Owner	Pose
Skye Johnson	The invite list was small. In part because bigger wasn't always better, especially if you were going to debute your newfound social skills.. and partly because Skye really had a limited pool of people she considered close enough to invite. It was probably just as well, as it was, this threatened to test her abilities to the limit. But how hard could spaghetti for a handful of folks actually be? She had beer in the fridge. Snacks in bowls in the living area... Not to mention, the newest additions to her household: A large screen tv, and what looked like a fairly expensive gaming unit besides. There were a few boxes hovering nearby that still needed opening -Skye had only gotten so far before food had to be prepared.. Now to see if she remembered May's instructions. ..and disable the smoke detectors first. Just kidding, Director Fury, those suckers are hardwired into the system.. But she could have disabled hers if she wanted to. Skye has mad skills. The pasta water was on to boil. The chicken was in a dish in the still warm oven, waiting for the garlic bread to be toasted. All that remained were for the guests to arrive. Cue Skye panicking in three.. two.. one..
Darcy Lewis	Darcy could have knocked. She should have knocked. Instead, she thumped the door once before making her way in. "Hey Shitcode," she calls out, kicking the door closed behind herself with out looking. She brought two bags of those pre-made salad mix things.
Melinda May	The door doesn't close behind Darcy, caught by May before it could slam in her face. Seemingly unperturbed by Darcy's single-mindedness, she simply follows the younger agent and reaches to close the door properly. And quietly. She's got a pastry box in one hand, and she carrying it carefully. Likely means the contents would not do well if the box were tipped over or shaken. Still following Darcy like a nearly-silent shadow, she waits for a moment to put the pastry container into the fridge.
Clint Barton	Clint comes out of the bathroom with wet hair, dressed in jean and a t-shirt and a towel flung over his shoulder. "Hey, Skye, did you get the system hooked up or did you want me to do it?" he asks. Not that she couldn't but she had a kitchen meltdown to manage. Stepping into the living room he spots Darcy and May, "Hey," he greets them tossing the towel back down the hall in the direction of Skye's room. "Give you a hand with that, May?" he offers about the box.
Skye Johnson	Skye peeks her head out of the Kitchen. "Yo, Glittertits, did you hear of knocking... oh Hi Agent May. Make yourselves at home. I've got beer in the fridge. Decent stuff. And some wine. No worries, it's decent stuff this time, Agent May. I went to the actual wine store to buy it.." Something in the kitchen starts beeping furiously and the young woman curses, "Oh fuck, that's gonna burn.. where'd I put the effing things you use to pick up hot shit. Oh for fuck's sakes.. I just had them.." "Hey, Clint?" Skye peeks her head out again, "Can you hook up the.. oh, heh. Yeah. I've got shit bubbling over all over the place in here. Make yourselves at home." And back into the kitchen she goes.
Darcy Lewis	"Of course I've heard of it. I've even got a pair of knockers, thank you. Just figured, since you knew I was coming," Darcy starts before glancing behind her as Skye greets- "May! Holy fuck. Where'd you come from?" And then it's back to Skye. "Oh. Sure. Bitch at me for not knocking, but not a word for May back..." Clint... towel over a shoulder... fresh from a shower. Darcy.exe is not responding. Blink - reboot. Darcy drops the shopping bag of salad kits and teh two bottles of Olive Garden House Italian dressing (because that's shit is the fucking bomb and everyone else can STFU about it) on a flat surface out of the way so she can rush into the kitchen to try to help. She's not helpless in here. College dorm days, living with an astrophysist way more helpless than this in the kitchen, and then the bachlorette life added with May's 'You Know Learn To Cook, Grasshopper' moments all combine to give Darcy some clue as to what to do. Missing oven mitts? Kitchen towel. "Whacha got going that needs doing, Skye?" she asks. Darcy Lewis, Ready To Help!
Melinda May	"No thank you, Clint." While Darcy had a momentary brain lockup over Clint's presence, May seems completely unfazed. Maybe she was already aware of something? Or maybe she's just that Vulcan. Difficult to tell. Also stepping into the kitchen just long enough to tuck the pastry container into the fridge, she goes back to rescue the salad bags as well. It sounds like the food isn't entirely ready, after all. And, there is no way in hell she's getting roped into helping set up a TV and sound system and all that cabling BS. She helped one person once with that. Never again.
Clint Barton	Clint notes Darcy's reaction, but before he can say anything he's tasked with setting up the game system. "You got it, keyboard, try not to burn the place down, huh?" he teases before moving to mess with the wires and cables.
Skye Johnson	"Hey, Hotshot," Skye calls after Clint, "You just see how you do with the electronics, and then we'll just who laughs at who. Besides, I still have ramen noodles if all else fails." Really, the kitchen was doing /almost/ fine until the pasta water boiled at the same time the buzzer went off telling her to put the galric bread in, but she couldn't find the oven mitts (they're in the fridge, btw), and the sauce was now burbling over making hiss*pop noises as the hot liquid gets hotter. and the cheese, bread, and garlic spread are sitting next to the uncut bread. "I..." Skye shakes her head at the impending implosion of her kitchen. "Remember why I don't cook. Help?" Darcy and May are given helpless looks.
Darcy Lewis	A quick assessment, and a kitchen towel found, Darcy goes to pull the chicken out. "Dump the noodles in. You have noddles, right? I mean, if you don't have spaghetti noddles, you could totally use ramen too. Just, don't add the seasoning packs." Darcy Lewis, occassinally Iron Chef Ramen, is reachign into the oven to rescue the chicken with the kitchen towel so the meat can rest. Then she'll get hte bread prepared for ovenness. "May? Can ya deal with the salad crap?" Darcy asks, without seein ghtat May's already headed that way.
Melinda May	May hands Darcy the oven mitts -- cold out of the fridge -- and moves to deal with the 'salad crap'. Somehow she also seems to know where the different food containers are kept, and gets out a large plastic bowl with a lid. One bag of salad and a generous amount of the italian dressing, and it's only a matter of moments before the salad is neatly tossed and evenly coated with the dressing. "You did remember to buy pasta, Skye?" Darcy's right, though. Ramen noodles work just as well.
Skye Johnson	Deer. In Headlights. Pasta. She did remember to buy pasta, didn't she? That was on the list, wasn't it? Wasn't it?!? Skye mentally backtracks through her day and comes up... short a bag of pasta. "This is where I lie and say it's in the other room and go barricade myself in the bedroom," Skye mutters. Great. Everything.. but the pasta. Worse? She had used up the last of the bag May had brought 'practicing' for this dinner. It had even been perfectly cooked. She'd thrown some butter on it and eaten it that way.. Yesterday. "No. I did not remember to buy pasta. Ramen it is." Which makes the young woman grin wyrly, "Ten bucks says the cute one in the livingroom has something snarky to say about it when dinner is served." She and he may have an ongoing conversation about instant ramen noodles goinng on. Skye opens one of the larger drawers and starts pulling out packages of intant ramen. A lot of packages of instant ramen. The drawer, wide and deep, is full of them.
Clint Barton	"Ha-ha," Clint laughs. "I can totally hook this thing up. It's not like I have to hack into the thing." He looks at the thing, just wires and putting them in the right spots. Sort of like defusing a bomb but backwards. No problem. He takes care of that, checks the signal and it works. Then all he has to do was unpack the game and that big plastic guitar and other instruments in the boxes next to the TV. "How's it going in there?" he calls into the kitchen sounding smug.
Darcy Lewis	OH! Cold oven mitts? Darcy's reach for the hot chicken pan is arrested by May's saving grace. The chill has Darcy smiling. "I'm stealing this idea. chilled oven mitts. Fuck yes," rambles Darcy as she gets the chicken out of hte oven and on the back burners of the stove for later. "You've got a cute i nthe living room? I demand to see it without a shirt," Darcy retorts as the chicken's settled and a bread knife is found to cut. Then buttered and soem garlic on it and cheese. Oh crumbley cheese!! "We're fine, Sugartush," Darcy calls out before Skye can. Because Reasons.
Melinda May	Salad dealt with, May then moves to help Skye start unwrapping -- and setting aside the flavor packets -- of ramen to cook. She also reaches past Darcy to give the sauce a stir. It would just be SO easy to shoo them ALL out of the kitchen, but this is Skye's place and Skye's rules, so she won't do that unless asked. Darcy's reply to Clint earns her a briefly raised eyebrow.
Skye Johnson	"Yes, everything's fine in the kitchen," Skye minces under her breath as she furiously opens ramen packages, throwing the spice packets back into the drawer. The wrappers are uncermoniously tossed into the sink. Kitchen maven, she is not. "I have a couch, Hotshot," Skye calls out ever so sarcastically sweetly, this time loud for Clint to hear. "We are so not talking about this. If he asks, I accidentally dumped the pasta straight into the sink. Lie through your teeth." She gets the last of the packets open and stares at the pile of lonely uncooked ramen on the counter, then flicks her gaze over to Darcy, grinning. "Yes, I have a cute in the livingroom." Lips pursed over a smirk. "You trying to suggest I can't get a man? He has a name, though Sugartush isn't bad. Almost makes me wish I'd thought of it." Of course, Skye is inordinately fond of the 'Hotshot' that replaced 'Asshole' when she'd decided maybe she liked a certain Clint Barton. May's help is given a small sigh of relief and a mouthed 'thanks'. At this point, the woman isn't really sure how you salvage the meal - after all, no pasta?, all they're having is chicken on garlic bread, topped with sauce. "How long do you cook ramen?" Because, of course, Skye only ever makes it in a coffee mug. Hell, she'd only recently discovered she /had/ other dishes. Which reminds her: colandar. That's scooped out of the cupboard and thrust into the sink. Phew, that crisis averted.
Clint Barton	Snorting at Darcy's reply, he shouts back, "Don't give Skye ideas, she already has enough nicknames for me," he says laughing. Skye's reply is met with, "Is that a hint?" he asks, plunking himself down on the couch and busying himself with the game stuff.
Darcy Lewis	"Does one refer to Little Barton?" Darcy fires back. Because her first reply only got a raised brow from May, and Darcy's night is never complete until she gets the full Imma-mess-you-up-with-a-qtip look. "You have a couch, but have you broken it in?" is asked of Skye next. Because if this means what she thinks it means, then Skye must be teased mercilessly prior to being hit on in front of said BF. Because Darcy must aim for awkward. "Answer honestly, and I swear the pasta thing will stay between you, me, May, and the oven light. Because I'm totally suggesting you could possibly get either man or woman if you played your cards right, but that you are typically too focused on your tameguchi or whatever to notice," she quips as the bread gets put into the oven. "Umm... I go until it looks done. May?"
Melinda May	Scooping the ramen packages out of the sink to make space for the colander, May very quickly deposits them in the trash. "If he asks, the pasta is called Fusilli Lunghi Bucati," she tells Skye quietly enough to not carry into the living room. "And it only needs to boil for three minutes. Ready?" She picks uphalf of the ramen bricks they just unwrapped, ready to drop them into the water. "Behind you, Darcy." In other words, don't back up or you'll run into someone. "And just until the butter's melted."
Skye Johnson	Skye snorts at Clint's reply, "Only if the monkey arms fit, Hotshot." She nods to May's instructions. "Fusilli something Bucks.. got it." Right. She's got it. She'll lie. Some fancy assed package from Little Italy. It'll work. Hell, he probably didn't know what Ramen looked like anyway. DArcy gets a short laugh, and perhaps just a little too much of a pause before Skye answers, very carefully, "I can say with complete authority that my couch remains unsullied." Though she has to laugh, "And it's a laptop, Glittertits, not a Tamagutchi. What have you got against my gack anyway? I'm the one sleeping with Little Barton out there. You wish. Like in your dreams." Skye blows Darcy a kiss, while nodding to May. "Yeah. Ready. Let's make Fusichi Buckstop Lungo." Oh, the butchering is real.
Clint Barton	The mic, the drums, the keyboard and the guitar are all unpacked. Peering into the kitchen, Clint decides to make a run for the fridge, "No, can't say that any of them are," Clint replies to Darcy as he raids for a beer. "Yes, I can confirm that couch remains unsullied," he says as he comes back up with a beer. "Any for you ladies?" he asks, before closing the door.
Darcy Lewis	Darcy regards Skye, moving carefully to the side at May's warning. "Damn shame. You should fix that, pronto. Lemme know if you need tips, vibrators, clamps, or thongs. Adam and Eve is my little bitch," offers Darcy, ever ready to help a girlfriend out with getting her man in bed.... or sofa. "Laptop, Pokemon. Whatever. What i've got against it is that it makes ya miss some things, but you're right. You're riding the arrow shaft out there. So, I'll hafta congratulate him on being more interesting than Facebook." Darcy leans back on a free counter space so Clint can scoot by, lips grinning as she shakes her head. "I'm disappointed in you, Barton. As good as you were in getting your balls into holes last time we went out for drinks, I figured you'd have pinned her to the couch, a wall, the table, something," she quips while nodding and holding a hand out for a beer. Gimme!
Melinda May	Okay, that's quite enough of that. May shoos Darcy out of the kitchen by prodding her between the shoulderblades so she'll follow Clint and they can both drink their beers OUT of the way. Luckily, the ramen was already in the water, so Clint couldn't see the telltale brick-shaped dry pasta. She gives the sauce one more stir, then turns it off to set aside. They're just waiting for the pasta and bread now.
Skye Johnson	Skye snorts at Darcy. "I'll have you know I've been spending plenty of time off of my laptop of late." For probably very obvious reasons. That, and she'd rapidly hit the point where she was second guessing her code. Skye was going to be so glad when this mission was over and she could actually go back to her normal level of daily obsessing. "And for your information, my couch is small. Too small for what you're suggesting.." Ooops, there's Clint. Who is only adding fuel to the fire, but hasn't noticed the ramen. That crisis averted. "I'll take one," she tells him. "And don't let Gittertits there corrupt you." Pointing out to Darcy, "We eat off of that table." Which is an outright lie. She's only eaten off of it once.. There's a smug little chuckle as May scoots Darcy out. "I want him back in the condition you found him in, Darce. He's still mine. Dinner will be in five." A look to May to confirm. Then a peek into the oven to check on the bread. Oooo, they've nearly achieved melted cheese. This looks promising.
Clint Barton	Chuckling at Darcy's suggestions for Skye, he tosses Darcy a beer and pulls two more out of the fridge for Skye and May (if she wants). "C'mon sparkletits, let's go check out the very small couch," he says leading the way out of the kitchen and back to the living room. The couch definitely doesn't look to small, maybe they were just lacking in creativity. "And thanks Darce, I'll keep those ideas in mind. So, what's new with you?" He sinks down on the couch, leaving room for Darcy.
Darcy Lewis	"I promise to just leave him hot and bothered for you. Shitcode. Because I'm a bro like that," Darcy tells Skye with a comforting pat on the back on her way out with Clint. Shoo'ed, Darcy can die happy now. "Sure thing, Sugartush. I'm pretty sure this couch ain't that small. I mean, if you can fuck on an airplane seat..." Darcy lets that trail off as she eyes the not-at-all small sofa. Definitely lacking creativity. Lessons must be given! "Oh, not a whole heck of a lot. Reinventorying now that the field office in Chicago's up and going, so things are busy in that mind numbing sort of way," Darcy says as she takes the seat next to Clint, folding a leg up under herself so she's half facing him.
Melinda May	May nods to Skye's guesstimate of five minutes then calls after the two that just fled with beer in hand, "Set the table please." Then she's directing Skye in the last few steps to finish the meal preparation -- draining the pasta, getting the bread out of the oven, all that good stuff. And it doesn't look considerably worse than the previous attempt.
Skye Johnson	"On a plane?" Skye mutters to herself. "I don't even want to know." She turns to May, "I don't want to know, right? Right. I don't want to know." Not that Skye hasn't a fairly good imagination of her own, but if Darcy was implying Clint had some plane story to share... The last few steps of meal are completed. And, as predicted, ramen worked just fine. It wasn't even overcooked. The noodles nice and firm, and totally plausible as coming from Little Italy. All that really remains is collecting the bits and pieces and putting them on the table, along with the dishes. "Figured we'd all eat in the living room? Check out the new system?" It was totally more Skye's style than dinnnertable fare and talk. And, no, the couch really wasn't all that small. It truly wasn't.
Clint Barton	Clint pauses at the door to the kitchen, "Wait. Shitcode?" he asks giving Skye and Darcy a grin before carrying on talking to Darcy. "Do tell." The airplane seat thing is noted, "Haven't tried that one, straddling or kick the armrests out of the way and just go for it on the whole row?" he asks, yeah, bad idea to let these two get talking. "And between you and me the couch totally works for that, but I've got long arms and legs, and I figured, fuck it, there's a bed next door." See?! The stuff about Chicago is noted, "Go up there or just ship shit?" he asks before dropping his voice and asking, "Clamps? I mean what do you even do with those?" he asks off of one of Darcy's earlier suggestions to Skye.
Darcy Lewis	"Because she's the shit, and she codes. Also, because it's funny to me to think that it'd makes people think she's crappy code. Not that I'd have two nuts to know what I'm looking at with what she does but... I'm sure she's The Shit at Code, otherwise, why have her. Amirite?" Darcy says into that prompt to tell about the nickname. A swig of beer is taken as Clint asks about the plane ride. "No? Dude. Losing respect for your junk by the second here, Barton. May have to charge you by the session to teach you a thing or forty." Darcy pauses for another drink, only for May to order the table be set... adn then Skye ix-nays it and Darcy settles back down to chat. "Depends on occupancy and airplane type, I guess. Over night flights, window seat, skirt and a blanket. Straddling's the way to go. But this couch? Dude. So much. You can have her brace on the back and you're both standing. Or you can get on your knees in front. Cushions make for a cozy place to rest the girls and the back cushion won't break the nose when you pick up speed. Or, you can sprawl out, sitting, and she can straddle, ride facing you or facing the boobtube. Or she can be on her knees... using her mouth to distract you from trying to watch the game. Always a fun one. My best record is two minutes. Then she muted the game." Darcy is way too proud of herself. Beer swigged. "Did a bit of both. Now it's just ship shit and monitor their logs remotely. Gottem trained: Fear the Darcy Visits. Rar." Darcy leans forward, lowering for voice as Clint does. "Nipples." Duh.
Melinda May	The desire to roll her eyes is almost overwhelming. But, May manages to NOT do so. The food's all ready to be served up, and if they're not sitting at the table, she's not going to bother with formalities. Buffet-style service it is. "Food's ready. Serve yourselves." And for the love of pete please stop talking about sex right before dinner. She pulls down plates and bowls gestures for Skye to get the silverware and napkins.
Skye Johnson	Skye gives May a look, "What? I thought it would be nicer to sit casually?" She roots through the drawer where the silverware lives, and pulls out a roll of paper towels from under the sink, tucking it underneath her arm to carry to the table to be set with the rest of the items for dinnner. Then back to the kitchen to help gather up the foodstuffs. Salad - hey, she even found the big fork and spoon for serving that! - in one hand, a pile of plates in the other. "Doo not break my man," Skye warns as she hears tidbits of the conversation the two of them are having on the couch. "But if you're giving lessons, Darce..." Skye waits until Clint turns, just enough to catch his gaze, to give him a saucy little grin before waltzing back into the kitchen for more things, including the wine and beer. There's even a nice wineglass for May. Skye's cupboard surprisingly holds two very nice wineglass; mismatched, of ccourse, but still very nice. The rest of her glasses are just run of the mill came with the place. Only the plates are newer. Well, for some value of newer. They're actually older than the factory installed SHIELD issue, but they're new to Skye. Clearly obtained at some thrift or antique shop, each one is a different from the others, all of fine china. Nothing frou-frou. Understated patterns that lend themselves more to geometrics than floral, even though they are all 'nature' designs. It takes more than five minutes to set things out, making the entire wait closer to fifteen.
Clint Barton	"Ah," Clint says about the nickname. "And I have no idea about any of that sort of thing either, but Shitcode talks a good game about it, and if SHIELD did the whole join us or jail thing with her, she's got to have actual game as well," he says before cracking his beer and taking a swig. "Hey!," he protests. "I get cite lack of opportunity on that one, never flew until I joined SHIELD and then it was all Quinjets full of dudes on the way to do something dangerous. Not my thing." The couch thing, is educational he nods, here and there to ones he thought of and when new ideas are given they seem to be noted. "Two minutes, I figured you could do better than that. But a girl though, that's got to get you extra time, guys, like five seconds in, they'd be 'what game?'" he says as they get back up now to go get the food. On the way to the kitchen he keeps his voice low, "Huh," he says, making a face. "That one's a pass." Skye's look is met with a grin. "Learning lots, Keyboard," he calls out taking his beer to the doorway of the kitchen to wait for the food to be laid out. Smiling to himself about how actually home like Skye's place has become. He remarks to Darcy, "I'm pretty sure she didn't even have plates last week." See May, safer subjects, you're welcome.
Darcy Lewis	"Psshtt. Guys are 'girl in room? what game?'" Darcy remarks to Clint, grinning before smiling at Skye. "Hands on. You two just say when," is offered Before Darcy follows Clint's example (GASP SHOCK HORROR AWE) and moves to safer subjects. Means she'll save clamps for the next conversation with Clint and Skye. "Plates are always good. She's got more than I do, so that's tops right there." See? Very safe.
Melinda May	Letting everyone else serve themselves first, May starts in on her salad after she's settled on the sofa, wineglass in hand and everything. "So, what's this plastic band stuff all about?" She doesn'toffer commentary on the food itself, there's no need. Though she IS still waiting to see if Barton pegs the pasta as ramen and not something italian. She's not going to hold her breath, though.
Skye Johnson	Skye takes a perch on the floor, leaning back on the couch, coffee table pushed forward to provide a staging area in front of the televsion. "It's not plastic band, May. It's Rock Band. You can sing and play instruments to.. well, I got the best of the classics package. Came with the bundle." She shrugs, digging into her not-ramen. "Thought it might be fun to try." Grinning now because of the lot of them, May might not appreciate the hilarity of the activity all that much.