139/Operation Wholesome Torture

Operation Wholesome Torture
Date of Scene:	26 February 2020
Location:	Armani on Fifth Avenue, NYC
Synopsis:	Janet leads a shopping adventure with Steve, Lois, and Clark.
Cast of Characters:	Steve Rogers, Janet van Dyne, Lois Lane, Clark Kent

---

Steve Rogers has posed:
The location: Armani on Fifth Avenue in New York City.

The weather: dreary outside, with a glistening of few powder swirling up against the windowpanes and the wind tugging at the coats of passersby beyond the well-lit windows of the high-end clothing store. Mannequins display the wares and darkly-painted shelves showcase purses and pumps, ties and toggled sweaters -- all of a price range to make most wince.

Inside, the place is private and yet airy. Modern racks with tall black bookends provide hangers for fully-completed outfits or single pieces, separated by jurisdiction of masculine or femine, casual or sport. The first floor is separated by an intricate, artistic dream of a staircase in white that curls up like a hurricane to reach the second floor above. Soft music plays not too loudly.

And Steve? Steve is here for support in more than one way. He's along with Janet, of course, but he's also got his hands casually slung in the pockets of his jeans as he watches Lois as well. Oh, and Clark is present, poor sap. Steve, at least, looks all-American with the ambient light shining on his blond hair and off the leather shearling-lined winter coat he's wearing.

"Make you a bet about how long they're going to take to find a purse to match their shoes," he says in an undertone towards Clark, mischief incarnate beneath his innocent expression.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet doesn't shop. She *pillages*. Like a one-woman viking army, sowing destruction and anarchy in her wake. There's an army of people swarming around them almost constantly, darting in to distribute clothing, shoes, and beverages. Janet's personal assistant seems to be directing them towards the two women who are upstairs for a moment, trying on shoes and having, indeed, a fleet of clutches and purses brought to match each one.

"--broke the washing machine. I swear to god, I thought I'd dislocated a hip," Janet finishes muttering at Lois during a lull in the service. She's a bit buzzed on the tall flute of champagne (her fourth), and she lifts a foot up to look critically at a sanguine-red Louboutain stiletto she's wriggled a dark nylon into. "Whatcha think? It's hot, but I think the dark nylons make it look a little trashy," she says. It's more statement than question. Janet's dressed in a twist on a double-breasted navy power suit from the 80s, except it's beter fitting, no shoulder pads, and worn with an indecently plunging neckline and a skirt that would be too short for anyone actually working in an office (unless she owned the business, of course).

Lois Lane has posed:
"It's borderline trashy," Lois Lane says, confidently. She wouldn't lie to Janet, not when it came to fashion. "I mean you could rock it but you'll get the 'She's wearing /that/?!' look from someone if you aren't careful." At least in this case they're talking about shoes and not some kind of skirt. "... unless you were going to some kind of club. You could probably kind of do some weird trashy-classy combo for something?" She's not really /into/ fashion, but she's got an eye for what could look good together. Idly, she glances in the direction of the men, though she's pointedly trying not to look like she's looking.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I feel like ... all of those match," Clark answers Steve uncertainly, feeling and looking entirely out of his depth. He does think they all match fine. He's very easygoing about the whole fashion thing. He did not, at least, wear plaid to this shopping excursion, but he still wears an uneasy and awkward expression throughout. Clark is slumped in a sort of defeated manner; he's slowly caved in during the course of the adventure. Then again, Clark is usually in some form of being a wallflower: which is sort of impressive, given how tall and broad he is if he stood up straight or commanded any presence in the room whatsoever!

"I didn't know you were a gambling type," Clark asks, curious, to Steve, lifting a hand to push his glasses up his nose a little bit more. "Makes me uncomfortable, more often than not, but sometimes a big risk pays off," sighs the mild-mannered reporter. He isn't so cool as to set his hands at his pockets like Steve, he's just kind of /there/. Between his disguise and Steve's, they'll turn invisible entirely soon enough - except that Steve did forget his baseball hat. So maybe not.

"I think it's time to come by the Avengers mansion," Clark says, more quietly, to Steve; his tone has a more firm quality to it, a subtle drop of 'character' to talk business to Steve while they have a moment, maybe.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve had waved off champagne for himself, at least, claiming he had to drive home. In a way, it's true: one of the mansion's cars is parked safely nearby, which makes him the designated driver -- not that the champagne would do a lick of anything, but the public image does factor in to things.

He also isn't privy to what the two women are discussing sotto-voce; too much ambient sound and the hustling of staff means he knows there's a discussion, but not the finer details.

Oh, how Irish blood would out if he could hear it.

The Captain glances away from the Wasp and Lois and their entourage towards Clark, expression mildly curious. "'m not afraid to hedge a bet or two if the odds are in my favor." He falls quiet for a moment and gives Clark one of those momentary keen looks -- knowing and somehow, very minutely amused. It's there and gone, back to the good-natured innocence he wears as public mask.

"Figure it'd be a good time to stop by, sure," Steve replies in that same quiet pitch, far lower than even the ambient sounds around them. "Bet those people on the plane are grateful." He doesn't look directly at Clark, but rather past him and then away, as if the comment wasn't insinuating in the least.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
The pumps are swapped out for the ones Janet entered in, a little too high in the heel and well-made to be the 'regulation' shoes they're ostensibly based off of. "We'll take both the 'keep' piles," Janet informs the manager. It's a pile of clothing that'll take a small truck to deliver to Lois' apartment later. "Arthur will see to it. We're off, darling," she tells her assistant, links arms with Lois to head back towards the brooding fellows they'd left behind.

"I imagine we're done for the day; I think I can hear the boys seething about how long it's taking, from all the way over here," she says. That last is directed at Lois, and Janet rolls eyes and lips aroudn the words to lend them a profound sense of fond exasperation.

The steady click of her heels certainly announces Janet before they're in conversational earshot, and she beams a smile at the duo, then gives Steve the last extra ten-percent of that affectionate expression. "Good lord, I leave you two alone for five minutes and you go all broody," Janet clucks. "Clark, seriously, stand up straight," she says, for the umpteenth time. "Why on earth are you scowling?" Steve's given an accusatory look.

Lois Lane has posed:
Shopping therapy is always a boon and although Lois will have to figure out how to shove all of those articles of clothing in her closet, she's glad for it. As she walks with Janet back to the pair of gentlemen who were so patiently waiting for them, she looks mildly amused as she quips. "Oh, they're just grumpy we didn't pick up anything for them."

Then she realizes what she said and slowly turns her head to look at Janet.

Clark Kent has posed:
"I've heard that," Clark says, with a release of a sigh. There's a smile in his voice. "I help where I can." Yes, that was an admission.

Clark does have champagne. Not because he intends to drink any, but someone handed it to him and Clark is, by and large, an enormous doormat - even MORESO when he's in public, in particular. He even thanked the assistant for handing him the champagne he didn't want. So he's just kind of hanging out with it in his hand, with no rescue from the drink in immediate sight.

Clark shrugs his shoulders some at Steve, maintaining all body language proper to being terribly mild-mannered. It looks like he and Steve are having a terribly boring conversation about nothing, no doubt. Maybe Steve's favorite color, while Clark is indecisive?

Clark isn't scowling; he's too reserved and pleasant for that, clearly. Lois has seen the frowns, of course, but those are private shows of range of emotion often kept at bay! Janet headed their way gets a tiny attempt to unslouch by about one inch, and an adjustment in conversation: "They won't want the rest of the team to react badly, but it's a good time to switch, before the season starts. Not everyone will agree with the trade, I grant that---" SPORTS!

"...I...what?" Clark ends up with asking Lois as she asserts about their grumpiness. No grumps here. He pauses, and extends the champagne, like a peace offering to a goddess. Take pity?

Steve Rogers has posed:
"I wondered." Admission acknowledged quietly. Seeing the pair of women break away from the flock of Armani assistants around them, Steve shifts in place. Good: his feet were starting to wonder about movement. Those combat boots...so comfortable, so well-loved, so counter to the entire meaning of 'Armani'.

The sports allusion is enough to make Steve need to turn briefly around; there was someone entering the store, but he needed to hide the off-chance of a laugh. A cough into his wrist and he turns back in time to be greeted.

Janet gets a lift of eyebrows and Steve briefly glances over at Clark. "I have been told my face might get stuck like that, 's'true," replies the super-soldier to the fashionista in a deliberate, pensive manner. His expression morphs into something more contemplative for a moment before he can't help the smirk. "Hard to brood around here. We were discussing baseball. Can't really condone that Clark's a fan of the Royals, but we all can't have good taste."

The mild-mannered reporter gets a friendly grin with just a hint of cunning.

"But no worries about us," he continues, all polite smiles. "We're content as it stands," the Avenger attempts to demure of Lois's observation. Janet might catch the microtells of the man setting up to flee in the subtle turn of one booted foot, as if he were getting ready to dart out the door and away from the velociraptors in fine clothing -- er, the Armani assistants.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet exchanges that knowing look with Lois and grins merrily at her friend. "Well, not for *them*, but I did pick up something for /you/," Janet tells Steve, pointedly, and disengages from Lois to slide into Steve's personal space and press up against his sternum. Fingers hook into belt loops at his hips and she looks up at him through her eyelashes. It's astonshing how effortless Janet just ... disregards the rest of the world into oblivion for a few seconds. Like she forgets about the duo, or is just so utterly lacking in conscience that it doesn't occur to her it might make them uncomfortable.

"I'll give you a hint: I'm pretty sure I paid $500 for what's mostly just air spun into cloth," she whispers, entirely failing to actually *whisper*. Her chin rests against his sternum and eyes twinkle brightly.

"Oh, but Lois did get this *hot* little black nightie," she says, twisting abruptly away from Steve and looking to her friend. "What did I say? Nothing like black silk, hmm?" she declares with a tone of sotto-voce confidance.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois can't help but laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Janet put on her bedroom eyes. She steps back out of the way, looking a bit sheepish as Janet admits what she, too, bought. "I mean, I'm sure /I'll/ enjoy it." After all, no one else is supposed to see that particular garment, especially not anyone present. Right? Right. Lois quickly takes the champagne glass Clark was holding and downs it.

"Lovely day we're having." She looks out in the direction of the snow flurries.

Clark Kent has posed:
When the public display of affection begins, at first Clark seems okay, just lifting his brows, but then ...Clark promptly looks surprised and more than slightly awkward. Is he supposed to step back? Pretend not to notice? He ends up looking to Lois with a quiet beseech to engage him. When the stage-whisper begins about the cloth being spun, his brows creep up /more/, attempting to meet Lois's gaze.

Which then becomes a horrible idea, seeing as he's looking right at Lois when he learns about her hot black silk nightie, and the poor Kansas farmboy blushes, right on cue. For somebody perceptive, it would not be difficult to spot the way Clark looks at Lois while she looks out the window. And his immediate move to assist her in changing the subject to the day overall. "Successful trip so far, sounds like," agrees Mr. Positive.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Everyone can see that patriotic throat working to swallow in response to the sudden near-weaponized precision of Janet's ability to fluster the Captain at the drop of a hat. Time together notwithstanding, it's a flawless success: there go his ears, pinking and even darkening to the point of reddening. The woes of the artistic and the visual-spatially inclined!

"Seems a lot for air spun into cloth," he manages after he reaches up to rub just behind his neck, huffing a little laugh or two as he looks down at those fluttering lashes. As far as the nightie scored by Lois? The Captain glances over at Clark, still curious enough as to the man's thoughts on matters to briefly ignore how his own neck is heating.

He does spare the city beyond the windows a quick look. Lovely? Lois gets one of those perceptive little smiles, subtle enough to possibly be missed.

"Definitely successful," the super-soldier gamely agrees with a bright note deliberately inserted. "Wasn't there another store to look at? Don't want to linger since we're not here for us as well."

Clark gets a look and the Captain continues, "Figure we can continue ragging each other about the trade. Not everyone's gonna agree about it, but maybe if the manager had a chance to talk with 'em first, there'd be less of a scene." Eyebrows lift. PLEASE, BASEBALL, CLARK, IT'S SAFE WATERS.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh, you boys are good sports," Janet informs the two gentlemen. Steve's tricep is given a pat and a rub that is almost apologetic. "C'mon, there's a place up the street we need to go for suits. It's an atelier's-- and Lois, I am swearing you to secrecy on pain of death," she tells the reporter. "I mean it, if you out this guy's location-- no more shoes!" she says, with a horizontal slash of her hand.

Janet starts tugging at Steve's arm to propel them into motion. "Clark, we're going to get you a suit that doesn't look like you are wearing your dad's jacket," she promises the slouching reporter. "Honestly, it's killing me, Lois is on camera in a JVD skirtsuit look *fantastic* and you're lurking around in a JC Penny special like a plaid-clothed henge," she sniffs. "Not that there's anything wrong with plaid, except you keep managing to find all the very worst examples for it. Lucky for you," she continues, not really waiting for a reply, "I'm both incredibly generous *and* I have a brilliant eye for sartorial innovations, and I know just the guy to get you set up with the right look."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Believe me, Janet, I am pretty good at keeping /really/ big secrets," Lois states, setting aside the empty champagne glass on a display. She's sure an associate will pick it up at some point. "So your secret is safe with me." However, she does give Clark a skeptical look. A suit that fit? Sure, she'd like to see him in that. She gives him a warm smile.

"Trust me, Clark, when it comes to clothes you can't say no to Janet. That's not a turn of phrase. You /can't/." She gives him a consoling pat on the arm. He's doomed.

Clark Kent has posed:
And Lois patted him. It subdues Clark. "Ah, Lois is the stylish one between us, the camera loves her; I've accepted my role here, helping her look good," Clark says to Janet kindly, but with a quick sideways smile to Lois. It isn't a no, and it isn't a yes: it's the usual wishywashy sort of neutral thing one can expect from the wet noodle of personality that usually arrives from the vicinity of Clark - at least, when feeling a little overwhelmed by Janet, maybe!

"We're here to carry bags, was my understanding," Clark says perceptively and teasingly: and in an attempt to dodge getting some kind of makeover. That will not be good for him, most likely, though he's not /too/ afraid. Nobody's suggesting he wear tights. ...Yet.

Clark seizes the baseball topic with some clear relief, but something else in it too. He does care about the baseball conversation, and it seems Steve has found a kindred spirit in their chat about it. "Well-- I agree entirely about the manager. These secret trades disrupt how the team functions as a unit. They need to train well before the season starts. It's last minute trades that wreck a roster. Like the Braves in 2017."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Oh no: the sheer gravity well of Janet's insistence has begun, starting with her firstly inefficient yanking at Steve's arm. She's dating possibly the most stubborn man on the planet -- that he lets out a quiet sigh and smiles to himself speaks volumes to the fact that he's been innoculated against the dislike of being fitted for suits.

One does not date Janet van Dyne and avoid suit-fitting.

"You're not wrong about the Braves." Clark gets a brief point of agreement in his direction even as Steve travels alongside Janet. "If the manager's smart, he'll at least let the team know before the other player shows up, if they show up at all. Whether or not it goes public later is another matter entirely. Tabloids about the sport're just as bad as the ones about Hollywood." The two reporters get a quick little grin from the Captain.

Though to Janet in particular, he says more quietly, "<<Seillean>>, 've got enough suits to fit an army. You really figure one more?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Steve, don't ask silly questions unless you want a silly answer," Janet chivvies him. "All of those suits are from last year," she says, pointedly. "I want to get you in a mandarin collar jacket before Singapore Fashion Week kicks off. Alice Chen has got this *fantastic* concept line all worked out, it's going to be fantastic, we're doing a nod to Asian influences." She raises her voice and looks behind her at Lois and Clark, drifting along in Janet's fast-paced wake. "Lois, you're getting a bunch of qingpaos, so start organizing your dressing room," Janet informs the reporter.

The talk of baseball is met with a tolerant, supplicative roll of her eyes, but with her enormous tolerance and patience, Janet lets the two men discuss their sportsball enthusiasms while they head into a nondescript office building nearby. The elevator attendant seems to know Janet, because she's the only one he doesn't glare at suspiciously as the ancient Otis elevator cranks up the cables to the upper levels.

"Finest atelier in the world," Janet sighs, stepping into the offices. She closes her eyes and inhales, like she's swimming in the scent of old fabrics and sewing machine oil. There is no name on the outer door-- inside, 'Domenico Spano' is printed in flat, black blocks on a doorway.

The office is tastefully understated, with an eye for color over shapes. But understated in the way that clearly emphasizes the leather sofas that cost more than a midsize family car.

"You boys are going to look *so* dapper. Clark, I want to see you in a double-breasted suit before we get out of here. I just have a feeling that's the look we need to go for."

Lois Lane has posed:
"Dressing room? You mean how I've turned my home office from an office into a desk in a corner with my laptop and the rest of the room filled with clothes? Sure, my dressing room, let's go with that," Lois says, not sounding annoyed as much as amused. Dressing people up was what Janet did, and far be it for her to say no to her friend when it benefited them both.

Lois also tolerates the ball talk, mostly because she figures it gives the boys something to do to feel less awkward. They could be speaking lorem ipsum for all it mattered, as long as it gave them piece of mind. She's certainly excited to see the two gentlemen wearing suits, though. If, for nothing else, it was nice eye candy.

It would also be nice to see Clark wearing actual clothes that fit. She hadn't realized the difference between what he wore and what he fit until she'd surprised him at his apartment and now she was /way/ too curious. If he wormed his way out of this...

Clark Kent has posed:
"I continue to be glad I didn't go into sports reporting," Clark admits. "It feels like a tangle of drama almost all of the time. Much like writing for a tabloid," Clark observes. Clark's integrity in his writing his very important to him: to know that his writers read an article under his name and know it is a reflection of that integrity. Clark falls in with Steve about the baseball talk naturally. Clark doesn't have a great deal of friends at all, overall. Just a few close ones; he's a shy man.

"I figure the manager's smart. He's made some good calls before. Safe gambles," Clark decides. He looks on as Steve makes the quiet aside to Janet, but gives no sign if he heard what was said. Clark's good at filtering lots of various audio input. Practice.

"Your apartment is full of clothes? Is that why my apartment is now ground zero for research?" Clark asks Lois curiously. Or maybe she's just amking sure Clark doesn't run into balcony visitors. Probably not an issue...

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Manager's got some experience to him...'nd he's not perfect, but he does what he can. Figure it'll pan out best if he speaks with the team first. A good leader does, regardless of the playing field. Won't ever convince me otherwise," Steve replies to Clark with another quick little smile. "Still...shame you like the Royals so much." Zing.

With a melodramatic cast to his entire person most put-upon, Steve glances over one broad shoulder towards Lois. "You'd better organize," he echoes of the fashionista's intent because it'll probably happen, that whole affair with qingpaos.

Those malleable brows lift when the Captain recognizes the building and then the old-time elevator. Stepping within, there's a reflective manner to how the super-soldier looks about it. Memories crowd around him and almost drown out the present, but for his own efforts to remain anchored in the moment. Last he was in here with Janet on his arm, it had been one of the summer galas that required something light, functional, and sleek as all hell. Spano had delivered in spades, according to many of the big-name fashion magazines.

That, and Steve had grown up in quiet if somewhat resentful awe of the timelessness of the suits. He'd seen them once before the war and here they were again, proof of quality. Old dog, new tricks.

"Mandarin, hmm? I dunno..." Janet gets a fond half-smile as he stands off to one side, comfortable in this environment. His hedging is sheer spunk aimed at the Wasp.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Janet! Carina! Como estes?" A fellow in his seventies steps out of the back room, and with what he's wearing, he looks like he's stepping out of the 1930s. His wheezy greeting is offered with one hand extended, steady as a rock even if the other rests on a cane.

"Mimmo! Como siempre amore, y tu?" Janet takes the hand and gives it a squeeze then steps in and exchanges cheek-kisses with the fellow. There's a few seconds of chatting in fast Spanish-- Janet's noticeably sloppier and with a heavy Bronx-Cuban accent, compared to the gentleman's clipped and precise Italian diction-- and then she turns and makes with the introductions. "You remember my boyfriend Steve, of course," she reminds him. "Lois Lane is a reporter and a girlfriend of mine. This is Clark Kent, her partner. Guys, this Dominoco Spano. He is the best atleier in the world," Janet says, and gives the old fellow's arm a quick squeeze.

"Buona sera, welcome in, any friend of Janet's is a friend of mine," the fellow remarks, and offers Clark a firm handshake and Lois a chivalrous kiss to the hand. "So, you're needing a new suit, are you?" He sizes Clark up with a glance. "Fifty-two inch chest, thirty-six waist, and... inseam around thirty two inch inseam? Stand up straight," he says, in a tone unnervingly similar to the one Janet used.

Lois Lane has posed:
"Not my whole apartment, Smallville. Just the office, which is why I always work in the living room. Easier to get the kitchen, too," Lois points out. "Also your place means I don't have to clean. Or do dishes, so... looks like I've been found out."

But this place... Lois looks impressed. It's one thing to buy suits in a store, this is an entirely different experience. She looks positively delighted. She shifts positions, standing slightly back hopefully not too in view of Clark as he's sized up. She gives Janet a thumbs up, gestures towards Clark and mouths the words 'thank you' with a wide grin. Then she moves into a better position to watch with her arms folded across her chest.

"It's nice to see you're trying new things, Clark. I'm proud of you."

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark accepts the handshake with all the enthusiasm as a waterlogged cat that did NOT want to take a bath, but is just exhausted from the ordeal. And this ordeal has barely even begun. There's a dart of blue eyes from behind thick glasses to Steve in a quick 'I'm doomed' message. It's not all that hidden: the girls may see it too, though they may read it differently than the actual message in it. Clark might just be really self-conscious or shy.

"Not so sure about those measures," Clark demures quickly. WHY say the big chest measure out loud? WHY. "Steve should go first, besides," Clark suggests, kindly, giving the floor to the Captain with generosity. He does, however, straighten up a little bit more. Clark's ...tall, incidentally. He keeps his shoulders curled, though, one arm in front of him, the other bashfully running hand over his other forearm, one knee bent, entirely awkward. His head stays a bit forward, chin down. He can maintain mild-mannered, though the slouch does /help/ - since he's kind of a tower. Still, he has other awkward tools in his kit! His blush is honest and real.

But Lois is proud of him. Well, fiddlesticks. He was about to go into an excuse....

Steve Rogers has posed:
The smile on Steve's lips is good-natured and knowing both as the atleier arrives in his usual convivial manner. He fully turns to face the elderly man in his flawlessly-fitted suit. "Senior Spano," the Captain greets him with a curt nod, his thumbs still slung off his jean pockets. When the combined weight of the fashion moguls' gazes fall upon Clark, however, Steve very subtly takes on a more attentive poise. Uh oh. Standing up straight, well...

"He's right." In a manner enviously self-confident in stark comparison to Clark's bashful appearance, Steve steps into better view. He's not necessarily trying to eclipse the reporter (because that would be impossible with Clark's build, let's be honest), but he does draw attention flawlessly to himself with his good ol' boy smile, dimples and all. "Janet mentioned a timeline for the suit anyways 'nd we're not looking to rush you, Senior Spano. Singapore Fashion Week 'nd all," he explains, appropriately concerned by the wrinkle of his brows towards the elderly man. "Mandarin cut, according to the lady." His gesture off his hip towards Janet is gallant. "Might as well show him how it's done, right? Oh, had an example for you on...my..."

Patting at his outer coat pockets, and then his jeans, Steve winces. "...think I left my phone at Armani." He glances over at Clark. "'ve gotta get fitted, would you mind going 'nd looking for it? Janet could text it in ten minutes as proof it's mine?"

...and Steve's phone is absolutely tucked away into a hidden inner pocket of his jacket as it stands.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's eyes narrow slightly. The Wasp is oftimes a little vapid and self-absorbed, but there's nothing wrong with her instincts when the twig to somthing. Steve's trying to buy Clark an out. She can hear it. Captain Rogers gets a flickering sideye that's the equivalent to shooting daggers-- more will be discussed later, for sure.

But meanwhile Janet sliiides up to Clark in a way that emphasizes her curves and moves her blouse around in a way that's almost criminally indecent as weaponized charisma is brought forward.

"Don't worry about the phone. Arthur's there-- he'll fetch it," she promises Clark. "C'mon." Fingertips walk up his sternum, then leans ever-so-slightly against the stolidly built reporter. Lashes bat over intensely green eyes, and the scent of her perfume (clean laundry and cordials) simmers around her. "Do it for me and Lois. Huh? Just this once."

Lois Lane has posed:
There's something happening in the room. Lois' eyes dart between Clark and Steve, then to Clark, then to Janet and Clark again. Her expression kind of looks like she ate a lemon for a second before she steps forward in a motion to attempt to edge Janet out. "I mean, Clark can make his own decision, can't you, Clark?"

Is that supposed to be an out for Clark or...? Whatever it is, she's giving Janet a very odd expression.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark easily gives the floor to Steve. There's a sense of dignity to the way Clark does it, like he forgets to be diminished by it, and simply gives attention to the Captain with an incline of head without actively curling back like a spooked animal. "You may have left it? Oh dear. Of course, I could go---" Clark began to agreeably assent, but then Janet makes HER move. The vamp itself is certainly 'a thing', but so is her getting into his personal space so closely. Clark gets nervous when people touch his physique: they'll figure out it's muscle mass, and they might /wonder things/. He survives on being uninteresting to give a second look to, so having a lot of eyes on his build is nerve wracking.

And not just that, but because he did straighten up (well, within reason), and Janet is pretty tiny, by comparison Clark looks like a tower, with a foot of height over her. Too similar to the difference in body type when she's standing by Steve. Mayday!

Clark doesn't look into the slippery cleavage though, he's very polite and keeps his gaze entirely on her face when she approaches him. He's a good man. Who is, however, really, really blushing now!

"I um. I mean, I'm okay to get some measures, maybe for the future - but I don't need a suit immediately, and I'm pretty sure that wasn't my size, this may take a while, I'm difficult to fit.." Clark hedges. He swallows and glances first to Steve, with an 'it's okay' mild, gentle quality in his gaze. Appreciative for what Steve is doing, clearly, but he trusts he'll slide through this. The glance moves to Lois, and improves a little in warmth. It comes across as a very shy man trying to be brave!

"Senor, ah," Clark asks, and switches into Spanish, with a mixed inflection of Italian and a slight Portuguese affectation. "~Measure in private space, for my modesty?~" Clark asks, in loose Spanish. "Per favore."

Steve Rogers has posed:
By the wrinkle of Steve's brows, he's not impressed by Janet's behavior. The arms fold a little tighter and he gains half-inch of height by the inhale alone. The exhale is slower, self-centering. Lois's travels have him considering her and then Clark in a quick flicker of regard back and forth. Could it be...?

But then Clark speaks up and for himself. Mollified a touch more by the reporter's side-glance, he then speaks up quietly: "Don't mind being an example if need be. Phone can wait, since Arthur might recognize it."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Ah, si comprendes Espanol?" Janet beams up approvingly at Clark, and wags her chin twice at the atelier. "Ah si si Mimmo, privacia es importante. Esta hombre es un poco timido."

Lois' expression catches Janet's gaze, and she glances sidelong at Lois. Then, a faint, but fast double-take. Her head cocks minutely and a wordless conversation floats between the two women, spoken in subtle shifts of body language. It ends with Janet's eyes widening slightly as if in realization, then she beats a quick two-beat step back from Clark while trying to make it look casual.

"Don't worry about the phone," Janet promises him. "I'll tell Arthur to get it. Hang on, I'll call it right now; I'm sure someone will see it and pick it up."

Her near-transparent smartphone emerges from her purse and Janet brings up a picture of Steve mugging for the camera with <3 Bae <3 superimpose over it, and hits 'dial'.

Somewhere in the office, there's a sound like a squeeze toy being stepped upon. For the moment, Janet doesn't notice it.

Lois Lane has posed:
The entirely silent conversation that Lois has with Janet is all in the eyes. It's over in moments, but there's /something/ definitely communicated and the both of them seem to have some kind of understanding by the ending. She steps back, her gaze going to Clark and trying to offer him a comforting smile. It's mostly to reassure him that not only everything is okay, that the suit thing is still a /great/ ide--

"What on earth is making that sound?" Janet may not have noticed, but Lois sure did.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark only bobs his head a little bit at Janet when she asks if he understands Spanish. He also doesn't seem to fight about Janet's assessment about his privacy: it's true. He appeared to be entirely busy with looking at his feet in a show of being exactly as described.

"What sound?" Clark asks. "I don't hear anything," he says, clearly trying to listen, and looking puzzledly at Lois. He draws back towards the tailor, with an expression of lifting in his hands in a submissive 'now what' sort of motion of his palms.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Janet's phone comes out.

And Steve's eyebrows twitch in some spastic attempt to keep them from rising and hiding into his hairline.

It only half-succeeds by the time the first squeaky chirrup emerges from //somewhere// within the room. He turns around as if startled to hear it, back towards everyone, pulling every - single - ounce of theatrical experience gained over his century of life, and as he does, a hand goes grips at his interior coat pocket.

BUTTON BUTTON HIT ANY BUTTON IT'LL STOP THE --

Success. The sound ceases. Turning back around, Steve frowns at everyone. "That was...really weird," he offers; he's unable to keep from briefly rubbing at the back of his neck regardless.

Whew. That had been TOO CLOSE.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet frowns at her phone. "Rude," she sniffs, and ends the connection. A text is fired off to her assistant with lightning speed, and she tucks the phone back into her purse.

"Mimmo will take good care of you, Clark," Janet promises him. She starts to help herd Clark into a fitting room, but is stopped by an outthrust palm in her direction. Elderly though the old atelier is, his command and posture are as effective as a barked order.

"No. You are not allowed in my fitting room, miss van Dyne," he says, as if remdining her of stern rules. Janet pouts, to absolutely no avail. "Go back to your dresses and skirts, child-- this is a fitting room for a man, and only men may enter." The old fellow hustles Clark into the fitting room and shuts the door firmly in Janet's face.

"Rude," Janet mumbles. Under her breath, of course. She exhales wearily and turns to look at Lois again. Then she pivots to Steve. "I think I need to use the ladies. Lois, come with me?" she requests of the reporter. "Steve if you feel like being a dear, I would do anything for a nice latte from downstairs," she prompts him. It's at least something to *do* for the next few minutes, anyway, and Janet dithers at the door with a single, slightly lifted eyebrow at Lois.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois shoots a glance at Clark as he's shoved away towards the fitting room. "Ladies room it is," she agrees as she turns back towards Janet. She glances briefly towards Steve as well. "You know, if you're getting her a latte I wouldn't mind one as well." It's a sheepish look, just a tiny bit guilty for jumping on the boat Janet's already sent sailing. She looks back to Janet. "So, ladies room then?" She knows she's going to have to have /some/ kind of conversation, it's unavoidable now.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark is getting herded into the fitting room, and only had time to cast a sort of bemused look back - a relieved one perhaps, to move out of the stress of the whole of the situation. He relaxes some once the situation is more private: he's fairly willing to be measured, but also to chat with Spanno a little bit more, draw the man onto his side about his personal modesty. He does want to look good, of course, but not display muscle...

Making the customer happy, of course, is a big part of what Spanno does -- so he'll have a challenge at hand, to both make the client look good, without making said client uncomfortable. The result... is more than decent. Clark hasn't come out of the dressing room /quite/ yet though.

Steve Rogers has posed:
There is, despite himself, a wry amusement painted in delicate microtells across Steve's face as he watches Clark be hustled and herded away into the fitting room. Spano isn't incorrect: the last time Steve was fitted, Janet was left to her devices as well for the time it took to decide cloth and drape, pin and fit.

The Wasp's prompting, and Lois's minutely chagrined note, has the man nodding after a long moment's musing. "Not a problem, ladies." Because he's a gentleman at heart.

And because he //REALLY// doesn't want to tip Fate against his favor with his phone on his person still. The shrill call of the Desert Rain Frog could sound off again at any time...at least until he has time to pull out the phone and silence it.

Which Steve does the very second he sees the door to the office pulled shut by one of the ladies. Out comes the phone and down goes the volume and PHEW. Alright, lattes.

Steve is settled into one of the guest chairs with his own drink by the time folks recongregate, reading through one of the books left tucked into the section of shelving off to one side. He has a drink of his own, a mocha, and glances up now and then towards the fitting room with an expectant light in his eyes.

After all...he knows who's actually being fitted for a suit.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet and Lois return, looking as if they've had a long heart to heart. Maybe. Or a voyage of inner self-discovery. Or Janet just ate an edible; she's looking a little smug and very relaxed. Maybe all three. But arm in arm they are again, chattering blithly about the banalities of New York social life.

"Steve, you're too precious for words," Janet coos, and wraps her hands around the drink he brought. A few sips are taken, and then the fitting room door cracks. 'Mimmo' looks for Janet, then beckons her in with a subtle point of his chin. She follows obligingly, leaving drink behind, and steps into the room.

The door opesn a few seconds later, and Janet holds the doorknob at the small of her back. An inward bend of her knee is a model's pose, clearly styling a little for non-present cameras. "Lady's and gentlemen, I give you: Clark's first real suit!"

She pulls the door open for the Dramatic Reveal!

It's a stylish look right out of the 30s. Coal black, charcoal pinstripes, double-breasted, with pressed slacks. It's not quite done yet; Mimmo works fast, but no one can fit a suit in 15 minutes. At least not to the stylist's standards. He can't do much for Clark's habitual slouch, but it's at least clean lines that promote a blocky build rather than emphasizing a truly athletic physique.

"Twirl! Twirl!" Janet encourages, and grabs Clark's hand to pull him in a circle and a half.

She stops with her back to the door, facing Clark so Lois can take in the view of admittedly broad shoulders, and wrinkles her nose up at him.

"Let's lose the glasses," she says, midway through plucking them off.

"...No, you look really goofy without them," she declares. "They bring out your eyes." Spectacles are replaced and she turns him towards Lois and Steve again.

Janet peeks around Clark. "Is Mimmo a genius or is he a genius?" she says with as much pride as if she'd made it herself.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark was busy turning but is clearly uncomfortable with all of it. The reach towards his face is immediately spotted, and a quick decision was made. Clark's good at this -- a decade of all sorts of bluffs. He can't flip out over the glasses thing, because it calls attention to them! But he /can/ screw his face up into a supremely squinty lemon-face with wrinkled nose of 'blindness' as she draws the glasses back a little, and chases her wrist sort of 'blindly' with his hand to retrieve them. He did, in fact, look VERY goofy, all scrunchy-nose!....

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois seems to be in good spirits from whatever conversation happened previously. She moves to stand out of the way once she's in the room, allowing Janet to present Clark. She's not looking at first, but as soon as Janet's voice gets her attention she looks back in Clark's direction. Folding her arms across her chest, she observes. Her poker face isn't exactly holding--she definitely looks impressed.

"Nice, Smallville," she offers simply, a quick glance shot to Janet. "He works miracles, I'd say. Almost like a different man."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"'m not gonna be found in any Webster's Dictionary, it's true," Steve agrees in a deadpan manner as the lattes are discovered and enjoyed. The book is set safely aside and the man rises to his feet, holding his drink, and when Janet is summoned to the Room of Secret Suit Devisings, those malleable eyebrows lift. He glances over at Lois and then wanders over in a manner that places him nearby to her in a mildly companionable manner...but also to peer at the door questioningly.

Out comes Janet, then there's the reveal, and when the fashionista makes to lift the glasses from Clark's face, Steve briefly assumes a starkly-stricken expression as if someone suddenly informed him that the government needed him to begin touring again in those bedamned tights. But Clark pulls the nose-scrunch and it proves effective enough as a cloaking mechanism.

Whew.

After taking a deep sip of his mocha, he nods agreement with Lois. "Not half-bad, Clark." For all the mild language, it's a true compliment by his equally mild smile.

Clark Kent has posed:
Clark's blush erupts at Lois's assessment more than anything else. His head is down a bit, and he slants a look at her sideways out of his eye. Clearly Lois's opinion is the one Clark most cares about. It wouldn't take much of any detective to spot his reaction to her saying he looked good: although he did it while Lois was shooting an eye to Janet, so Lois may have missed it!

"All right, show is over," Clark says bashfully, retreating towards the fitting room, one hand up to partially cover his lower face under the palm, shyness apparent, but he isn't /truly/ slouching at the moment - he may realize he doesn't have to. He is retreating, but there's a mixture of emotions there, and a self-conscious press of his glasses up his nose. "/Your/ turn," Clark directs at Steve, a clear call for help this time. Get him outa here: he did the necessary item, but lingering could be pushing it!

Clark retreats, already trying to remove the coat partially, to get back to his ill-fitted shirt under it, though that does leave his backside viewable, and the pants are /not/ in fact ill-fitted. For the brief window of speedy retreat.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet and Lois are nearer the door than Steve is; they're treated to a view, and Janet's head tilts minutely sideways in appraisal. She looks to Lois when the door swings shut; another subtle conversation is held in silence, head bobbling sideways, one brow ticking, and a knowing smirk on Janet's face.

She laughs then and hugs Lois reassuringly, and steps away from the woman to collect her coffee once again. "You've got to admit, he cleans up nicely," Janet tells Steve. She gives his forearms a squeeze and beams up at him. "You're very sweet to be such a nice friend for him to have. I get the sense he doesn't ... get to hang out with guys much. You're a good influence."

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois doesn't seem to be the wiser despite the close call. As Clark leaves, however, she tilts her head to the side. "Hate for you to go but love to watch you leave," she murmurs. She's close enough for Janet to hear, at least. But, you know, it's not as if anyone's particularly listening hard to what she's saying. She clears her throat, then looks back between Steve and Janet.

"I think I hog him too much of the time. We both work too hard. I'm glad he's got a friend like you," she directs towards Steve.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve lifts a hand off his jean pocket. "My turn," he agrees of Clark's directive, still smiling to himself. He's well aware of the reactions of the women. There's some razzing he could do, but he stashes it away for another day. While Clark retreats back to the changing room, the Captain gives a humble shrug as to the accolades he receives.

"I like him. He's his own man in his own way." A musing divot appears briefly at the super-soldier's brows. He then nods to himself and adds, "Wholesome as fresh milk."

Still, Janet gets a questioning glance. "Still need to fit me today for a suit?"

Maybe he can get out of it still!

Clark Kent has posed:
Is Clark hiding in the back? Maybe a little. He takes a moment in private, in the changing room, to have a quiet tension meltdown, leaning his forearm against the mirror, and setting his forehead against it, for a deep, slow breath. "Get it together, Clark," he murmers to himself, before getting changed. /Fast/. He's a cheater. He then spends the rest of the time it should take to change just getting himself to relax. Close calls like that are terribly stressful.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Wholesome as milquetoast, maybe," Janet snorts. But she at least keeps her voice to a murmur Lois can't overhear. It'd be rude-- but she glances once anyway, quickly, to make sure she's not been overheard.

"Yes, and it'll be fast," she promises Steve. "Your measurements haven't really changed much. I keep track." Fingernails worm a path encircling his narrow waist. "But I want to talk to him about letting the shoulders out so you can move your arms more. A *bit* more," she reminds him.

An idea occurs and she moves away, rapping knuckles on the changing room door. "Clark! Why don't you take Lois to the next stop, and we'll meet up with you there?" she suggests, raising her voice slightly. "You can get some ice cream on the way, or something."

Lois Lane has posed:
"He's certainly wholesome, I'll give him that," Lois comments with a smile. "And he'd probably die on the spot if he heard us talking about him like this. Better not let him catch us. He's prone to blushing." /That/ she knows from personal experience. She glances between Steve and Janet with some curiosity, but she doesn't pry. It's one thing to pry as a reporter and a different one to pry as a friend.

"Ice cream?" She glances towards Janet. /What/ is she planning?

Steve Rogers has posed:
It's probably the slight give Steve gets in letting the arms of the suit out more that sways him away from giving Janet the Long-Suffering Look. She's seen that one often enough: the noble cast of chin and brows potentially more effective than Puss 'n Boots and his big animated eyeballs of doom.

Lois gets a fairly innocent glance at her question followed by a twitch of a broad-shouldered shrug. Steve's no mind reader. Whatever Janet's up to, he's not privy to it beyond a suit-fitting most swift given the super-serum's ability to hold him at physiological perfection.

Clark Kent has posed:
"What? Take her where?" Clark asks as he opens the door. He's most of the way through tying his tie back on, as he emerges, same as always. He mis-buttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, which just makes him look more crumpled than he already did. The difference in the previous suit to this one? Pretty drastic. And on purpose. Back to melting into the background with the other invisible wallflowers. Pay no mind to gentle, clumsy, helpful ol' Clark.

Clark comes out fully, stopping adjacent to Lois. A soft smile is aimed around at the other three, offering only his usual softened kindness.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Anywhere," Janet says, with an Entirely Straight face. "But mostly to the next stop. We'll catch up with you guys there. Get some ice cream if you want," she says. Clark's chameleon nature is working again-- Janet only seems to notice him by his proxy to her interest in Lois' affairs. She starts shooing them both to the door in that way that feels like a forcefield of her forceful presence, projected around her in a moving pressure wave.

"We'll catch up with you there," she says, blocking the door so there's no retreat. "It's so nice to be out with friends, isn't it?" She beams a truly radiant smile. "I can't imagine anything else in the *world* I'd rather do. We'll see you there. Remember, it's Lexington and Wales."

That smile lands squarely on Lois. Vulpine. Cheshire, even. "Southeast corner. Bye buddies, see you there~!" She starts trying to push the door close before anyone starts questioning her for too many details.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois is shoo'd out the door, eyeing Janet carefully as she moves towards the exit. She's certainly planning /something/. "Of course, Janet, we'll see you there," she replies, a warm smile offered. It's a little /too/ warm. But she's distracted as she notices Clark's not properly dressed. She turns to reach up to and fix the buttons. "Here, let me do that," she says without letting him question it.

Once the buttons are properly buttoned and the tie is in place, she peers at Clark, leaning in very close to murmur something in a low tone to him. "You know she's probably given us some weird location to try and embarrass you, right?" She rests a hand on her hip.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Ah, that particular intersection. Janet is given a knowing side-squint from the Captain even as he watches her attempt to herd the other pair out from the office.

"A bit cold for ice cream," he benignly notes nearly under his breath in the direction of the fashionista before he sips at his drink. Now, hot coffee? Yes -- it is very much an early evening for this. "Fitting won't take overlong," he also volunteers in the general direction of the door.

Clark Kent has posed:
"We're going to finish that conversation about the team transfer, though, Steve," Clark calls, apparently not going to have his bro-time entirely destroyed. Just delayed. "Though if you want to tell Janet, well, maybe she'll appreciate the news about the teams," he laughs softly. Clearly Baseball, and not an allowance that Janet know someone is alive.

Clark moves his hands out of the way of fixing the tie when Lois steps in to take over. It's a normal thing with them, a comfortable ease to it. "Well, I'll have you to defend me," Clark chuckles back to Lois softly with a private smile for her.

"We'll see you there," Clark bids, though, allowing himself to be shoo'd out with Lois.