4407/The Last Muffin

The Last Muffin
Date of Scene:	14 December 2020
Location:	Avengers Mansion - Kitchen
Synopsis:	One muffin, three Avengers.
Cast of Characters:	Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Hank Pym

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Steve Rogers has posed:
An empty box is sitting on one of the kitchen counters. It once held muffins. The big ones from the bakery down around the corner. Large, and loaded with ingredients.

The last muffin, blueberry, is sitting on a plate next to an empty coffee mug. Beside both is a small notepad that Steve Rogers is writing on with a mechanical pencil. He jots down a few words and then sets the paper out beside the empty box. Steve then heads over to the coffee maker. Not the gourmet one with the individual serving containers. The old fashioned coffee pot. Steve adds some grounds to it and starts it up percolating.

The note that was left by the empty muffin box?

> I took the last muffin. If it was yours let me know.

            - Steve

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
There had been muffins from the night before. Wanda had set them out at the time, as well as clotted cream, and certainly there is butter in the refrigerator if one looked. And tonight?

The redheaded waifish witch wanders downstairs once more to find something to eat; dinner isn't really in the cards for the night. It's a foraging run for her, really, and as she enters the kitchen, she pauses in the entryway, her hand lifted to lay lightly upon the threshold. There is a smile, almost a smirk on her face as she watches the super soldier writing out something, with a muffin by his side. "Is that ransom note for muffin?" she asks with an amused accented lilt. "Is that last--"

Wanda enters the kitchen fully now, stopping at the table, her brows rising in askance, "If that is last muffin, we will have words."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym had heard something about a delivery from the bakery. However he lost a bit of time getting to the kitchen knocking out a few bugs in SHIELD prototype. All right, a lot of time. It was Hank, in his lab. Coming in from outside he nods politely to Steve, smiles at Wanda, and goes over to the box and stops when he reads the note.

Well that's a sort of, metaphor for his life lately. You snooze you loose. Also if you are hammering a plasma chamber together. He ponders the empty box a moment, gets out his phone and begins getting ingredients out of the cupboards and fridge, eggs, milk, flour, butter, -honey! Yes! He fist pumps at his luck, then begins mixing.

Wanda's words warrant a raised eyebrow. Waifish Wanda, irritated? Yeah, don't mess with petite women. He goes back to mixing, stealing glances. Ah schadenfreude!

Steve Rogers has posed:
The sound of the brewing coffee slowly falling into the pot can be heard as Steve turns towards the door as he hears Wanda. Her comment draws a soft chuckle and a disarming grin from him as Steve holds up his hands to show they are not going anywhere near the last muffin.

"The only words we'd need to have, are would you like me to warm that up for you?" he tells her. "I wasn't sure if they were anyone's in particular," he tells her, and motions towards the plate with a gesture that suggests she's free to take it.

Steve's blue eyes swing back to the kitchen doorway as Hank Pym comes in. A nod is given to the man. "Evening, Hank. How is your... work coming?" he asks, choosing a generic enough term rather than try to guess at what it is Hank Pynm is working on.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda leans her hip against the side of the table, her expression playful, and her arms cross to settle across her chest. In that moment, Hank walks in, and she gets a smile, and it is returned, with a nod. "You bake, Dr. Pym?" The sound of her tones strike a pitch of incredulity with a hint of impressedness. (If that's a word!) "What about chocolate chips?" All of a sudden, she's the overseer of muffins?

The redhead is //kidding//. Really. She's having fun, and her attention moves back to Steve as he offers up the last muffin in its entirity to her. Shaking her head, her arms fall, and she adds, "I could not. Please," and she waves a hand before she moves away from the table to the stove, just out of the way of Hank to put the kettle on for tea. Now, she's more than happy to let the gentlemen speak for a little while she prepares her evening drink.

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym shrugs while bent over his labors. "S'fine," he allows to Steve. Not time for polite talk. He pays attention to this like any other project, mixing the dry ingredients in one bowl. He considers some nuts in a container... nah they are suspect. "Where's your brother, Wanda... he could get us muffins -fast. Though the weather is terrible right now." The milk, butter, and eggs go in another bowl and get whipped around...

Okay, Wanda gets some attention. Yes.

"I bake, I cook, I mix very good cocktails. It's a matter of biochemistry.This is what we have on hand. Sorry, no chips Unless you can..." Hank does either an impression of Dr. Strange, flashing gang signs, or Keith Richards. In the process Wanda gets a speck of flour from his index finger on her nose. Purely accidental.

Steve Rogers has posed:
As Wanda relinquishes the threats of violence over the muffin, Steve's lips give a quick grin, the man looking to Hank Pym to see if he wishes to lay claim on the blueberry muffin before Steve takes it back into possession.

With Hank apparently preparing to bake, Steve picks up the plate and then carries plate and mug over to the coffee pot, which by now has a cup's worth in it. He fills his cup and sets the pot back, then turns to lean back against the counter while he holds the plate and breaks off a piece of the muffin.

A soft sigh of pleasure is given as he takes the bite. "Having fresh fruit year round is a bit of a treat," he comments as he tastes the large, sweet berries that were baked into the muffin.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
"My brother would eat muffins before they were delivered," comes with dry, most decidedly affectionate amusement, the words tossed over her shoulder. "Is good, though. Too skinny. He will never find wife like that." Wanda is apparently in reasonable spirits, given the magicky goings-on outside. A little more centered than before. Perhaps it is the fact there is company?

"I do not just.." and she wrinkles her nose the moment flour is accidentally placed at the tip. Wanda wipes at it with the back of her hand, and she finishes by setting the flame to the burner.

Wanda can empathize with the Captain on that one. Her lifestyle, fruit is dependent upon where she is and where she is. Markets are open, closed, and always to the season. "It was biggest change for me," she agrees. "I love fruit. Is sweet and very simple." Uncomplicated. Turning around and taking a step to the side to keep out of Hank's way as he bakes madly, her head cants, "What is your favorite fruit, Steven? Christmas is coming." That doesn't sound the least bit ominous there, does it?

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym says pleasantly, "Please enjoy the muffin, Steve. It's yours. I'm making some more." Hank continues the mixing. "There might be some chips or what have you in the pantry, if someone wants to look. There might be... raisins. Go well with the honey. If someone would look..." He combines the dry and wet ingredients with a flourish, somehow having gotten flour on his chin and the table. Probably the baking equivalent of blowing up a lab. Hmmm, muffin trays. They should have muffin trays. He smirks a little at Wanda talking about her brother.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve moves over the pantry door to check for Hank, glancing over his shoulder to Wanda as he answers her. "So many good choices, but always been a fan of apples," he tells her. He seems about to say more when he opens the pantry door, the hinges on it making quite the squeak. It draws Steve's attention back, an eyebrow going up slightly as he closes it and opens it again, the sound repeating.

Tony would probably let the staff know to oil it. There's a good chance that Steve will be taking care of the hinges himself later. For now though he rummages through the pantry as he returns to answering Wanda. "There's little better than a hot apple pie," he comments as he takes a few things from the pantry.

"Chocolate chips, and raisins," he tells Hank as he brings the items over. Afterwards, Steve reclaims his coffee cup, taking a sip, and then breaking off another piece of the muffin. "What about you?" he asks Wanda.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Hank's request for both chips AND raisins are met with a brief scowl. "You mix chip with dried fruit?" The disgust there! "It look like chip. You bite it and .. there is no chip." Wanda shakes her head and exhales in a soft yet theatric sigh. "Is horrible."

Once her kettle is on to boil, Wanda is looking in the cupboard next to Steve's, and when he opens it to look for the ingredients requested, she's opening hers with a *squeak* to get out her loose tea and a tea cup. And her tea pot.

Taking each down in order, when she's done, the door is closed once more.

"Apple is good," and she nods her approval. Not that he needed it, but! "Apple pie is better." As for her, though? "I like oranges. When you peel them, there is burst of scent. Your hands smell good all day, and you can share orange." As for what to make with them? Nope..

"Apple pie, then. Dr Pym?" There's a hint of formality, as if she'd forgotten the request to call him 'Hank'. "What is favorite fruit?"

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym accepts the bags of chips and raisins with a quiet 'thanks'. He looks at the raisins a moment, then Wanda, then places the raisins aside and adds chips to his batter. He found a muffin tray somewhere. He carefully pours batter into the tray. At some point he had turned on the oven, of course. He slides the trays in carefully. then again he's handled a lot of glassware gingerly. He closes the door with a foot.

He looks back to Wanda, frowning a little. "Mmmmm pears! Especially Anjou pears... and I thought I was Hank. When did I go back to Dr. Pym? Was it the flour on your nose?" Hank dabs at the counter and puts some flour on his nose."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve leans back against the counter again, slowly tearing off bites of the blueberry muffin. He eats it slowly, savoring the big, sweet berries that add so much to the flavor. "Sometimes it's a wonder to me that anyone cooks for themselves still," he comments as he watches Hank Pym put the muffins into the oven.

"Things are so plentiful. Delivery. You can get just about anything you want with a phone call," he says. Steve falls quiet at the end of it, and something in his expression might leave one wondering if he thinks that's really an improvement over his time or not.

He eventually seems to move on from that line of thought, nibbling another bite of the muffin. "You do have a good point about oranges," Steve agrees with Wanda. "I'm not sure I've ever heard someone else with pears as their favorite fruit. Do you like to eat them raw, or prepared somehow?" he asks Hank.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda laughs at the brief antic of Hank setting the flour on his own nose, and she reaches to wipe it off with a tip of her finger. "You are silly." There is her pronouncement.

The kettle begins to whistle, to sing its song, and with practiced ease, she turns off the burner, sets it to the side and first fills the teapot with the hot water, dumps it out, and refills with the tea leaves to steep. The witch's brew, as it were?

The redhead 'tsks' softly, green eyes a touch on the wistful side. "Markets. I love walking markets. So much life, so much noise. Then, when you come home, there is all in kitchen," like this, "all talking, cooking. No delivery." Again, Wanda can empathize, and in this, she completely agrees. She does walk the markets when she can. She prefers it because then? She can make her favorite recipes. Who hasn't struggled with her bigos? Or her paprikash? Or her spicier than it aught to be goulash?

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym shrugs and hefts the tea kettle. "I'm an odd duck. Pears? Raw usually, Captain. In a salad sometimes. Is there enough water in the kettle for as second cup? Don't think so. Ehh there are tea capsules for the coffee maker. No problem." The scientist preps a cup of tea for himself in the device then goes back to clean the counter. The bowls get placed in the sink to soak while he cleans.

He takes a deep breath and says, "There's a farmer's market in Columbus Circle. Not a lot of fruit this time of year, but there are preserves and cider and dried fruit, some meat and fish, raisins..." oh he didn't.

Steve Rogers has posed:
True blue eyes glance between the Transian woman and Hank Pym, as if suspecting raisins are going to be a thing going forward. It leaves Steve with a light-hearted expression and the start of a smile. The banter between his teammates seems to be something that he finds a little heart-warming perhaps.

Another sip of his coffee is taken as Steve watches Hank use the gourmet machine to produce the cup of tea. "There are some great markets," he agrees. "Or, well, I'm sure there still are," he amends quietly. "The city's changed a lot," he comments, looking thoughtful before taking another sip of the coffee. He glances towards the oven, gauging how much time is left on the timer.

Wanda Maximoff has posed:
Wanda makes a face at the thought of raisins, and a theatric sounding sigh exits the witch. Shaking her head, she takes the pot to set it on the table, out of the way of the oven. "Yes," she looks over her shoulder at Hank. "At 97th. I go there sometimes." The trip down memory lane, though, momentarily reminded her of all that she no longer has; and while there is some of that within the Avengers, that part of her life is long gone. Yet one more reason why she sometimes seems to rely upon her twin so heavily.

A cleansing breath is given, and sitting at the table, she continues, "If you wanted some tea, I could-" Oh.. the insta-tea that isn't tea. Eeeeugh..

Her gaze turns back to Steve, and she nods. "This is big city. But, I am sure it still feels same in places? This city is older than you." Say that with a smile! And she does. "It will outlive us all, I think."

Hank Pym has posed:
Hank Pym replies, "Oh you know of it. OK, good." He pours out the tea and sips it. He gives the timer he set at some point a glance, then goes to wash the bowls out. He takes washing up seriously. Some badly washing glassware cost him several days work and almost an eye. He works silently except for the running water and clink of bowls.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve finishes off the blueberry muffin, dusting his hands over the sink and then washing them. The contents of the coffee mug are finished off and then he cleans the mug out, drying it and putting it back in the spot where it can always be found. When it's not in his hand. Which is most of the time.

Steve looks over to the oven and tells Hank, "I'd better get out of here before those come out. They smell delicious, and I've already eaten enough tonight." He gives his stomach a little pat. "Wanda, if you want some company on one of those walks in the markets some time, let me know," he says. And with that he passes on out of the kitchen, heading back towards his room.