4534/A Midwinter Night's Dream

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A Midwinter Night's Dream
Date of Scene: 29 December 2020
Location: Avengers Mansion - Kitchen
Synopsis: Back scene, Janet has managed to get under Steve's skin. Plans are made for ice skating.
Cast of Characters: Steve Rogers, Janet van Dyne




Steve Rogers has posed:
The air of the burning factory is filled with smoke and fumes from chemical vats that have flames dancing atop them. Up on the rusty catwalk above, the air is a little clearer with fumes escaping through jagged holes in the roof. Outside the sound of fighting can be heard raging.

The Red Skull dashes forward through the smoke and haze, swinging an enormous wrench that has been turned into an impromptu weapon. Steve Rogers dodges out of the way, the wrench whistling past him and caving in the thick metal safety railing it strikes.

"The actions of you and your friends are too little, too late, Captain America!" the Nazi villain hisses at Steve in a thick German accent. "Hydra's good works are being done. This will only be the most minor of setbacks."

The building and catwalk are rocked by a sudden series of explosions that throw both men to the side. Stored munitions or high-tech Hydra weapons detonating as the raging fires below reached them. The two combatants come together, trading punches, knees and elbows as they grapple, then Steve lands an open-handed strike to the Red Skull's chest throwing him back several feet onto his back. "We'll find the rest of your operations, Red Skull, the same as we found this. The rest of the world has spoken, and the time for tyranny is over!" Steve tells him as Red Skull regains his feet.

In the distance behind his opponent where the walkway reaches a hall into an upper floor of the building, Steve spots the form of Janet van Dyne. Making the last few steps along the catwalk, her body clad in a black dress. Backless but clinging to her below, and with just enough dangling skirt to enhance the pronounced sway of her walk. A sway that holds Steve's eye as she disappears around the corner.

The giant metal wrench doesn't whistle this time as it impacts the side of Steve's head and everything goes black...

... clearing as he sits up in bed, blinking in the faint light of a moonbeam coming in through the slightly parted curtains. A hand goes to the side of his head where the wrench struck. No broken-in skull, let alone bruise, to show were the dream weapon had hit.

Steve Rogers has posed:
(Sometime in late 2018...)

Steve gives a soft groan and covers his face in his hands for a moment before shaking his head and drawing a deep breath. His familiar room in the Avenger's mansion. Just a dream.

Dreams about the war, Hydra and the Red Skull were not uncommon for him. While the war was old history for everyone else, for Steve it was but two years ago. The presence of Janet in the dream was something new though. Steve throws off his blankets and gets to his feet, going into the bathroom to splash some water on his face. On the way a glance at the clock shows it is just past 3 AM.

It shouldn't surprise him, that dream cameo. Steve had gone to The Nutcracker on his own despite asking Janet again if she'd attend with him. Well not alone, she'd given the other pair of tickets to a nice couple who ran a homeless shelter and had been the subject of a news segment. They had gushed about seeing the ballet, and also about donations of fabric for clothing to the shelter from JVD Fashion.

After, Steve had sent Janet a nice proper note thanking her for the tickets, and passing along the pair's gratitude. It hadn't garnered a response. Indeed, Steve had not spoken to Janet in the few weeks since apart from talking business during one group mission. But it seemed like every time he turned around, she was there in the distance, turning a bend in a hallway ahead of him. Or just stepping into her room as he rounded a corner. Until that night in the monitoring room as she left, Steve hadn't ever noticed the way she walked. Now he wondered how he had ever missed it, jumping out at him nearly once a day now.

If he didn't know better, Steve would have almost thought Janet was doing it on purpose.

Giving a sigh, Steve dries his face on a towel. Wearing a pair of shorts and a snuggly fitting t-shirt, he slides on some slippers and steps out into the hall to head down to the main kitchen, his suite's own small kitchen in need of a restock. 3 AM. Too early for coffee. Maybe a cup of tea to clear his head and help him get back to sleep.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Steve's not in there long before there's a shuffling of feet and someone else enters the kitchen. "Oh!" Janet sounds a little surprised to find Steve there. "I didn't think anyone else would be up. I'm just getting myself a little nightcap. Don't mind me~," she sings, and moves towards the countertop Steve's using. With her usual self-possession she simply steps into Steve's personal space to start availing herself of the coffee service.

Bedtime clothing for Janet appears to be a short-hemmed kimono robe, loosely belted with an elabourate silk knot cinched around her waist, and a pair of low kitten heels in black. A very keen eye would notice a touch of eyeshadow and mascara, the faintest hint of lipgloss. A 'no makeup' made-up appearance.

"What kind of tea are you drinking? There's a darling white tea that Wanda brought, I think it's quite nice." She leans into Steve's space and peers into his mug as if trying to divine what's in it by sight alone.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Though there's a gourmet coffee machine capable of making any number of flavored teas, Steve has a kettle heating on the stove. Little puffs of steam are starting to escape it and soon it will be ready to be poured into the mug that Steve has set out on the counter, the string of a teabag dangling over the side.

The man himself turns towards the door as if hearing Janet's heels before she quite makes it to the doorway. There's a brief moment of not-quite staring and a brief touch to the side of his head almost as if making sure he's not back in the dream. "Janet," he says quickly to cover for the pause. "Yes, woke up and thought maybe some tea would help me get back to sleep," he tells her.

He glances down at the mug as Janet does so as well. Steve picks up the teabag by the string and looks at the tiny label on the paper tab at the end. "It seems to be... Lipton," he says after reading it.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet picks up the label to confirm it for herself and examines it. "Good lord, Steven," she chides him, and tosses the bag into the sink before it can contaminate anything. "Might as well steep some cardboard. Hang on."

She pulls open a drawer under the service and produces a wooden box the size of a textbook. It's opened up and complex aromas wash over the room from the dozens of little piles of tea leaves in the dozens of small compartments inside of it. Chime-sized infusers are provided for the tea and Janet loads up one for Steve, then one for herself, and puts the box away.

"Pepper says it's important to not shock the leaves by making the water too hot," she adds, and turns down the temperature on the kettle a little. "Otherwise it... bleaches them? Blanches? Something like that."

The infusers are left to dangle on the sides of the cups and Janet turns in place, resting her elbows on the counter behind her. "So. How was the show?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve moves over behind Janet, tall enough that he can easily watch over her shoulder to see the contents of the tea case. His head tilts a bit, looking at the sheer variety. Not the first, second, or third time that the sheer range of choices available to people today makes him feel the weight of those missed years.

His eyes go from the tea down to the woman herself while Janet is still making a selection and getting an infuser. The woman's slender build has a grace to it that is only enhanced for Steve by her confident poise. Peggy had a confident poise as well, yet the two women couldn't be more different physically to Steve's eye. Peggy's figure fuller and more robust yet still very feminine. Janet's curves delicate and sleek, and also far from lacking in femininity. How curious they should be so different in that yet Steve-

Steve clears his throat, interrupting his own thoughts. "I'll yield to the experts. I always just learned to get the water boiling before pouring it in," he tells Janet. He moves over to the side of her, leaning against the counter behind him then. "I didn't get a chance to thank you in person for the tickets. The ballet ones. It was a nice performance," he says.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet smiles up at Steve in a way that utterly fails to be coy. "The Met puts on a good show," she agrees. "The whole performing arts center, really. Opera, ballet, musicals from time to time. Though if you know the right people you can see some of the really best shows just off-Broadway. I know some of the bigger names like those smaller venues, they say it's more 'intimate' than taking the stage somewhere bigger."

"Who'd you end up taking as your plus-one?" The question's carefully nonchalant, and there's nothing on Janet's face indicating her inquest has a hope one way or another. "I can't imagine Bucky's big on ballet performances. Doesn't seem like that's his jam."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve crosses his arms as they talk and nods, as much for his absorbing that information about the Met as that he's signaling his lone experience with their performances is in agreement with what Janet said.

"No one, I wasn't sure if you might free up at the last minute," he says. "There was a really nice couple that had the other tickets. Bob and Maggie Oberman. Run a soup kitchen... or I'm not sure if that's what they are called now. They run a kitchen on the south side for people who need some help getting by. They were really grateful. Maggie had been wanting to go to the Met since she moved to New York," Steve says, smiling soft at the memory of the woman's enthusiasm.

"But you're right, not really Bucky's kind of place," Steve says with a soft grin. "I was by Rockefeller Center the other day. Saw they still have a skating rink there. It's been, well. A really long time since I've skated there," he says, looking off across the room as if thinking about that.

Steve's true-blue eyes swing back towards Janet. "I don't suppose you ice skate, do you?" he asks.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's brows lift minutely at the question, and her head tilts coquettishly up at Steve. "I suppose I might," she replies, a little enigmatically. The teakettle whistles readiness and it prompts motion from Janet, who turns to decant it into a little ceramic teapot. She checks the temperature with a little thermometer and sets the teapot on a cooling stone to bring the temperature down a few degrees.

"Of course that depends on why you're asking, I suppose," she adds. The tea is added to the kettle and she starts a little eggtimer going to let it soak. The process for making good tea seems a little more involved than it might have been in Steve's day. "I hope you're not just making elevator small-talk. We could chat about the weather, in that case." She holds the teapot's lid in place and pours a small cup of the elegant, subtly-scented tea for Steve, and offers it to him carefully with both hands.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve takes the offered cup, also with both hands. "Thank you," he tells her. He brings the cup nearer and leans over it slightly to inhale the aroma wafting off it. "That possibly smells nicer than the Lipton," he tells her, that suggestive smile signaling that he is indeed having a little fun about his earlier tea selection.

He blows gently across the surface of the cup and then takes a small sip. "I am glad that you were up as well. Or, well, not that I want you to have issues sleeping. What I mean is, this is delicious, thank you." Steve tells her.

He softly clears his throat again. "Well, I was thinking of finding some skates and going skating. And if it sounds like something you'd enjoy, I was hoping you might go with me," Steve tells her. "JARVIS mentioned there are some nice places around that area as well for dinner or a few drinks after," he adds to Janet.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet beams approvingly when Steve manages to get to hs point more or less directly. "Skating? Dinner and drinks after? That does sound like a lovely evening," she says, agreeably. "It's been a while but I think I remember how it's done. I might even have some skates somewhere in the back of my closet."

A fingertip rests against her teacup and she scrapes her nail around the circumference of the lip with a steady sussurance. "So... just the two of us, then? You don't want to bring anyone else along too?" She looks up at Steve through her lashes, staring rather pointedly at his fine-hewn features.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve takes another slow sip of his tea, clearly seeming to enjoy it. He answers Janet in an off-handed tone, his focus seemingly on the tea more than what he's saying. "Well of course if you'd like to arrange a chaperone to accompany you that would only be the appropriate thing, but the choice of person should be yours and not mine," he tells her and then takes another sip of his tea.

The cup is lowered and Steve's blue eyes move back to Janet's. "That was a joke. We didn't use chaperones in my day either," he says, his lips just turning up slightly at the corners at his jest.

He looks down at his cup then, rather than at her. "I thought just the two of us, if that would be ok with you," he says more seriously.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm. You and me, out skating, and somewhere nice after for dinner and drinks?" Janet mulls it over. "It's a date. And I think we'll leave the chaperone behind. This time, anyway," she says, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Let's say... Wednesday night? Five PM?" she suggests. Her fingers wrap around her teacup. "Let me know if there's anything specific I should wear. You know. For the dress code." She waits until Steve's mid-sip. "Or, y'know. Whatever."

Before Steve can respond she's drifting away again towards the mansion's living quarters. "See you Wednseday night then, soldier-boy," she murmurs over her shoulder, and with another enigmatic smile disappears into the Mansion's dim-lit hallways.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve gives a soft throat-clearing after her comment while he was mid-sip But his smile reaches his eyes. "Wednesday is perfect. Just something warm I'd think, it's supposed to be cold," he says. The accuracy of modern weather forecasts is something Steve will probably never get used to marveling over.

His next sip is taken as Janet turns to go then, raising a hand in a motionless wave goodbye to her. As she turns and departs in the kimono, Steve finds the focal point of his gaze descending.

The dream version really hadn't done her enough credit.