half a city away by the look of him. By the time Janet appears, the Captain's got a hip resting on the arm of the sofa. He's counted the grommets of his combat boots enough time by now - ten up one side, ten down the other, twenty in total, guess he still double-knots after all these years.

Her voice brings him up from his fugue state and she won't miss how he's openly affected. Blue eyes go wide and his mouth drops visibly even as pink crests his cheeks. Steve swallows down the brief flutter of his heart in his throat.

"You're a sight for sore eyes, shortcakes," he replies, voice rough in places. Something flickers through him fast enough to be missed. "I did miss you." Rising to his feet, he walks over to the base of the staircase to await her descent, his hands emerging from his pockets to be taken or perhaps as the precursor to a hug.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet rests her hip against the bannister railing and eases her weight forward, sliding down the rail sitting sidesaddle pretty as a picture. A nod to her expensive design taste-- the railing is a smooth piece of wood lacking any visible joints or seams, and she punches off of it at the last moment to leap clear and land on Steve.

As she always does, it's a flying leap with an utterly committed faith that Steve won't drop her. She lands with one knee braced against his ribs for purchase and her opposite ankle hooking behind the edge of his dorito-shaped back, nearly balanced on his upper chest. Janet holds Steve's face in both hands so she can lean down and kiss him soundly. Fortunately, the Winsome Wasp is petite enough not to throw Steve's back out in the process.

"Ooh, I never get tired of hearing that, soldier boy," she admonishes Steve, and breaks long enough to tousle his blonde hair and make eye contact through a smouldering, nose-to-nose grin. "Did you bring me anything exotic? Dutch chocolates?" she guesses. "African herbal tea? A T-shirt with all the city information redacted?" She interlaces her fingers behind Steve's neck and beams at him hopefully.

Captain America has posed:
Of course the wee fashionista is caught, her faith upheld, and Steve has a second to curl a grin before his lips are firmly taken. He inhales through his nose as his heart does its usual pitterpatter against his ribs -- god, her perfume is always on-par -- and when they come up for air, he appears mildly dazed as always when on the receiving end of such confident displays of affection.

The haze is only temporary. Realizing what she's implying, he considers, for a microsecond, at telling a white lie...or perhaps the truth without the totality of it. But only for that split-second that flickers in his true-blue eyes. Instead, he sighs, one arm comfortably about her lower back and the other tucked beneath her rump. She's featherweight, after all.

"Nothing but a story this time, Janet." He tries smiling. It works...a little.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet laughs and resettles her weight, resting her rear on the cradle of Steve's arm and locking out her elbows so she can look down at him. "A story? It had better be a really *good* story." She 'ohs', then reaches up and pinches his left earlobe. "*That* is for not remembering to text me that you were going silent for a mission," she admonishes him with an ire that is about 1/20th as potent as her happiness that Steve's returned. "But, I'm feeling like I'm in a charitable mood, so..." She bites her lower lip at him impishly. "I might be persuaded to forgive you. Maybe. If you work for it." A fingernail comes up and taps the tip of Steve's nose, once.

Captain America has posed:
Steve winces a little at the pinch and his smile fades, but he doesn't put the fashionista down just yet. Instead, he begins meandering over towards the kitchen now, stepping smoothly as not to jostle her.

"See...the thing is, Janet..." That's not a good start, and he knows it, given the frown graven on his face aimed not at her, but somewhere on her sleeve. Turning the corner, he makes to set her upon the countertop gently. "You gotta listen, okay?" he asks, plainly.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet squeaks and laughs as Steve turns and carries her towards the kitchen. He's given a speculative look that turns a little red-cheeked and impish when he moves to set her on the countertop. "Listen? Really? Is *talking* really what's on your mind?" she asks.

She *eeks* when cold marble presses to her thigh, and with a wide-eyed expression of alarmed amusement, tugs her robe around so she's sitting on it instead of the cold countertop.

"Okay, I'm listening. Kind of. Mostly." She rests her palms on the countertop behind her hips, elbows braced out, and gives Steve a look of wholly devoted attention that utterly fails to look penitant about being a little distracted by his presence as opposed to impending storytime.

Captain America has posed:
Her inability to at least verbally prove she's paying attention is enough to garner a weak half-smile from Steve. It turns almost...guilty quickly enough and he takes the small number of steps backwards to lean upon the opposite counter. Arms aren't folded, but his hands go away into the pockets of his bomber jacket.

He blows a sigh and rubs behind his ear, eyes downcast briefly. "'kay, gonna start..." His lips press into a thin line. "'m gonna take you back to when you talked to Bucky. You went and spoke to him in the Triskelion, in the cafeteria. He told me that he mentioned somebody to you." A beat. "Peggy. Peggy Carter. This ring a bell?"

This seems like a safe-enough start.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Peggy Carter. Ex-girlfriend Peggy Carter?" Janet's brows lift and a bit of the playfully flirtation tone slips from her voice. Her posture also changes very subtly and becomes less alluring as it moves to 'neutral'. At least he's not in the Danger Zone of Janet's waspish insecurity yet, as she trusts him enough to let him get to the point.

"Yeah, I remember her. Him, I mean, mentioning her." Her eyelids flicker in a speculative narrowing at Steven, and when he doesn't prove to be telling a joke she straightens her back a bit. "Where are you going with this?" she asks, warily.

Captain America has posed:
Color shows at Steve's cheeks at Janet's mis-assignment of the agent. Still, he eyes her and the subtle shift in her posture without changing much of his own. If anything, he tries to pull little tricks he learned from his time interrogating people: relax, friendly body language, no folded arms or ankles. It takes him some effort to bring his hands out of his pockets, but he does lean palms on the edge of the counter now, fingers curling loosely around it.

"Listen," he repeats quietly, a note of entreaty in his voice in response to her concern. "Something...happened at SHIELD." Emotion drains out of his words until they become crisp as graphite on paper, a report rather than a story -- a shield against emotional coloring. "Buck and me and another agent were rearranging boxes of files. Buck touched something he shouldn't have, a device from the 1970s, something Howard Stark created - Tony's dad is Howard. It flashed when the electricity arced from it to Buck's arm and..."

He runs a hand down his face without thinking. "She came forward in time. Peggy. She's here now, with SHIELD. That's where I was, dealing with that."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's flighty, incorrigible, and keeps teasing at Steve's leg until the emphatic /listen/ is directed at her. The Wasp blinks. Steve rarely uses that note of command in his voice with her, even if it's said at a perfectly normal tone, and she sits quietly as he starts explaining.

Her legs go limp and dangle off the edge of the counter, and her palms rest in her lap and twist into one another. She tries to start. Stops. Gathers her words. Eyes lid in confusion and she shakes her head twice, her words almost overriding Steve's last syllables. "No, Steve, you're-- that's crazy, honey," she tells him. "Peggy's gone. Time travel? C'mon, what's *really* going on?" she asks, putting a palm at the join of his shoulder and collarbone, and nudging him so he has to look at her face.

Her incredulous expression fades with the blood draining out of her face. Steve's grim expression speaks volumes more than it should. "You're... you're not messing with me, here," she says, weakly. More to say it aloud than expecting a response.

She falls silent. The only sounds for a few moments are the ticking of a refridgerator coil and the constant low hum of the house's power matrix.

Captain America has posed:
"I wouldn't lie to you, Janet." The Captain's voice sounds both human and alien against the backdrop of the house's ambient noise. His hand rises to rest overtop her own, so small in his as he takes it and holds it. She'll feel the finest trembling in his grip, gently firm as it is.

"Wouldn't lie to you," he repeats with a subtle emphasis. "I dunno what Howard's device really is or did, but..." Steve falls silent for a few hollow heartbeats. "I thought she was gone too. Never brave enough to go...go and see her tombstone...or if she even had one." It's a heavy admission from the man who regularly charged tanks -- still does, situation depending. "But she showed up 'nd now, it's..."

He swallows. "She isn't my ex-girlfriend." That, at least, must be clarified by him, brittle as it sounds. His gaze rises to meet and hold her jade-green eyes as he squeezes her hand. "Never had a chance with her. Plane went down 'nd...that was that," he finishes in a near-whisper.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's hand reflexively turns and fingers clamp down on Steve's hand. She looks... shocked, more than anything. Not even at the presence of a long-dead woman in Steve's life, but the subtle trembling in his hands.

A handful of emotions flicker across Janet's face. A dangerous game, playing emotional roulette with the capricious fashionista, particularly where it involves another woman horning in on her 'territory'.

It lands on something pained and sympathetic, and then her hands are sliding around Steve's shoulders to hug him close. She brings his brow over to rest on her collarbone. Cool fingers press to his neck, then his cheek and forehead to try and reassure him. "Oh, baby. It's okay," she soothes, squeezing with her knees and hands. "It's okay, it's so okay," she whispers, until it just becomes a mindless mantra of soothing noises. Giving Steve a few moments to just... exist with the emotions he's clearly struggling to grapple with.

Captain America has posed:
The soldier doesn't fight her. If anything, she'll be able to feel the resonating quiver that runs through his steeled spine when she finds he wraps arms around her. Those broad shoulders shudder hard once. His throat rises and falls against the warmth of Janet's skin, scented with her lotion and soft unlike his own. Fingers clutch at the satin robe beneath them and scrunch up the fabric without tearing it or catching blunt fingernails.

A minute passes. Maybe two. His voice is heard again, muffled by the press of his forehead against the side of her neck. "She looks the same, Janet. Same as I last saw her. Thought I was seeing a ghost when she showed up." The words come roughly, haltingly. "Seeing her, it...I felt like I was in two places at once. Felt something tear inside of me." His fists clench tighter. "Reminded me that...that I can't go back. Can't fix it. 's'all broken."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet nods, not understanding but in empathy. She frets her lip and her eyes screw shut while Steve's head rests on her shoulder. Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit, and she presses her face against his temple. A little moisture glimmers near her eyes, her possessive little soul flaring with mixed jealousy and sandness. Sadness for Steve's pain, jealousy that yet another part of his life has surfaced with which she can have no part.

But mostly sympathy, and she strokes his neck and collarbone until he straightens up with his heart on his sleeve and a miserable expression on his face. The room's quiet again as they absorb the reality adjusting around them, and she rests her hands on Steve's in her lap.

"Steve, let me ask you something, and I need you to be *very* honest with me," she inquires. She waits until she has his attention on her face. "I'm still the prettiest, right?"

It's an utterly inappropriate question, spoken with a tone of overexaggerated self-centeredness, and the only thing that probably saves it is that when Steve looks at her, she bites back an impish smile in a way that utterly fails to hide a playful glitter in her damp green eyes. Janet's not blind to her self-centeredness, of course, and throws herself under the bus in an attempt to break the confusion and tension in the room. The socialite's narcissism, after all, is one of the few constants in their relationship, and if anything has been the larger of the third wheels to pop up recently!

Captain America has posed:
The hangdog expression lingers as Steve does emerge from the pleasant dark warmth of his closed eyes and the fashionista's soothing hug. He looks down at their hands again, his intertwined with hers in contrast overtop the fall of black and red satin, and his lips scrunch to one side as the memory of golden rings not his own takes him through the heart once again. It doesn't hurt as much, this time, but it lingers in a slow burn beneath his ribs.

Her questioning words bring him up almost for air. There's a wariness within his regard, as if waiting to be subject to the mercurial sting he can normally shrug off. However, Janet catches him completely off-guard. His mouth drops open in juxtaposition to the lift of his brows. Frankly, he boggles at her for a second, looking through her face for other more hidden tells of sudden boomeranging emotion.

"Wha -- " the Captain splutters before he laughs once...looks mortified about it...and gives up anyways, his smile crooked. "I'll tell you the truth: you're still a sight for sore eyes. These eyes here," the man emphasizes before his voice drops quieter. "And when I look at you...it feels like home."

The smile fades as he shifts gears, needing to be certain of her. "Be patient with me for a bit, Janet. 'm gonna need time to figure things out. 's'like...somebody ransacked my bunk and overturned it all and stuff's gotta be put back."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet smiles (a lot of it in relief) when the joke sticks and cracks the ice in the room. Steve's laughter is as precious as his mortification, and she rests a palm on his collargbone for balance and pats his cheek with her other hand and an expression of adoration.

The comment about 'home', of course, turns her a rather encarnine shade of red from neck to ears, and she gives Steve a bashful, almost shy look up through her lashes. But then he goes and starts talking about 'time' and 'bunk' and she's already shaking her head at him before he's even done.

"No," she says, firmly, and rather pointedly her legs snake up and she crosses her ankles behind America's ass to keep Steve from drifting away from her. Her hands, still cool and reassuring, press fingers and the back of her hand against his neck and cheek with what dim empathic instincts Janet possesses. "Nu-huh. None of that soldier boy, 'I'm gonna go cry this out in the woods' thing," she says, firmly. "We're gonna talk this out, and I'm going to be there to *help* you talk this out," she insists. "This-- this is what couples do, Steven," she says, using his name deliberately to get his attention. "They hold each other up and help get through things. You can't just... drop me off the side when you've got too much emotional baggage." There's a beat and she presses her lips into a frustrated line, *knowing* she's not making her point well and struggling to find the words.

"Please, let me *help* you," she says, with a little burst of empathetic appeal.

Captain America has posed:
The backlean of disengage, subtle as it might have been on Steve's part, is stopped by the locked feet at the small of his back as well as the fashionista's appeal. More pink appears on his ears as she seems to know the majority of what he intended to do: disappear to go lick wounds that no one else understands. He watches Janet struggle and his features begin to twist up as well; he knows better than to try and put words into her mouth, much less anyone else's.

"'m not gonna stop you trying to help, Janet -- but I need you to understand that I'm gonna need time to think. I can't..." He too grapples with the flickerflash-fast run of his mind before his tongue can even keep up. "I dunno if there are even words for what I want to explain or how to make it make any sense."

Reaching up, the Captain takes her hand and holds it between his own. Without dropping her eyes, he dips his head to kiss her knuckles. "Trust me and gimme time to think, Janet," he asks quietly, his heart still bare upon his sleeve.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Steve, I trust you entirely," Janet tells him. "I love you. Nothing's changing that."

She slides her arms around his shoulders and interlaces her fingers behind his neck. Then, pointedly, legs and arms squeeze a little. "Which is why I'm going to give you all the time you need to think, but I'm going to stay with you the entire time you're doing it," she says, with a firm tone and a sly smile that makes for a difficult-to-resist assertion.

"Meanwhile." She bites her lips together, glances at Steve's sternum, and tilts her face up to him for a steady regard. Her hand rests on his chest and she examines the indents her nails make against his shirt. "I mean, if you *didn't* bring me back something from an exotic foreign land, maybe there's something -else- you can do to show me how much you missed me...?" She walks fingernails up the slope of his chest and gives him a smoulderingly pointed look.

Captain America has posed:
In which the extremely provocative look deflects from a far more resigned expression from Steve.

"Janet, you're not listening." His chest rises and falls in a deep, deep sigh. "I'll stay the night, but I need you to know that I need space. I love you too, babe, I do. I trust you too. But you're gonna find you have a much happier soldier if you let him wander in the woods now and then." His eyebrows lift imploringly, a small quirk forming above his nose. "Promise me you'll give me some space and time to think."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet exhales and lets Steve go so he can backup, and she wriggles off the counter with a flash of bare leg to stand on her feet. She considers his words, lips pursed, and hugs her stomach while staring at a spot on the floor twenty feet away.

"Okay. A few conditions," she says. "First, no more radio silence. You go on walkabout or whatever, you *text* me beforehand, remind me how pretty I am, and let me know you want some personal time. Second, if you're going to..." She swallows. "*See* Peggy, please, uh... I don't know. Nevermind, conversation for..." She takes a deep breath and exhales. "Another night."

"But," she says, and turns to pick at his sternum with a fingernail to get his attention. She looks up at Steve, automatically leaning against him. "Promise me that *if* you go wander the woods, you're always going to come back to me. That way I'm not just... waiting for you to never show up again." She plucks at his shirt and her eyes drop away, clearly trying not to show how very deeply it wounds her to even consider such a possibility.

"Anyway. I'm gonna go make up the bed and I'll see you there in a minute." She pats his chest again, and then stands on her tippy-toes to kiss Steve's cheek and walks away to head up the stairs, and give Steve his space to think.