9550/It's Only Fractured! And Put Some Ice on that Burn.

It's Only Fractured! And Put Some Ice on that Burn.
Date of Scene:	12 October 2019
Location:	Steve's Room, Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	Steve and Janet discuss the fallout of being through with the immediate dangers of the Sentinels.
Cast of Characters:	Wasp (van Dyne), Captain America

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Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
For the Avengers, the fight with Bastion had been a solid victory. Like any good victory, in the process of earning it, the team had picked up a few scrapes and bumps along the way. Tony had gotten his bells rung quite severely, and Janet managed to accumulate some painful new burns on her left hand and forearm. Nothing traumatic, but the result is an elbow-length mitten coldpack that keeps her skin suspended in a pale blue analgesic gel while the skin heals.

Much of the rest of the wounds were largely superficial, which is why Janet sits patiently on a chair in Steve's suite, face turned up to the light while he daubs medigel on some of the scrapes and contusions on her heart-shaped face. Her black-and-gold unitard has been swapped out for a kimono style cotton robe in the same blue as a summer sky.

"I totally get brownie points, right? For heroically saving my boyfriend from robot monsters?" she teases Steve. Her fingernails wander around his midsection while he tends her wounds; attempting to distract him in other ways.

Captain America has posed:
Steve admittedly has to carefully apply the medical gel with his fingertip one-handed. The other arm is in a sling and he still moves carefully, winces appearing in little lines at the corners of his eyes. A fractured collarbone is nothing to sneeze at and his options are either to behave himself and continue on low-grade painkiller (for his super-soldier physiology, at least) or be more heavily dosed and confined to bedrest for a day.

Ew. Bedrest.

"You do get brownie points, yes, for pulling the trigger on a big gun while the rest of us did our thing," he says, dimpling to one side. "Janet, easy." Being ticklish is a bad combination with the sling-worthy injury. He makes a quiet grunt before blowing a sigh.

"I know there's that urge to make sure 'm alright in all facets, but I gotta mend up before we get to that." He still gives her a lop-sided smile as he pulls away and carefully caps the small tube of ointment.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet pouts as she's scolded. But a cracked collarbone is nothing to sneeze at, and the thought that she's causing Steve pain by forcing him to flinch chases her fingers away from his stomach. She twists them in her lap instead, fighting the urge to tease at him again.

"Spoilsport," she chivvies Steve. "But if your shoulder boo-boo hurts too much, I won't make you over-exert yourself." Her eyes flickering teasingly. "Much," she says, unable to resist the urge to add that amendment.

She rises and gestures for Steve to take her vacated seat, and reaches for the ointment herself so she can treat some of his smaller wounds. "I just can't believe it's over. Bastion's gone. That crappy robot copy of me permanently on ice. Seems like we've been chasing Bastion and his robot goons forever."

She pauses. "Someone should probably nudge Thor and ask him not to indulge Hulk too much. That got a little... gory."

Captain America has posed:
"It's a relief," the Captain admits in a quiet sigh. He grunts as he settles back into the chair recently occupied by Janet and blows out more air as the angle of painless recline is found. There's a solid scalp wound all stitched up behind his ear, so the ointment will go best spread across the abrasion from jawline to temple sure to bruise on the 'morrow -- and maybe a little on his split lip, but that's better left alone. Otherwise, the spangled stealth suit spared him from worse puncture and slashing damage.

"'nd I intend to speak with Thor, yes, no worries. Though If I ever see another clone of you again, I'll have to go jump off a bridge. That was..." Steve slowly shakes his head as he holds her gaze. "...never again."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Mm. We'll have to figure out some kind of trigger or code word or something," Janet suggests to Steve. She tilts his head towards the light and starts daubing at it with a thin layer of the medigel. "Yeesh, you gotta stop blocking things with your head, honey," she mutters at the soldier.

"If I ever see a clone of me again, trust me, I'm going to start by going in one of her ears and out the other. Which is weird, right? In all the movies, people meet their clones, or themselves from the future, and they all get along great. It's probably because she was such a lousy imitation. She even looked goofy," Janet huffs. "Honestly I can't believe she fooled anyone."

Captain America has posed:
"I didn't try to block anything with my head, I was ambush by a cyborg," argues Steve half-heartedly. "And lost my helmet in the process. Strap couldn't take the torsion force. I gotta have R&D look at it." Which is the Captain's way of saying his neck rotated a //little far// for even his own comfort after taking that hit from Sebastion.

He smiles fondly though at the Wasp as she puffs and huffs and grouses about the clone now firmly locked away in some dark hole. "I figured it out," he notes lightly.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Yeah, /eventually/," Janet chides Steve, and tweaks his un-injured ear. "Only took you a few weeks. Even though she was way dumber than me, and nowhere near as pretty." The fashionista sniffs disdainfully at the very IDEA someone could be trying to copy her unique aesthetic!

"Anyway, just..." She sighs, and then shivers and hugs her arms. "Just tell me we're finally out of the woods on this whole thing. No more killer robots in Tony's lab, no more clones, no more Sentinels rampaging through New York. I would love a few months where absolutely nothing interesting happens at all. I'm still trying to figure out who the mastermind was behind my little drama a few months back," she reminds Steve. "We're mostly recovered, but I still want a pound of flesh from /someone/ over this."

Captain America has posed:
Leaning his head back in his chair, Steve gives her a far lazier smile now. Weariness leaks into the subtle slouch of his shoulders and the way one foot slowly extends out beyond her legs.

"'nd yet I figured it out before anybody else did," he reminds the Wasp. "But we're out of the woods. There'll be some clean-up...you know there always is. We tie up the loose ends 'nd then there's quiet for a time while the world recovers 'nd spins on. We'll focus next on the punk who dared try to bring you down, <<seillean>>," he continues before gently patting his thigh. Apparently, as long as Janet doesn't jostle him too hard, she's welcome to sit and lean on the open side of his chest.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's fingers curl into her hipbones and she gathers her robe in front of her. She slides into place straddling Steve's lap, the motion exposing some of her bare, well-toned thighs and their late-summer tan. One hand rests on his sternum for balance, but quickly shifts away before she applies pressure to it. "Oops, sorry," she mutters, and pulls a contrite face.

Janet curls into Steve and rests her cheekbone on his un-injured collarbone, head nuzzling up under his stalwart chin. "And then there'll be somoene after that, and after that," Janet says, with a weary sigh. "God. I've been an Avenger for five years, but it feels like I've been doing this forever. You ever think it's gonna end? Like is there a retirement point down the road or do we just keep doing this until we're too broken to keep going?"

Captain America has posed:
Steve keeps the worst of the flinch under wraps when her palm glances from his collarbone. He knows it's an easy thing to forget -- he includes himself in the mental reminder to be more cautious even as his weight is shifted to better allow Janet to occupy his lap. Once she's settled in place, the warm strength of his arm curls about the outside of her arm in paralleled presence, his palm coming to rest on her hip.

"'s'not about becoming broken. 's'about making sure there's time for others to grow 'nd step up to the plate. The world keeps spinning even when we take vacations." A gentle kiss is pressed to her dark hair. Steve sighs and looks beyond the Wasps' tresses into some middling point in the bedroom.

"Might be a while yet, but we're a team. We've got each other's backs...'nd it's moments like these that make it all worth it." His arm squeezes her gently.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"Mmm," Janet agrees. The murmured vocalization contains a pleasantly drowsy sentiment of agreement. But to clarify, she nods twice and her nails trace an idle circle across one slablike pectoral.

"I know. I know," she amends, and sits upright to look at Steve. Her fingers slide down to rest on his stomach, though they don't make an attempt to tickle him.

"Just days like this, where we put a pin in somone like Bastion, and we're all nursing cracked collarbones and ruined manicures--" she lifts her gel-ensconced left hand. "Feels like, wow, maybe it's time to take a few months off in Martha's Vinyard or something. Go buy a place in the Hamptons and try ... growing... vegetables. Or something. I don't know. Something that's peaceful, I guess. Whatever that is for people." She makes a face. "Gardening. Ecch."

Captain America has posed:
Rather than keep his chin tucked almost curled about the curve of her temple, Steve lifts it and then looks into her face. His lips slowly curl into an amused smile, eyes gone comfortably soft as well, as he watches her wax temporarily poetic about the boons of raising crops.

A soft snort. "<<Seillean>>, I don't have a green thumb. I'd forget to water things half the time 'nd be too busy off talking to the local law enforcement officials because there'd still be problems to fix that need fixing."

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
"I once killed a cactus," Janet counters. Her hands flex and spread helplessly. "I wasn't even the one in charge of watering it. Someone said 'hey, put a succulent in your office, it doesn't need any special care'. Dead as a doornail two weeks later."

She puts her hands behind her head and stretches langorously backwards, knees gripping Steve's legs for stability. A twist of her shoulders produces a *crack* from her lower back. "Oh that's not good," Janet mutters, and narrows her eyes at Steve. "Guess I'm overdue to see the chiropractor."

Captain America has posed:
Carefully, Steve laughs to himself. "Gardening isn't an option then, if you can kill a cactus," he notes even as Janet gets to wriggling about. He sets his feet and tenses his thighs to allow her a better anchoring for her stretching.

"'nd 'm not a chiropractor. See if the med bay can help you out when they take a peek at your hand 'nd arm." He nods towards the sleeve on her arm. "Maybe they'll have something else for your old bones."

Smirk.

Wasp (van Dyne) has posed:
Janet's brows slowly rise towards her mussy bangs and she sets her hands on her hips. "Wow, you really /weren't/ kidding about needing to mend up before getting too frisky. Fine--! it's okay," she tells Steve, in a way that suggests the opposite might be true. She wriggles backwards off his lap and clenches her robe tight. "I guess I'll save my cute new outfit for another night, then. When /someone's/ feeling a little more charitable," she says, with a toss of her head and a supremely haughty sniff. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go change into my flannel jammies, and then we can have a nice, mend-positive, extremely *platonic* night's rest," Janet informs Steve.

With a toss of her head that's a little *too* premptory to be sincere, she sweeps off to the bathroom to get changed, all five-foot-four of her marching along with the dignity of a queen.