1914/A Very Friendly Kidnapping

A Very Friendly Kidnapping
Date of Scene:	31 May 2020
Location:	Stark Tower: Pepper's Office
Synopsis:	Janet bullies Pepper into going out for drinks.
Cast of Characters:	Pepper Potts, Janet van Dyne

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Pepper Potts has posed:
The last few weeks have passed like a rollercoaster, which is saying something when one works with and for Mr Anthony Edward Stark. Vacation in Vegas, throwing a yacht party that had more than a few mentions in the society papers (Yes, there are still such things!), and still be able to get back to work efficiently as if there was no time taken at all.

Pepper is in her office, seated behind her desk, the large screened television turned on and to the business news. On her desk, a cup of lukewarm coffee, obviously ignored for the attention that is being given her computer screen. She's only half-listening to the stock reports, the buying and selling of options, of companies, only pausing once in awhile when Stark Industries is mentioned, green eyes casting up and to the screen, only to fall again and read her personal tablet. With a flick of her delicate hand, she scrolls through the pages until she gets to a page that has a frown crease her face. Setting the tablet aside, Pepper rolls back her chair and rises, her jaw setting as if she's about to do battle.

Someone had mentioned her business suits were her armor. They were right!

Janet van Dyne has posed:
'Assistants' like Pepper are a rare commodity in the corporate realm. CEOs would kill for vice presidents with a quarter of Pepper's competence; more importantly, someone they can trust completely, which is, perhaps, Pepper's most important and unique quality. So even Pepper has a secretary, someone to buffer Pepper from an outside world clamouring for her attention as a bridge to Tony Stark.

There isn't an assistant alive who can stop Janet van Dyne, though, and she tosses open the double doors to Pepper's office with a wave of white-gloved hands. The outfit is gold and white; white double-breasted jacket, white pencil skirt, even a matching little bolero hat. Gold contrasts on the buttons, and her ears, and bangles on her wrists. The outfit looks like Janet tore a skirtsuit apart; the sleeves are gone, the knee-length pencil skirt's almost indecently tight, and there's an inch of midriff visible between the skirt and the jacket's hem. The only color is a patriotic little shield nestled in the hollow of her throat.

"Pack it up, red," Janet declares. Behind her, a secretary's continuing to make halfhearted protests; Janet rolls her eyes slightly. "It's past nine PM. No working late; we've got a rendezvous at The Ochos to get to," she says. The hottest nightclub in town (for the moment), and a regular watering hole for New York's social aristocracy.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Parts of Pepper's red hair has escaped their bounds, falling about her face. She's in her traditional cream colored business suit, white shirt, practical but becoming pumps. Looking up from her spot when she first catches the noise from without, she stares at the door for a long moment before it swings open. Hurricane Janet arrives in full gale force, leaving destruction behind in the form of her own poor assistant. The appearance of her friend brings a smile to Pepper's face, and her shoulders slump a touch. "It's okay.." Beat. "Really."

That essentially dismisses her assistant, and Pepper waits for the door to close again behind her before she turns to her friend. Taking a couple of steps back to lean at the corner of her desk, she crosses her arms before her. "I have work," Pepper adds ruefully. "Deadlines. Meetings to prepare for. This," she gestures around her office and out her back window with the amazing view, "is my Saturday night."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Ooh, Pepper, Pepper, sweetie," Janet coos reassuringly, and steps over to her. She and Pepper are generally of a height, though posture and killer ivory Ferragamos give Janet a little advantage over her friend. The expression on Janet's face is one of earnest compassion. "I really, really don't care," she says, sweetly. "/I/ want to go out clubbing, and /you/ need to leave work," she tells her, and rests fingers on Pepper's crossed arms to give them a squeeze.

"So you know how this goes, and we can just... skip all the parts where I have to come up with creative threats, increasingly escalating, and then you end up going out with me anyway because you know-- you *know*--," she says, with a pastor's certainty, "that I'll deliver on them, right?"

She beams suddenly at Pepper. "So c'mon, thirty seconds, close it up and let's go," she says, and claps her hands smartly with a staccato one-two. "Or I'll start with waking Tony up and bawling him out for overworking you. Then I've got this vague idea about getting on Twitter and setting the social justice brigade loose on Stark Industries for overworking employees."

Pepper Potts has posed:
Pepper cants her head, her lips pressed in an amused smile. Brows rise as her freckled nose scrunches a little and she honestly looks as if she considers. Her mouth opens at that last bit, though; the threat of the unleasing of the social justice brigade, and she shakes her head quickly,

"Oh no.. no you don't. That's just.." That's just dirty! Pepper does all she can to protect Tony's business reputation, and now with him being threatened? "That's just not fair."

Pep really can't help but laugh, though, and after yet another moment of consideration that plays obviously across her features, she exhales softly and nods, "Okay. But not a word to Twitter."

Straightening once more so she does seem to have almost the same bearing as her socialite and socializing friend, Pepper looks down at her outfit and her lips shift slightly to the side. "You know, I don't have any change of clothes here, right?" So much for any rumors? "Unless you brought something, we have to swing by my apartment."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"My car's downstairs, and I've got a wardrobe in the trunk," Janet says. Hands illustrate a box about the size of a cell phone case. "You know, for fashion emergecies. Party accidents, unexpected invites, some spare Wasp leotards, that kind of thing. I'm sure there's something in there that you can fit into," she promises Pepper. "You're a bit skinner through the hips than me, but I think we can find a way to make it work. C'mon. Pack it up, let's go," she tells Pepper again. Exactly twenty-five seconds later, Janet picks up a piece of paper from the wastebin, removes her gloves, and carefully sets it alight between her fingertips.

"Five seconds," she chimes, and beams up at a smoke detector overhead.

Thankfully disaster's adverted before Janet implicates herself as an arsonist, and the smouldering paper's tossed in a thin lake of water before the two women depart Stark Industries.

Twenty minutes later, a black SUV disgorges the two of them outside of a nightclub. New outfits for both; Janet's changed into a sleek yellow dress with plunging back and neckline, balanced on her collarbone and held together front and back with a single strap of fabric. Loose cloth is bundled around her waist by a gold chain and it becomes a hip-hugging miniskirt beyond the notional 'belt'. Makeup's gone smokey and dark for the club, too.

She gets out of the vehicle and rummages in her clutch, then hands it to her deceptively quiet and nearly invisible personal secreatary, who's hovering unobtrusively nearby in a black suit and grey tie.

"You ready?" she calls into the SUV's interior. "They've got the red carpet rolled out, let's head indoors."

There is, in fact, a literal red carpet up there; The Ochos is a popular place for the papparazzi trying to snare a picture of high-profile celebrities on their way into the exclusive nightclub.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"You .." it's her office! Hers! Thankfully, Homer also monitors the gradient of temperatures of her office, and the flames don't have much of a chance. That, and the door opens to reveal a little robot on treads; Paula. It slides in and begins to clean, whistle-beeping her annoyance, if it could be anthropomoriphized.

Pepper at least has the grace to look apologetic before she finally steps out, letting the AIs do their thing. "Homer, lights out, please."

The ladies' paths through Stark Industries is lit in advance of their path, turned off as they pass, their heels *clipping* down the hallways until finally they emerge from the large corporation building.

Pepper's chosen her outfit; blue with splashes of black and red, a little off the shoulder here, a touch of a tuck there, and a skirt that is a little higher than perhaps Pepper would normally wear. Still, she's not curling up. With her hair redone, her face remade (though still in natural tones), the PA is feeling her second wind. So, with a high heel stepping out, she's on that red carpet at the Ochos. "Janet," Pepper breathes, "this is.." somewhere she normally isn't. Not without Tony, anyway... and then he's the main focus.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"This is /fun/," Janet tells Pepper, standing with one hip cocked out. The second Pepper's weight transitions to the red carpet, Janet hooks an elbow around Pepper's forearm and beams at the papparazzi. No ventriloquist, but Janet's mastered the art of speaking through a grin.

"You deserve a break, and you deserve a little time in your own limelight," she sidelongs to Pepper. The redhead's given a look that turns reassuring, and Janet squeezes her arm. "I promise, it'll be okay," she tells Pepper. "The world's not going to end if you get out and have fun for one night. This is the best place in town, and there's no newscasters or reporters or anyone gonna spring out on you. It's just the young and beautiful people of New York society, and that includes you."

She glances at Pepper and does a double-take. "But not if you keep making that face. You'll get frown lines. C'mon, smile and wave, honey, smile and wave," Janet encourages, and in fits and bumps tries to cajole Pepper into a leggy stride down the red carpet with her friend.

Pepper Potts has posed:
It is fun.. and for all those times that Tony's caught the limelight, he revels in it. Thrives. And it loves him too. Pepper, on the other hand, spends her time on the edges, happy enough to remain unseen. But here and now?

She has no choice. And, dressed up, would anyone truly recognize her anyway?

Pepper looks next to her, at her friend and offers something of a smile, even if there are still a hint of the worried line that creases her face. With every step, though, that seems to disappear until she makes it about 10' from the car, and, well.. she's laughing. There are more than a few people who don't seem they have what it takes to actually enter the club, and instead take out their phones to take pictures of the moment. Pepper does just that...smiles and waves as they approach the door.

The doorman, while he may not recognize Pepper, certainly does recognize Janet, and he opens the door without the ladies having to break a stride. The door that opens to the club... where anyone who is anyone comes.

Pepper is becoming one of the 'beautiful people'?

Janet van Dyne has posed:
The Ochos is likely named for the eight large pillars that make up the main area. It was a bank, sometime in the last century; the pillars are actual hewn marble, polished to a mirror shine.

But the club's been redone in a warm rustling of colors and low lights. Once inside the atmosphere changes considerably. These are people Pepper recognizes; people Janet even ostensibly might acknowledge as her social peers. Socialites, heirs, industrialists, European aristocrats; a 'who's-who' of New York's social royalty.

Janet's all smiles and waves, saying hello and schmoozing with people. But she doesn't let anyone slow her down until she and Pepper are planted at a table. There's nothing so prosaic as a 'bar' here; inconspicuous waitstaff dressed all in black circulate constantly, and someone sidles up to the two women almost immediately. "Welcome to Ochos, ladies. Miss van Dyne, welcome back," the waiter says. He's got the sort of look of someone who came to New York to 'make it' on Broadway or modelling; high cheekbones, olive skin, and lustrous black hair pulled into a neat ponytail. "And it's... Miss Potts, isn't it?" he says, looking to Pepper. Janet nudges her friend in the ribs. "What can I get you ladies?"

"Cuba libre, make it a double, make two and bring the next one in five minutes," Janet tells him immediately. She slides onto a stool with a careful finger-tucking of her skirt, and hooks the spike of a heel onto a rung before crossing her legs. "Maybe some fries or something, too," she says, hazarding a guess that Pepper's likely missed dinner as well.

Pepper Potts has posed:
It's actually the first time Pep's been within. Of course she's heard about it, but who has the time? Not her!

As she moves deeper into the club, the music envelops her, and she does indeed recognize more than a few people about. Some from television, some from the news, and some from corporate meetings and mergers. Some were even present at the yacht the other day.

As the ladies move through the crowd, this is something that Pepper can do, and well. A smile here, a touch and hello there; all with the New York walk, that is, the 'I'm going somewhere and you're not going to get in my way' pace.

Finally with a place to land, Pepper too slides onto the seat, tucking herself in a little before pulling a tendril of hair to sit behind an ear. "Oh?" Pepper laughs at the nudge, and offers a friendly enough smile. "Yes, um.." She considers a moment before, "White wine, please. Dry."

Fries? They sell those here? "Oh.. that actually sounds good. I'm starving." Good guess on Janet's part!

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"White wine? Seriously?" Janet lifts a brow at her friend, then shrugs at the waiter. He flashes a charming smile, clasps his hands obsequiously in front of him, and backs away from their table with a half-bow. "Sure thing, ladies," he promises, and disappears into the swirling melee.

"See, look how fun this is," Janet tells Pepper, and bats at her knee with a playful expression. "When was the last time you actually got out and /enjoyed/ life a little bit? My secretary goes everywhere with me, and I give him *plenty* of time off. He got married last year, him and his hubs went up to Vermont for like, a month. Rented them a suite at this little B&B, told him to come back when they were sick of looking at each other," she says.

Janet looks around the room, surveilling it with a regal expression; her posture is both relaxed and immaculate, as if expecting someone to notice her from afar or snap her picture suddenly. Janet knows how to always be in just the right light, it seems. "You need to lay down some ground rules with Tony. Or he needs to lay them down with you," she tells Pepper. "I get 'working hard', but life's for the living, if you ask me."

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Yes," Pepper defends her choice, "I happen to like it." That's said with a laugh, followed with an affectionate smile for her friend. Her voice casts a little lower but still able to be heard, "I also know how much I can drink of it." Before she gets drunk. Very important that!

As the waiter disappears, Pepper watches the exit before she looks at the large room with all its visitors. A small wave here and there is given, a quick smile and laugh before she returns her attention to her friend.

"Now, no. I like what I do. And while I do sometimes.." Nope, not going there. Pepper changes tack, and laughs softly, "I am fine. I don't need to lay any ground rules with Tony. I don't own him. And he does try to throw me out if he finds that I'm working later than he expects. But those are the times when we actually get to talk." She smiles at the obvious memories before she shrugs, "And it's nice."

Green eyes narrow, and Pepper is leaning a little conspiratorially on the table, her tones echoing her manner and mien, "I am //not// going to talk about Tony all night. He's.. home. I think. Or, he might be out."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh sure, totally," Janet says, nodding her head in a vague circle. "Tony, topic off-limits, persona non grata, etc. etc.," she says. Fingers trail back and forth across the table with a near-inaudible sussurance of manicured nailed on granite, and then she plants her elbow on the countertop, chin in palm, in a playful mimery of Pepper's conspiratorial tone.

"So... now that we've gone over that you're not talking about him, your work relationship with him, and you speculating about where he is and what he's doing, what should we talk about next?"

Eyebrows bob once and then her eyes widen, deepening the dark liner around them. "Because I get the sense you absolutely /don't/ want to talk about him. Which I will--" she sits upright, and cuts a hand horizontally between them. "totally respect, believe me," she assures Pepper, and the sincerity is so absolutely assuring that someone with Pepper's experience around CEOs would know Janet's laying it on thick.

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Totally," Pepper nods, her smile growing again, easily finding purchase in her eyes as well. "Off limits."

Those green eyes narrow playfully, and her tones lilt, "You don't believe me." Easily a statement versus a question.

"Okay. Topic. When are we going to London? When does the fashion show circuit start up there? Or.. better yet. When are we going to get together over your portfolios to pick the winners?" Pepper reaches out with a foot to gently kick her friend, "Deadlines." Ha!

She laughs again, shakes her head, and sits back in her seat once more, adding finally, "You won't totally respect that, will you."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Not even a little," Janet acknowledges, with a total lack of shame or conscient. The waiter appears at her elbow and deposits drinks and finger food; the fries are served up in a tall container, fried in truffle oil and with exotic dipping sauces.

"I mean, do you /want/ to talk about London? Schedule planning? What to pack, what to wear, maybe look at hats for a trip to the Churchill Downs?" she teases Pepper. A fry gets dragged through the sauce bowl and crunched carefully, then Janet wipes her fingers daintily on a napkin and reaches for her drink. She bites the straw to avoid smudging her lipstick and her lips hollow with a few sips. "I just can't stand a secret, and telling me you don't want to talk about something tells me you really *do* want to talk about it. But you just don't want to admit it. So I'll try, but, like--" she reaches for another fry, nibble nibble, swallow. She gestures vaguely with the chewed end. "But my heart won't be in it."

Pepper Potts has posed:
Another laugh escapes the redhead, and she shakes her head. "You're asking me, a woman who spends most of her waking hours scheduling and planning if I enjoy doing that for friends." Her expression is deadpanned. "Really."

And there's the wine!

Pepper takes hold of her glass and smiles at the waiter bringing it, adding a 'thank you' to the tail end before returning her attention to her friend. A laugh echoes in her voice as she shakes her head, the smile remaining, "There is no secret. Nothing. I'm just.. happy." Beat. "I'm allowed to be."

Pepper takes another sip of her wine before she sets it down on the small, fancy table, her fingers playing with the stem, "Besides, I have no clue where to buy one of those hats for the Downs."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm, then I am /glad/ you're happy, aaaand I'm going to assume you're happy for entirely uninteresting reasons," Janet tells Pepper, eyes widening again minutely as she nibbles on a french fry. It's a little mocking, but not in a cruel way.

"I'm going to Madrid with Steve this weekend. We're turning the phones off, ditching work-- four days, five nights, and we're isolating from everyone and everything. It's *impossible* to schedule a weekend off with him. First thing he says, 'oh I gotta run it past Fury'," she says, mimicking his voice. "This is why I never could cut it working for someone else in the private sector. I like being my own boss."

She looks across the room again; eyes catch someone looking their way, and she pivots back to Pepper and nudges her calf under the table. "I think that's Bill Chalmers," Janet tells Pepper, and gestures at a tall fellow in his 30s wearing a grey suit and a black turtleneck. He lifts a drink when he spots the women looking his way. "Star reporter for the Planet's Nightly News. He got a Pullitzer for... something with homeless kids?" she hazards. "I'unno. I think he's checking you out though."

Pepper Potts has posed:
"Totally, uninteresting reasons," Pepper repeats, her tones gently and laughingly underscoring the words. She's being teased, absolutely, and it's just nice to be out with a friend.

To hear of a vacation, though, Pepper's the first, "I am envious. That will be amazing, I'm sure." There's something wistful in her tones, but purely for her friend's benefit. Her eyes narrow at the mention of Fury, "No.. Steve needs to step out of that shadow." That's how she feels!

The wine glass is lifted lightly again, and taking a small sip, Pep catches the direction where Janet is looking. Her breath catches, and she ducks her head. "Okay, handsome." And intelligent! "But I'm really not looking.."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mmmmhmm," Janet says, and her eyes narrow at Pepper. Suspicious! Pepper's evasion triggers Janet's latest hunger for drama and social intruigue. Some people need electrolytes; Janet craves gossip.

"I'm not gonna badger you into giving your number out. Well, not tonight," Janet amends. "Small victories; I got you out of the office and you're wearing something suitable for a candid in People. I'll call that a win. But London, I'm thinking, a couple weeks out? If Tony can spare you," she says, hand uplifting at Pepper quickly. "I know a trip to Europe's asking a lot. Give him some excuse like looking at overseas holdings or something. Would be a nice little trip for you. Some shopping, catch a horse race, do the society thing-- I've got some cousins who are part of the Dutch aristocracy, Hapsburgs a few generations back and over. Not gonna get an audience with the Queen, but I'm friends with the stylist for Princess Middleton. Went to boarding school together. We'll link up with her, make with the friendlies, write the whole thing off as a business expense?" Janet asks, with a lofted brow.

Pepper Potts has posed:
Of course Pepper knows her friend and her penchant for gossip! It's one of the things she likes so much about Janet, amongst the many. Pepper laughs again, and takes another small swallow of wine, her gaze looking over the top of her glass again.

Bill Chalmers doesn't completely approach; he's got proximity without being obtrusive. Letting the ladies set the pace, as it were.

Which is fine by Pepper. The moment the consideration for going overseas begins to sound more and more a reality, the more Pepper shifts a little uneasily in her seat. Finally, she shakes her head and reaches out to put a hand on the slender forearm of the other lady. "Janet, I'm a PA. I'm a secretary. I'd love to meet your family.. and I'm sure your friends are lovely." She smiles, that hint of ruefulness returning, "I'm sure I'd be lost. I-I-I mean, the Princess? Who wouldn't want to meet her?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet pauses mid sip and sets her drink down with a sigh. Eyes narrow at Pepper again, but this time in an indication of flaring irritation. "Pepper, you're not 'just a PA', any more than I'm just a seamstress," she says, voice clipped with irritation. "I know Fortune 500 CEOs with less werewithal than you. In /fact/, the only thing that a lot of us have over you is that we don't have a conscience," she says, and bites down on a citrus fruit on the edge of her glass. "You get over that last little hurdle, and Potts Enterprises could be the next great American company. I don't even care what you make," she says, around the tiny morsel of food, and waves the rind around. "Mousetraps, I guess. So!"

She hoists her glass and offers a toast to Pepper. "Here's to a fun night out, and to London," Janet proposes. "And remembering to enjoy living life for it's own sake," she says, and grins brightly at her friend.

After all, life's for the living!