15866/Tea Lights and Wine

Tea Lights and Wine
Date of Scene:	15 September 2023
Location:	Sion - Office
Synopsis:	Ok fine, Psylocke comes home and is cute.
Cast of Characters:	Betsy Braddock, Alexander Aaron

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Betsy Braddock has posed:
Although the X-Men had headed to Washington D.C. to share the evidence they had found and turn over Chezman in the process, who hopefully did not have a broken jaw so he could be called to testify, Betsy had opted to go home. Not that it mattered a lot, she didn't wear a mask as Psylocke. Yet, she did use her powers to help sort of scramble memories of what she looked like thus most people they encountered wouldn't ever be picking her out of a lineup. Thus going and testifying on behalf of mutants with media in attendance was something she'd rather avoid.

Thus, she took one of the motorcycles at Xavier's, which technically belonged to the school as opposed to any of the staff or students who might be upset at their missing bike, and headed back to New York City. It was quite the ride and she was thankful when she got home even as she decided she needed to buy a helicopter for just such occasions in the future. She normally enjoyed these trips but not today. Perhaps because she had too much on her mind.

She did send out a mental ping to Alexander, both to let him know she was heading home and to find out if he was there. Either way, she still intended fully to go to their condominium. Where she had plans for a long soak in one of the fancy bathtubs with lots of candles and a bottle of wine. Maybe some nice music for listening.

She reached the building and turned over the bike to the valet, instead of self-parking. Then inside to their private elevator and up to their place. Stepping out of the elevator into that hallway which led off in either direction.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    She got a response to that ping, just the sentiment felt distantly that he was not at that shared residence, but he would be soon as she was heading there. So when she rolled up on her 'borrowed' wheels she felt that presence of his far up and above though he had only been there a handful of minutes.
    Yet he was seen waiting for her when the elevator door opens with that gentle trill of sound that announces its arrival. He has a seat on that small conversation nook in the foyer, settled on the edge of the curiously designed ottoman, its creation the work of some expensive interior decorator or another. She'll see him then, leaning forward with his hands on his knees, then when the elevator door opens he gets to his feet.
    Those pale eyes meet her gaze and he smiles slightly, head turning right, then left, as if trying to get a look at her from subtly different angles. His way of... checking her, gauging her, getting a feel for her mood and manner. Then the smile broadens a little, but his brow furrows as his expression is a little sad, as if empathizing with what she must have gone through.
    Then he spoke. Just one word, a simple thing as he murmured, "Hey."
    Which was before he closed that distance in a few steps. Hand reaching out to take hers, fingers interlacing, other hand resting softly on her hip. A small move together as their noses brush gently, then their lips find each other.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
Upon seeing him, she smiled. Not that bright, brilliant smile she might share normally. This was more subdued, fitting with her mood. But it was there and it was all for him. "Hi," she returned softly as she helped close that distance by meeting him halfway. Her fingers gripped his tightly then she gave that momentary nose rub followed by a kiss. And he would be able to feel her relax slightly once they kissed, as though just being there with him helped carry the burden that was causing her such tension.

When they pulled back, she made a little face. She was wearing jeans, but he might recognize the boots on her feet as being those she wore with her costume. A costume that was hidden under the sweater and leather jacket covering her upper body. Her face was clean, as were her hands, but there was a scent of exertion. Sweat, a hint of blood perhaps? Smoke. Dirt. It wasn't really pleasant and she was very aware of it.

"I'll be glad to talk but only after I'm in a tub. I'm thinking that one where I said I'd never use it?" The one with the big window near it. Not that the window wasn't treated so no one could see in but she had set up the room with candles and the like. It looked the role. She just never had actually used it for a nice bubble bath.

Then Betsy made a little face. "Though, nevermind. I think a shower would be better. Wash all this off. Then maybe a soak after I'm clean," she decided. "With wine. And perhaps grapes and cheese?" She had no idea what was in the house at the moment.

It sounded a bit decadent but she felt like she needed that about now. "How're you? How's work been?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "I'll go get it set, you can get changed. I'll be quick." Alexander said quietly as he starts to step to the side, moving down that hall, his hand still holding hers with fingers entwined, but as he started moved away their hands rose until they broke apart reluctantly.
    He walked down that hall, pausing near a closet that he opened, digging into it to grab a a stack of towels and then rummaging a little to find those small tea lights that they had for that one party. Once he had procured what they needed he moved down the hall again toward that twisting stairwell that led upward to that particular bath that sat in the corner of the second floor, that was mostly just the tub and the large windows that looked out over the city.
    As he ascends he says over his shoulder, with her likely following close on his heels. "Once you get settled I'll grab the wine and cheese." Then he adds, "And grapes." In case she thought he had missed that one.
    Once they're near the bathroom he sets down the stack of towels and candles, though he takes one towel to spread on the floor for possible slippage. The spout is turned on, warm water rushing into that silver and white tub. He tests it with the edge of one hand. Then he gives her cheek a small kiss as he passes by, "I'll go get the food, so you can eat while we talk and I'll do the candles. The sun should be setting soon."

Betsy Braddock has posed:
It was a reluctant parting because his mere presence was helping her. Helping put things behind her. Helping put the world into perspective again. Or perhaps that was wrong? It was more forgetting about the world. Forgetting what was going on out there, what would be decided for their people, for her specifically. She just needed that time.

She did make it to the main bedroom where she quickly stripped off her clothes. Her costume had still been on underneath. It was all left in a heap on the bathroom floor of their bedroom, a sign that she was not her usual self since it would've been in the hamper. A quick shower, a wash of the hair and getting the grunge off her.

Only then did she head for that bathroom. This way the bubble bath wouldn't get all icky from the dirt and grime she had to wash off. It would be lovely and perfect. A sanctuary in a clown world.

She tested the water with her own hand, sitting on the edge for the moment. Then added a streak of white bubble bath to the water under the faucet, the tumultuous impact of the flow causing it to froth and filling the room with that aroma as well.

Only then did she take off the robe, hanging it on a hook not far from the tub for just such a purpose. Then she stepped carefully into the tub and slowly lowered herself into the water. Taking her time as it was a little warm, so it would stay at a good temp for longer, thus taking a moment for her body to adjust to it. But soon she was slumped down in the curved end of the tub, looking out that window to the skyline of the city and letting out a soft, contented sigh.

Only then, when he had returned and she was soakigng, did she look over and smile again. "So how was your day, dear?" in a light tone since it sounded so very 1950s tv. Or perhaps closer to Pretty Woman considering her state.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    When he came back he had the wooden cutting board adorned with a variety of sliced cheeses. Not too many, a trio perhaps as that was what they had in the fridge. There was also a bowl of grapes and a few slices of sausage or pepperoni that would serve decently well. He brought this in and set it on the rather large side panel of the bath which was designed for such decadence. Then the bottle of wine set down as well, two glasses clinking into place.
    He sat down on the edge of the tub then and started to unwrap the tea lights, a lighter flickering into life in his hand as he started that casual procession of lighting and placing those small candles.
    "My day was uneventful. Helped some of the co-workers move a cursed idol from one of SHIELD's storage areas to WAND's. At least I think it was supposed to be cursed. I don't feel cursed. They didn't know if it was for sure so..." Alex smiled slightly even as the lighter flickered to life again, another small candle being set along the edge of the tub. The lights weren't on as the sun was still shining, gleaming as it reached toward the edge of the horizon. But as the minutes go by the shadows creep in ever closer.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Most things that are supposedly cursed are not, in my experience," Betsy said with another smile, imagining the precautions that had to be taken in order to be safe just in case. "WAND have any specific reason for taking it out of storage? Maybe they figured something out," she suggested helpefully, as though he didn't already think of that. Of course he'd already thought of that. But it was called making conversation.

As he worked on everything, she watched him carefully lighting each of the small candles and scattering them around. The big thing with candles? Never put them near the end of the tub where hair might be. A good lesson learned when she was about twelve and thought that it would be cool. The singed spot, smell of burned hair, and haircut she had to get after to eliminate the nasty spot had taught her well.

Though apparently he had gotten that lesson, or was smarter than 12-year old Betsy, since he wasn't putting them near that end.

"I certainly do hope you are not cursed. That would be very inconvenient. Is it a contagious curse or just you for...touching it or whatever you did?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    Still on the edge of the tub, Alexander lets his gaze linger idly upon that broken silhouette of her lithe body beneath the water. His eyes lift to meet hers and he smiles slightly, her glimpse into his thoughts giving her a glimpse into what he was thinking, though he was good and did not act upon such thoughts. Yet at least.
    Instead he maintaind that casual and calm chat as he murmured, "It was the particular cuneiform writing on it that in the translation mentioned woe falling upon any mortal that dared touch the remains of that particular ancient king. So one of them sorta... knows about me not being mortal but didn't want the others to know about me. So he told the others I volunteered to convey the statue... urn-like thing, he 'cast' a fakey ritual on me saying it was so its curse would not take hold, and I carried it down the hall. Uneventfully."
    Another flick of the lighter and then another small light was set down.
    "But we'll see." His lip curls a little as he says that, and saying such a thing is very much tempting fate. So he looked up... and around, then back as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Luckily nothing happened.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
The looking around made her giggle. She hadn't anticipated feeling like giggling but she couldn't help herself as he made sure to glance in all corners first. She did bring up her hand to cover her mouth as she giggled, the sound of the water dripping off her hand rather loud to her. Then the hand went over to claim a grape and she tossed that into her mouth. A chew and swallow before she spoke again.

"And since you are not mortal, it probably comes down to a turf contest if there is a god behind said curse and let's be honest. They likely don't want to mess with the Olympians. Since you still have people that worship your kind." They might be few and far between but they did exist. Just as those who worshipped the Asgardians despite now knowing they were not really gods.

Sometimes logic need not apply.

"If there is video of the fake ritual, I suspect it would be highly amusing. You managed to keep a straight face?" Betsy asked, somehow suspected there was a smirk at the very least.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Well, there's actually a few schools of thought about that, since weirdly enough that sort of thing comes up. The whole curses and pantheons and who has the right of way." Alexander's lips twist up a little as he slips a hand into the water, testing the temperature and then adjusting the flow of warm water from the spout. He then goes back to lighting a few more candles as they talk.
    "But no, no video. I think. I mean it's SHIELD so they record everything but it'd be just time-stamped and location marked. But yeah I kept a straight face. Helped to have my helmet on." Since that made him look rather faceless.
    "But curses with kings and queens and the like, they're usually like... time delayed spells cast by them and empowered by their beliefs and patronage with their gods. A god casting a curse on a mortal is one thing. A god cursing another god is something else entirely, and can turn into a big political thing. So rarely do they give such like... all encompassing curses. Though they do exist." He gives a nod.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
A very unexpected answer. Betsy hadn't really thought too much about that fact various pantheons would be like countries, each with their own viewpoints and wanting to express them. But without creating World War III, something little people like her appreciated.

The concept of a War between Pantheons was terrifying. Though, that technically was part of Alexander's background. She just hadn't sort of parsed it out fully in her brain.

"All hopes this was not one of the all emcompassing. Time will tell, I suppose. Unless you can find someone who can tell if someone is cursed." A pursing of her lips as she picked up a piece of cheese with a bit of pepperoni. "I wouldn't know where to start," she admitted before taking the bite.

Then she had to smile, giving him a little side eye. "That sexy helmet that you were wearing when we first met? The one that doesn't show your face? You really should bring one of those home sometime." And there was amusement in her eyes as she said that.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Sexy helmet." Alexander repeats those words, his lips twisting into a larger smile as he shakes his head, lifting his eyes up towards the heavens as if offering prayer to all-father Zeus to give him patience. He looks sidelong at Elizabeth and keeps up the chit-chat, perhaps partially trying to distract her from what she'd been through, but also because they had been apart for a good bit of time... so he had missed her.
    "What about that helmet is sexy? It's like... just a visor." Though he doesn't entirely disagree, more just amused about the sentiment.
    Then he adds, "Besides, I have one here that I was working on trying to fix. Though it has a crack in part of it. So might not be as _sexy_." His lip twists up, amused.

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Hmmm." Betsy had to consider a moment, not sure what it was about the mask that was sexy. "I'm not sure how to explain it. And probably it isn't sexy to everyone, or we'd all have them in our bedrooms." She tilted her head as she worked through her thoughts on the matter.

"It was the fact that you looked so well put together already in the uniform. Your build." And she did a little pantomime across for the shoulders then down to the smaller waist. "The silhouette. Your arms showed their musculature as you moved. Then the mask sort of took be back to old movies my parents would watch. Things from the early days such as Zorro and the Lone Ranger. That little domino mask and the whole heroic aspect just appealed, even as a little girl. That mirrored visor you had one sort of took that to a new level, if that makes sense?"

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Mmm." Is Alexander's succinct response, some hint of dubiousness can be seen in those pale eyes as he looks at her with a faint smirk. He leans over and touches his lips to the top of her head, giving a soft kiss even as he finishes with the candles, a final flick of the lighter.
    "So basically, it was just my body. I see." He says as he leans back, lips twisted wry as he takes one of those grapes and pops it into his mouth. "It could be that.. hint of anonymity. I was just a figure, a physique, and anonymity does cause people to be braver than normal."
    He half-smiles as he stands up then and undoes the top button of his shirt, since he was still in his work clothes to a degree. That business casual look with the dress pants and the white buttoned down shirt. Now looking a bit more at ease, however, the miracles of undoing just one button. "Do you want some time to relax and have some peace to yourself... or would you like me to join you?"

Betsy Braddock has posed:
"Not just your body. But it helped. Your sense of humor was a huge draw, I have to admit." Betsy considered what he had added. "I think the anonymity perhaps. It does make people bold and it adds mystery which is always a draw as we like to figure things out as a species."

She watched as he undid that top button but stopped there, a momentary ping of disappointment from her. Then he asked the last question.

Her smile answered it for him even before she shifted in to the tub to silently offer him more room to join her.