2171/Treading Water

Treading Water
Date of Scene:	20 June 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Back Yard
Synopsis:	Avengers enjoy some last relaxing moments before world events call for attention
Cast of Characters:	Wanda Maximoff, Greer Grant, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Janet van Dyne

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Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The day is a nice one, almost as if in contrast for events that will later befall other parts of the city. Wanda Maximoff walks out of the mansion, wearing a bikini with a wrap about her hips, carrying a towel and with a basket of other items. She goes over to the pool and sets her things down, getting out some waterproof sunscreen to rub into her exposed skin.

Then she goes over to the diving board. Because the Avengers pool must have a diving board, safety measures be damned. She makes the brisk little walk-jog to the end, bouncing into the air and diving in to the waters kept at the perfect temperature by the mansion staff.

Wanda comes back up to the surface, brushing her wet hair back and sighing, then floating on her back with her arms out a little bit. Just treading water.

Greer Grant has posed:
"Oh. Didn't expect anyone else to be up so early, much less in the pool." Greer says as she steps over to the lip of the pool. The claws of her feet clicking against the floor. Might be time for a trim. Greer considers but shrugs as she steps into the water off the steps and takes the towel from around her neck and tossing it haphazardly towards a chair, uncaring if it makes it or not.

    With her shins wet, Greer puts her hands forwards and dives into the water, more belly flops, but she stays under and pushes through the water a few times before breaking the surface and gasps for air.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda opens her eyes which had drifted closed as she hears Greer. "Nice and relaxing time, before too much of the city traffic noise starts up," she says. Though the block-size of the estate, and the trees and other vegetation block some of that noise, it's still New York City.

Wanda watches Greet jump into the water, waiting for her to return to the surface. The Transian woman says in her soft accent, "So there is another myth busted. The one about cats and water," Wanda says, the soft grin on her face making it a gentle joke. "Are you often out here this early as well?" Wanda asks.

She turns over upright to tread water, and then does a breast stroke with her head above water over to the side of the pool. She pulls herself up, going to her bag and getting a pair of cans of juice from a small cooler in her bag. She brings them over, setting them on the edge where they can be reached from the water, before slipping back into the pool.

Greer Grant has posed:
    Greer rolls her eyes playfully. "Most cats don't like water, tigers love it, and Greer did most of her life." The tiger says with a kind of smile as she floats there, her tail helping with floating more than her hands. "Oh, if I'm not hungover or if I actually wake up here I'll find my way down here and enjoy the water for sure." Curious of what the witch is doing climbing out of the pool as soon as she had gotten in. "What about you? Find yourself in the water often or is it some sort of indulgence that you didn't get to do often growing up?" Greer asks sounding like some sort of off brand psychoanalyst.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"We did find some time to swim, kids being kids. Though just staying fed and sheltered was enough of a focus for Pietro and I that even on our own there wasn't as much time for that as a kid would like," Wanda says. She opens up a bottle of the juice, motioning towards the other for Greer to help herself.

"Clint's been pushing me in training even more than before. Which is for the good. So a nice relaxing swim, and a massage, is a good way to get limber for the day, I've been finding," Wanda says.

Wanda sips more of the juice then secures the lid and replaces it on the deck around the pool before drifting back out into the water further. "How have you been getting along? We haven't had much time to talk lately I'm afraid. For which I apologize. There's always something else that needs doing, it seems."

Greer Grant has posed:
    "Not to sound rude, but I'm glad I didn't have to deal with those struggles as a kid. You're way stronger than I am." Tigra responds to Wanda and frowns slightly refusing the drink for now as she continues to float in the water but fidgeting under the subtle waves.

    "I don't seem to line up with anyone else's schedules plus the whole 'cat' thing, I don't hold it against anyone. You are all still my family. Not really anywhere else I feel I belong, y'know?" Greer deals casually as she swims closer to Wanda and deals. "Are you going to deal me for a massage cause, I gotta warn you..." Tigra says poking her furry hands above water with their razer sharp claws on display.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda floats there looking thoughtful and then gives a tiny shrug as she says, "I think everyone's life is difficult from their own perspective. True, there are things that are worse to have to deal with. But I doubt anyone has lived who hasn't felt they made it through adversary. Life always finds ways to test us," she comments.

She goes back to a back float and raises a hand. "See, I'm all philosophical out here on a nice day," Wanda says with a soft laugh. "Well, we're glad to have you here. And no," she says, laughing again as she replies, "I'll let the mansion staff handle the massage. They do a pretty fine job of it," she says. "They do manicures too, but not sure that would be your thing," she adds in a light-hearted tone.

Greer Grant has posed:
    "I havent had a mani-pedi in forever!" Greer announces as she rolls onto her back and floats, her tail bobbing in the water to her right and twitching softly so that she spins in a lazy circle.

    "Sounds to me like you be a thoroughly planned day." Tigra remarks pitifully as she stares up to the sky and adds a whole lot of nothing.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"Just the start of it anyway," Wanda says. "Before the sleepy heads have gotten up and about, hopefully." Wanda slowly makes her way back to the edge, grabbing the bottle of juice and removing the top to take a sip.

Wanda Maximoff rests a hand on the poolside to hold herself there while she drinks. "So do you have any family in the area? I don't believe I've ever heard too much about your own past," Wanda offers. "If it wouldn't be prying that is. My own family life is kind of... out there on display. Certainly here with Pietro, but even in the larger world, with my sister." She leaves out the mention of her father, dead now in Genosha.

Greer Grant has posed:
    "Gotta start somewhere. The beginning is usually the best place." Tigra says as she rolls over to put her face down and then swim over to the edge. Might as well and drink some of the juice offered. She hooks her arm at the elbow onto the top of the side and uses her hands to open the drink.
    "I don't much remember my family... Tigra is an old soul and Greer is running from some past relationships she'd rather forget fully. Live in the here and now, remember, cat." Tigra's tail appears out of the water near Wanda's face and wiggles before her briefly. "This juice is great!" Tigra reports with a grin.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The pair are just floating in the water. Wanda brought a basket of things out with her that are setting over by a lounge chair, including sunscreen and a little cooler from which two bottles of juice have been brought out, sitting on the edge of the pool where they can be reached easily from within.

Wanda lets herself float back again, looking up at the blue sky overhead and the small clouds rolling through here and there. It's a quiet day that is at odds with events that will happen later, but for now, the Avenger's mansion is enjoying one of those rare, tranquil moments.

"Well, cats and witches always get along famously as I've been led to believe," Wanda tells Tigra. "So hopefully you and I will have no problems getting on together," she offers with a warm grin. "Everyone here as a lot in their past," Wanda agrees in a quieter tone. "Probably one of the reasons we all get along as much as we do."

Greer Grant has posed:
    "True that, we're a super powered house of damaged goods, but I'll do my best to keep you all away from my past. I'd like to think I'm the go with the flow Avenger." Tigra smirks before finishing the juice rapidly and then pushing off from the wall.

    A deep breath and then the cat dives straight down, always one to try and reach the bottom of the pool at least once, for some reason... She can't explain why, it's just something Tigra enjoys doing.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam Wilson is an early riser by nature, and that pattern holds true this morning. Rather than getting a jump on his day as he usually does, though, he has decided to put in some relaxation time before what is sure to be a taxing trip to D.C. in the afternoon. He has to deal with a few lingering bureaucratic snarls before signing on with SHIELD, and it's sure to be a headache.

That's for later, though. For now, he is in his fluffiest robe, he has a big greasy breakfast, and he has the sports section. Outside in the morning sun seems like the perfect place to enjoy all three.

"Morning," he greets the others, plopping down in a lounge chair and giving them a wry look. "We sharing deep dark secret back stories? And here's me without my wallet full of tear-stained snapshots."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda swims over to the side of the pool as Tigra goes for the bottom. The Eastern European woman flutter kicks hard with her feet, propelling herself up, with the aid of her hands pushing up on the pool's edge, allowing her to bend a knee and step up out of the water without using the ladder.

"Morning Sam," Wanda says. "Oh, just chit chatting. Though if you're feeling in a sharing mood we won't stop you," the woman tells him in a lightly teasing voice. She walks over towards the diving board again, droplets of water falling to either side of the wet footprints she leaves on the deck around the pool.

"Do you have a busy day planned, Sam, or just planning to enjoy the weather?" Wanda steps up onto the diving board, making sure where Tigra is so she doesn't land on her coming up from the bottom. Wanda walks forward and jumps, bouncing on the springy board and up into the air, just doing a simple dive that lands her in the water with a quiet splash. She swims back to the surface again after, wetting her hair to lay it back flat on her head.

Greer Grant has posed:
    Tigra stays under quite a while, enjoying the weightlessness of the depths and enjoying watching the locks of her hair waft about in the currents and splashes of Wanda. A few minutes pass and Tigra pushes off the bottom. She nearly shoots out of the water entirely but gasps like a child who was trying to see how long they can hold their breath. A few seconds later she spots "Hey Sam!" and to punctuate her greeting, Greer splashes water in the direction of Wanda and Sam playfully.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam makes a face. "Yeah, actually, I have to head into DC later and deal with some national security stuff," he answers Wanda. "Formalities, mostly, but the brass love to make you jump through hoops. I hope you get to take it easy, at least -- if so, relax extra for both of us."

When Tigra surfaces and launches water at them, Sam ducks behind his newspaper, swings his plate out of the way, and laughs. "Agh!" he yelps in mock protest. "Watch the toast!" But when he brings breakfast back onto his lap, the food is still dry. "Guess I'd better eat up before we have any more unexpected showers," he comments dryly, snagging a strip of bacon and taking a bite.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda gives a soft laugh at the playfulness from Tigra. She repeats what the other woman has said a couple of times. "Cat." Wanda flashes the warm grin to Tigra and then splashes back at her, but leaves Sam out of it.

After, Wanda swims down to the far end of the pool, standing up in the shallow end. She gathers her hair in her hands to lay it back gently along her back. Wanda says in her typical slow way of speaking that gives each word its own moment, "I do not think I would envy you, dealing with the bureaucracy," Wanda tells Sam Wilson. "I have been mostly lucky to avoid that for most of my life."

She pauses and then gives a sigh and a little movement of her head as if she's thinking of some moments that counter that claim. In the first days after Genosha, she was a wreck. And a wreck who had to take on the mantle of leadership of the remains of the small nation. Largely single-handedly until the return of Lorna, and government officials who had been away from the island at the time, plus others stepping forward to help. "Ok, maybe not always. Thank God for having Lorna," she comments.

Greer Grant has posed:
    "You worry too much." Tigra says with a shrug of her shoulders even as she continues to float in the deep end, her hair soaked and clinging to her face, head, shoulders and ears in snake like stands. "But, I would rather you two worry more than me, you're both more level headed and thoughtful than I. I just kinda... claw my problems..." Stripes says kind of hard on herself for a moment. "You need a buddy to come with you Sam?"

Sam Wilson has posed:
"You think you can stay ahead of the game, but it has a way of catching up with you," Sam comments, perhaps reinforcing what Wanda has left unspoken. He shakes his head and continues, in a singsong self-deprecating voice, "'Oh, sure Steve, I'll put on the wings. We'll save the world! No big deal! Why would there be paperwork later?'"

He snorts, munches down some more bacon, and then cants his head to the side as he considers Tigra's offer. "I appreciate it," he finally replies, "but honestly I think I need to be as much a normal airman as I can for these meetings. Something familiar, you know?"

He shrugs and adds, to soften the blow, "If it were about me being comfortable, I'd absolutely want you there. But this is about making /them/ comfortable, you know?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda wanders around the shallow end of the pool. There's a few leaves floating there and while she could just pick them out, or even whisk them away off into the vegetation, she shepherds the leaves with little waves of water over towards the skimmer. There's something therapeutic about it.

"It's a nice offer though," Wanda tells Tigra as she turns her attention back to her teammates. "I need to go to Genosha and check on some crops. Rather than try to farm the best areas, we're starting out keeping things close enough together they are easier to defend. Which meant moving some soil and aiding the plants a bit. Though that isn't something that should be kept up for ever. Better to bend ourselves to mother nature than the other way around," she comments.

"Sam are you taking a quinjet? I can teleport you down if you'd like, though I know it's a quick enough flight."

Greer Grant has posed:
    "I thought it WAS nice. Thank you Wanda." Tigra says before turning around and swimming to the farthest part of the deep end and reaching up to grasp onto the diving board and pulls herself out of the water with her great strength.

     Tigra wrings the water out of her hair momentarily before turning to face the water again before she bounces heavily against the board and launches herself several feet into the air before curling up on herself in the air and making as great a splash as she can.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"There's always paperwork, wings or not."

Sounding amused, the blond man toes the back door shut with his own plate of breakfast in-hand. The other sports a big cup of coffee, the mug with its 'NUMBER ONE DAD' across its side, and he takes a moment to stay well out of range of the splash zone of Tigra.

"Might want to move a chair back," he adds to Sam, smiling quietly as he takes up one beyond reach of any splash but for someone very intent in purpose. He's in a plain grey t-shirt and khaki pants, barefoot on the poolside deck warmed by morning sun. He seats himself near enough to Sam now, if pulled back a little. There's no newspaper to shield him.

"American judge gives it an 8," he calls out to Tigra and gives a glance over at Wanda, as if to see if she agrees or not.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam does scoot back, feet on the pavement and chair legs scraping loudly. His legs still get wet, up to the terrycloth hem of his white robe. That was a hell of a splash.

"Think I'll take a Quinjet most of the way, then swap it out for a rental car for the last leg," Sam answers with a laugh. "Like I said, we're projecting 'normal' as much as possible, which means keeping the superhero stuff to a minimum. No buzzing the Capitol, fun as that might be." He downs a forkful of fried egg, shrugs, and then adds, "The airspace is restricted, anyway."

He gets the feeling he might have miffed Tigra, so he offers apologetically, "Yeah, it was thoughtful, thanks. Have a few rum drinks without me."

"And hey there, Steve. Nice of you to join us."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda moves from the shallow end back towards the deeper area. She lets the water from Tigra's splash rain down on her, chuckling softly. At least she's already wet. The beautiful day has just a few clouds in the sky. Wanda glances up at once and says, "That kind of looks like Janet in flight. I mean if you, she'd be flying that way..." Wanda says. It probably takes a little bit of imagination to see it.

A wave is given to Steve from the pool as he emerges. "Steve, hope the morning is treating you well," she offers as she swims over to the poolside where a pair of bottles of juice have been sitting. Had been sitting until they were knocked over by the wave of water, though the lids keep the contents intact.

Wanda rights them and then takes one and removes the cap to take a sip. "So how are your Do doing this year?" Wanda asks the latest arrival. She doesn't follow sports that closely, but has learned which team is Steve's favorite. "So have you managed to make it out to any baseball games yet this year, Cap?" she asks.

Greer Grant has posed:
    Tigra breaches the water again and whips her hair back behind her head like she was in a shampoo commercial. "Captain... That was at least an 8.5 don't sell me short." She says before looking back to Sam and pouting, "What better way to make yourself appear normal than by having someone like me near by? How do you appear thinner without losing weight? You hang out with fat people." Tigra taps her nose and smirks at the rum comment with a wink before she swims to rest her elbows on the ledge next to Wanda and the drinks with a smile and a lazy tail behind her.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"'s'good to see you too, Sam." The Captain means it as he says it in his quiet way. The coffee he set aside still steams, the wisps pale and bright in the sunlight. Glancing up from working on some scrambled eggs, Steve takes a moment to respond to the question from Wanda.

"Haven't had a chance just yet, but hope to still. Won't forget to wear my baseball cap," he adds with a wry little smile. The magic of anonymity and those hats remains an infinite amusement to him. "Dodgers're doing alright, could be doing better."

Tigra still snags his attention and he grins. "You go do one of those...triple...backflip, half-twist, pike jumps 'nd you'll get at least an 8.5. Did one last week," the man shares. Fibs. Mostly. Maybe. And sips his coffee with a smile.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Downing more of his breakfast while the others are talking, Sam hums and nods at Tigra's explanation. "Now I see what you're getting at," he answers her. "Thing is, what worries them about the superhero thing is that I'm involved with people outside their chain of command." He gives a friendly smile and a helpless shrug, then concludes, "If you ask me, it doesn't get much farther outside their chain of command than you."

He turns and shakes his head at Steve, chiding, "Man, we can't all be overachieving science experiments. Some of us go to the pool to relax, remember?" He hasn't even gotten /in/ the pool yet.

Greer Grant has posed:
    "At least you didn't make a jungle love joke Sam." Tigra says as she pulls herself up and out of the water with a look to Steve as she steps over towards her wet towel and picks it up off the damp ground. "I could do that..." She lies and then twists her shoulders and waist and hips, trying to spray the water off her fur like a cat or dog might. Able to twist and turn like that makes drying of faster if not easier. "You wound me Steve, Wanda, beat him up. I'm gonna go get me some bacon too."

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff laughs softly at the exchanges. "Well, we definitely march to our own drummer," she says. "Though I often worry that drummer is from Tony's selecting ACDC or someone like that." Her eyes twinkle enough to show the joke of it.

Wanda takes a sip of her juice. "We could put together a little team outing sometime when things are slow," Wanda suggests. "I don't pay much attention to such things, but maybe try to plan ahead when they are in town," she says, and not going any closer to the fact Steve's team plays half of its games in California now.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Who relaxes in a pool?" A wonderment over the edge of his coffee mug in play-along with the tease at hand from Steve, who then outright laughs as Tigra bids his own jab worthy of a pop or two. A hand rises in shielding as he gets some of the off-spray from Tigra's shake-out and he laughs more, lifting up a knee in an aborted body-curl.

"Lemme at least finish my coffee if we're gonna throw down over my worth as a dive judge," he begs of the crowd as a whole, giving Wanda another half-grin. "'m not qualified, 's'true." He settles back into his chair and settles down as well, replying more quietly, "Team'd probably appreciate an outing like that. Maybe take a vote, pick a few options? Not everybody's a baseball fan." His broad shoulders shrug in acceptance of the fact.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Sam shakes his head. "Nah, I know where those jokes come from. Count me out." He picks up his own last, crispy strip of bacon, salutes her with it as she heads back into the mansion, and says, "As for the bacon, I highly recommend it. There should be plenty left." Then, since he's holding it anyway, he eats the last of his own.

Sam considers Wanda's suggestion, his expression thoughtful. "Avengers West Coast, huh? It's got a ring to it," he muses. "I wouldn't mind the weather, that's for sure. I'd ask if Tony has a mansion out in California, too, but let's be real: we all know the answer."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet emerges from the kitchen a few minutes after Steve does. Steve looks like he's heading to a PTA meeting in a few hours, the socialite's wearing a stylish black bikini, riding low on her hips and with a simple tube top held in place with a gold ring over her sternum. In her left hand is a brightly colored towel and her new Stark phone; in the other, a plate of food. She walks it over to Steve and waves it enticingly near his face. "I'm not eating all of this," she informs him. Then she retrieves a single piece of bacon from the platter and turns to the others while nibbling on it. Her fingers uplift and wiggle from the morsel, reflected in her dark sunglasses. "Morning everyone, I'm glad there's a lifeguard on duty." She gives the side of Steve's chaise a *thunk* with the edge of her shoe, then steps out of her heels and sprawls out on her own lounge chair. "Did I hear something about California?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda announces, "The Transian team didn't make the diving contest, so the judge has resigned in protest." She was in the water during the water shedding so thankfully didn't face the fate that Steve and Sam did.

Wanda makes her way to the steps in the shallow end, walking out of them and over to where her things are set. She towels off and glances up as another person joins them. "Morning Janet, how are you doing today?" she asks. Wanda brushes her hair back and then gets some sunglasses from her bag, slipping them on as she takes a seat in the lounger chair and tilts it back about 45 degrees, getting some sun but still upright enough to look at people in the conversation.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Tony's mansion out west might be smaller'n this place," Steve says with a tilt of his head back towards the Mansion proper. By his little smile, he's amused at Sam's wonderings. Another deep sip of his coffee and then there's a plate in front of his face. He leans back a second to avoid nose-planting into the Wasp's collection of breakfast and gives her a wry side-glance.

"You know me, Shortcakes, 'm all about leftovers," he replies to the woman as she settles herself. No argument against the claim of being lifeguard; Steve would go after anybody drowning in the pool as it stands, even if it meant counting his coffee as a loss. "Somebody did mention California."

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Hey, Janet," Sam greets the newcomer, getting near the end of his own meal, which he's been focusing on at the expense of the newspaper. "We were just considering how far we'd have to take Steve to get him in range of his home team," he explains. "If we're going cross-country, might as well make a trip of it -- I guess that's the conclusion."

"As for mansions, who can keep track? A historical estate here, a sprawling smart home there. They just start to pile up after a while."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Morning sweetie, I'm great," Janet beams at Wanda. The conversation's interesting enough that she keeps her chair propped partially up, curling her legs towards her and resting her elbow on the arm of the lounge. It also keeps her in easy reach of the plate Steve's now holding, and she reaches for another piece of bacon despite her earlier proclamation.

"I think Tony's got a place in Malibu," Janet contributes helpfully between bites. She gestures agreement at Sam while chewing.

"I have a summer house on Rodeo, but it's just a bitty thing, it's like... half the size of my penthouse. If you're taking a trip you might as well stay there, the Beverly Hills Hotel is owned by the Sultan of Brunei and he's a total asshole."

She reaches for more bacon. "Wait, what're we talking about?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda Maximoff keeps a straight face at the mention of half the size of Janet's penthouse. "Sometimes I think you'd have gone crazy in the places Pietro and I have lived. Stayed," Wanda says. "Though you'd probably have whipped them into shape while we stood gaping," she adds in her slowly delivered English, a smile with the words making it complimentary of Janet's go-get-it-ness.

Wanda gets out some more suntan lotion and applies it while the group talk. "We were talking about seeing a baseball game. Steve's favorite team," Wanda explains further for Janet. "Sam, does DC have a team? I knew a few of the team names but I don't recall if I've ever heard of one there."

The bottle of fruit juice is sipped from after Wanda's done with the lotion. "Janet, how is the fashion house doing? It feels like forever since we've been to one of those big galas together."

Steve Rogers has posed:
There's a grumble from the Captain about the current locale of his favored team -- the Dodgers -- and he forks up more egg as if to stopper up his mouth against the off-chance of a commentary sure to end up impassioned rant about the TERRIBLE idea that was MOVING THE TEAM TO -- eggs, yes.

Taking another piece of bacon for himself, Steve sets aside the plate on the nearby table between lounge chairs and focuses on eating it slowly while sipping his coffee. "DC's got, what...the Nationals?" A glance over at Sam to confirm this baseball team's presence.

Sam Wilson has posed:
Although Sam had intended rattling off a list of pricey mansions like the contents of a junk drawer as a joke, he takes a second to remind himself that some of his compatriots come from the sorts of backgrounds where that's not intrinsically silly. He finishes off the last of his eggs as Janet dishes out the hot gossip about the Sultan, and with a swirl of toast to clean up the yolk, he's done.

"Yeah, the Nats," he answers Wanda and Steve, nodding. "They won the World Series last year, actually. Not that I think we're convincing Steve to switch loyalties anytime soon." He grins and shrugs, standing from his chair and tugging off his robe, leaving him in a pair of black and gold patterned swim trunks. "You follow a team for a century or so, you develop attachments. I get it."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Steve's oooooold," Janet agrees with Sam. She draws the word out and leans over to grin at Steve teasingly. "I told him I was taking a trip to LA for a weekend and the first words out of his mouth were 'bring the Dodgers back with you.' I thought he was just encouraging a wild weekend, then he started talking about arbeeeyes and outings and--" Janet flips a hand in the air and sits back in her seat, but not before giving the empty plate a disappointed look. "Aww, you ate it all," she mutters at Steve.

The phone comes up and she sends a text message off with lightning fast swipes of her fingers before focusing on Wanda. "Fashion house is doing great honey, thanks for asking. I've been popping around Europe, it's that time of year for the shows. I've got a travelling showcase for the Met that's in... Tampa now, I think. I need to go check on it, make sure nothing's burned down."

A familiar face appears in the doorway, holding a serving tray. Janet's personal attendant slips past her lounge chair, smooth as a waiter, and offers her a plate of bacon and what looks like slightly fizzy orange juice. "Anyone else want a mimosa?" she offers, before bidding him depart.

The fashionista bites down on the straw to avoid marring her makeup. "I still want to do a cocktail party. Put all of you in my outfits. No runway walks, just chatting and being the beautiful people you are. Hey Sam!" she says, raising her voice. "You wanna hang out with a bunch of supermodels for an evening? I'll lend you a tux!"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda gives a little wave of her hand with a, "No thank you," to the offer of the beverage. "Already have some juice. Plus I expect Clint is probably going to run me through a training course today so I'd better be ready and on my toes," she tells Janet.

She gives a soft grin about the further talk about Steve's passion for his favorite team. "I've been to a couple of games, when I was at Columbia. And football too. I can't quite decide which I like better. Football was far more exciting to watch, even if I couldn't tell what was going on most of the time. Baseball was... what's the right word?" Wanda says, pausing in thought. She finally ventures in her soft accent, "Relaxed? It was like being there was as much of the event as the sport itself?"

She takes another sip of her juice. "Sam, why is it called the World Series if there are only American teams in it?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Dodgers 'til the day I die." The mutter comes alongside a faint smirk. The Captain is fully aware of how he's clinging more to a fond memory than the reality of the team relocating. His glance over at Janet is drolly amused in turn; RBIs indeed.

"I did eat it all 'nd you didn't bring back the Dodgers," Steve notes of the empty plate and his request as to Janet's trip to LA. Killing the last of his coffee, he then leans back in his mostly-upright lounge chair, fingers interlaced above his stomach. "It is more relaxed than football, yes," he agrees with a nod towards Wanda. "Lots of camaraderie involved in the stands while the game goes on. Long-game sort of sport, tactics're in prediction 'nd relying on your team's strengths."

He does glance over at Sam, his expression milk-mild, at Wanda's question. The laughter's all in his true-blues.

Sam Wilson has posed:
"No drinks for me, I've got meetings in DC later today," Sam answers Janet, sounding regretful. "But sign me up for the party; sounds like fun. Just so long as I don't have to be anywhere afterward." He tosses her a wink and continues to the pool's edge. He mounts the diving board, takes a few preparatory bounces to get his height where he wants it, and then executes a fairly neat forward tuck into the water. He comes up just a second later, treading water easily.

"It's the World Series because at first, no one else wanted to play," he answers Wanda's question, leaning back into an easy, stable backstroke. "Now it's already got the name, but we can't let the rest of the world in because we're scared of the Japanese teams. Fans in that country take it as seriously as Steve does."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"I'm more of a rugby girl," Janet says with a rolling shrug of one shoulder. "Lot more entertaining to watch, and it's easier to pick up a match when you're in Europe. It's either that or soccer, and I'm not following *two* boring sports."

More bacon is nibbled and she shifts in the chair to her other hip, pulling one knee in close and loosely wrapping her fingers around her shin. "I didn't know you were into any sports though, Wanda. I'd have figured you for soccer or ..." A pensive expression crosses Janet's face. "What is it they're into in the Balkans, it's like... something weird. Why do I want to say 'badminton'?"

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
The light in Wanda's eyes, more than anything else in her expression, might give the impression she the question she asked was meant as teasing, though otherwise she's doing a good job of playing the straight man with it. "Well, football, of the soccer variety, is definitely one of the biggest sports. We played some, especially when we were younger. After awhile... well, we were hunted by cultists and had to lay low, and move around a lot. I'm afraid it didn't lend itself well to sports," Wanda says.

After she's done, she pauses. "And listen to me. Just... Miss Brighten Up The Day aren't I? Sorry. I just kind of accept our lives as they were and sometimes I don't realize how it sounds to others until I've said something," she tells them with a small shrug.

She motions towards Steve. "At least you have a 'cool' story with the iceberg and all," she says. Yes, definitely teasing that time, trying to inject some levity back.

Sam Wilson has posed:
"Are people actually /into/ badminton?" Sam asks incredulously, moving to the edge of his pool. "Like, I'm sure people have fun playing it, but there can't be an actual fanbase. That's like being a fan of -- I dunno -- lawn darts." He does a lazy circuit of the pool, transitioning easily between side and backstrokes as he goes.

"Don't worry about it, Wanda," he tells the Romani woman when she apologizes. "No one worth being around is going to think less of you for just talking about your life." He pauses, grabs the edge of the deck, and hauls himself out of the pool, then straightens his trunks before amending, "Well -- unless you're a badminton fanatic. Following your favorite badminton team? player? around the country. Wow, get a new hobby. And this is coming from a guy who raised pigeons as a kid."

Steve Rogers has posed:
"'m glad it wasn't a Frozen crack, Maximoff." Steve still half-grins, very much aware of how he's never leaving the ice jokes behind. Ever. Sam's wise-crack about badminton is enough to make the Captain laugh. "Reminds me of handball, but with rackets 'nd stuffiness," says he of badminton. Still, he then gathers up his plate, stacked atop of Janet's plate, and his mug.

"'ppreciate seeing you all as always, but paperwork's 'bout done 'nd letting it sit won't finish it off. Behave." This to Janet with a lift of his brows and subtle smirk, as if he's well aware it's a failed attempt to even say it aloud. "Knock on my door if you need me." With that final missive to the group, he then disappears inside.