1774/And In the Brown Paper Bag!

And In the Brown Paper Bag!
Date of Scene:	21 May 2020
Location:	Steve's Room - Avengers Mansion
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Steve Rogers, Janet van Dyne

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Steve Rogers has posed:
Sometimes, the world can continue to spin without the aid of the Avengers. Granted, if they're involved, it's generally more than a standard issue of a lost cat up a tree. It's warm and cozy in Steve's room, a comfortable temperature in counter to the opened windows letting in the cooler evening breeze scented with the promise of overnight rain.

He's actually seated in one of the built-in window seats with his acoustic guitar, lazily strumming through chords and singing to himself. While the progression is winsome and the lyrics in Gaelic clearly some form of lament, his voice is mellow and gentle, more thoughtful than mourning.

"O hi shiubhlainn leat," sings the Captain softly, his eyes somewhere beyond the toes of his indoor slippered foot brought up to rest on the ledge. His other leg hangs down touching the floor. In jeans and a light long-sleeved shirt, he continues at his task, a thousand miles away at least until his other half makes some peep. It makes him look over at her, eyebrows lifted.

"Hmm?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I didn't say anything," Janet says, without looking up. She's curled up in the crook of the sofa's arm, knees bent and bare feet tucked under her. A little nest of warm blankets and comforters is stacked around *just so*, allowing her to tuck toes and bare legs under the blanket in response to mercurial shifts in her comfort.

She's taken advantage of the warmer weather; a brief white denim miniskirt and a sleeveless red blouse, leaving a fair amount of recently sun-cured skin exposed.

"Hhnh," she articulates again a minute later. Her eyes never leave her tablet computer. She probes the inside of her cheek with her tongue and taps the butt of the stylus against her cheek to provoke an arrhythmic, organic drumming sound.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Oh." Steve does appear mildly perplexed. His brows meet as he turns his face profile, the better to squint out of the window. "Oh, yes, just passersby," he then says, further craning his head to see. They do indeed pass by the mansion, chattering in a non-English language. It's enough to make the next strum of chords slow, muting out when the man places his palm against the strings.

"That reminds me..." As he murmurs, he sets aside the acoustic guitar carefully and makes to disappear into the bedroom -- though not without stooping to smush a kiss to the Wasp's dark hair. There is, in fact, some rustling from the back closet, and then some silence to follow. From the bedroom, he emerges, hands behind his back.

"Got a moment for a poor soldier attempting to treat his gal?" A bright grin slowly blossoms on his face, showcasing dimples, as he sidles over to the arm of couch and stops, hands still out of sight at the small of his back.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"No, honey, get whatever you want," Janet says absently. She's very deeply engrossed in whatever she's working on; it looks like a roster arrangement with names from the Avengers, former League members, the Titans, and a few other affiliations.

"Stev--" Her voice is raised a little too loud, and she starts when he appears so close to her. Blinking apology turns to pleased suspicion as Steve puts on an impish expression.

"You're treating me to something?" Janet appears to like the sound of that; she sets her tablet aside and turns in place, settling on her knees on the sofa with her back coquettishly arched. Hands rest in her lap with a demurity that her lucious hazel eyes utterly undermines, and she gives Steve a look of pleased curiousity. "What's the occasion? Is it just a celebration of how much you love and adore me? I'm very okay with this if it's becoming a new tradition."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Now that Steve's seen what was on the tablet, his expression is a bit more distracted. He blinks and even turns his head a touch to follow reading the screen before returning his attention to the Wasp's face.

"Picked you up a little something while we were at the night market." Ah, the one they attended a few weeks back, full of culture and life and delicious food and very real tequila. "The other thing's more a...confirmation than a physical item," he reveals after a rather theatrical hemming and hawing toss of his head back and forth to minor degrees.

Then, with a continued air of deliberate poise, he reveals the small brown bag last seen innocuously at the market. It's handed to Janet.

Inside this, a small and flat white box, surprisingly more luxe in comparison to the bag itself, a square about four by four inches. Inside this?

What appears to be a sun-catcher. Lifting it up proves it to be an eight-inch strand of golden chain broken by truly real Swarovski crystals in a warmly aureate range of colors -- about halfway down is a stained-glass crysal honeybee, lustrous and bright -- and at the bottom, a gloriously deep wine-red crystal in the shape of a six-pointed flower.

"Figure it can go in your office window at work," the super-soldier explains, thumbs now hung off his jean pockets.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh," Janet says, and she is breathless for a moment. Fingers catch the chain and she holds it aloft, twisting this way and that to try and imagine what it'll look like with the sunshine streaming behind it. It tinkles with each tiny motion; her palm captures the bee, then the red rosette, with the careful scrutiny of someone who does live for the finer things in life.

"I love it," she whispers, and looks up at Steve. Her face screws up and she swats at his pectoral with all the force of a paper airplane being flung at him. "You got this at the *market*? And I didn't notice? How didn't I notice? God you're sneaky," she scolds him, and the beaming smile on her face interrupts any ire whatsoever. She sets the glass carefully aside on the counter, admiring it once, then rises to a high kneeling position and lifts her hands to interlace then behind Steve's neck. "Well, I... got you something.... ...too," she says, and her tone would strain even Steve's sense of credulity. "And it's... super awesome, and I got it for no other reason than because I love you, and it's at ... my office, because..." Fingers drop and walk up Steve's sternum, tracing a path for her eyes. "Because of very good reasons, none of which I'm coming up with, but I loooooove that you got me this," she assures him, and reaches both arms up again to dangle her weight from Steve's columnar neck. "How'd you pick it out?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Janet is pleased and he is pleased: a simple equation, this. The Captain grins as he watches her react and how she manipulates it. He can see how her own mind ran similar paths as his own when he saw it -- how is the light going to play? What colors will show? His dimples deepen as she scolds him.

"You seem surprised at my sneakiness," he comments rather drolly. Now, with her hanging from his neck and the hilarious attempt at convincing him there's a gift at HER office, he rather smirks.

"Saw it 'nd it called to me. Dunno how else to put it. Mean, your office isn't spartan by any means, but it seemed like it'd be a nice touch. You don't have to get me anything in return. It's a gift because I love you too, no other reason. Gift don't have to work like that." His arms curl comfortably around her and lift her up, the better to rest her knees on the arm of the couch and to frankly have her close.

"But you forgot about the other thing. Remember? 's'not a physical gift, more a confirmation." The Captain waits until he can tell it's beginning to annoy her, just a little at how he doesn't immediately explain, before he continues: "Remember you wanted to know about the trip to Europe?"

Surely the twinkle in his eyes communicates the rest.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet is lifted up and settles her knees on the sofa's arm; she holds fast to Steve still, for no other reason than because she wishes to stay close to Steve.

Eyes narrow at his teasing reticence, but then fly wide at his words. Janet emits a short gasp and grips his shoulders with both hands, leaning back just a little. "Oh my god! You talked to Fury? You got time off?"

"Aiee!" She squeals with happiness and bounces up and down a few times, holding onto Steve for balance. "He said yes? Well, I don't care if he said yes, but -- yay! When are we going?" She fidgets back and forth with uncontrollable glee.

Steve Rogers has posed:
It's like clinging to a tree. Steve doesn't budge an inch as the joyous reaction explodes before him. His grin appears again and he shrugs. "'s'whenever you wanted to go, <<Seillean>>. Nothing's on fire 'nd the world keeps on turning. 'nd Fury said yes 'nd then told me to get out of his office, he had other reports to look over."

Is he teasing or not? Only he and the Director of SHIELD know.

"Doesn't make a dent in my accumulated vacation hours, 's'true," he adds, then turning about. Janet is held tight to his chest, feet dangling, before he plops back down onto the couch. Now he's one big pillow if she's so inclined. "You're gonna make me take a tux, aren't you." An eyebrow lifts knowingly.