53/Respite in the Workplace

Respite in the Workplace
Date of Scene:	21 February 2020
Location:	JVD Fashion
Synopsis:	No description
Cast of Characters:	Janet van Dyne, Steve Rogers

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Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Arthur!" Janet yells from her office desk. She has a perfectly good intercom. It doesn't stop her from yelling around the corner at her asstant in the front office, mostly because she forgets she has it. "Where is that file from Paris?"

"It's on your desk, ma'am!"

"No it's not!"

"Under the puce folder!"

"I looked there al-- oh, there it is," she says, lowering her voice. "Thank you dear, sorry for yelling," Janet trails off, and starts thumbing through the document. Two weeks off from work to care for an injured Steve equates to a lot of paperwork for her to get caught up on, and the petite billionaire lifts a hip to sit on the edge of her desk and thumb through the folder distractedly.

Steve Rogers has posed:
In direct counter to any form of fashion sense (and probably a little deliberately on his part), Steve arrives at JVD fashion proudly wearing his combat boots with his jeans. At least it's not a suit? He's got a cream-colored beanie jammed down over his ears and his shearling-lined jacket zipped up against the winter wind. Riding a motorcycle in February isn't the warm thing now and then.

On his arm is a beige and opaque bag redolent with the scent of Thai food. He'd had a hankering for red curry chicken, but had ordered other options as well in case Janet wasn't interested; the offering includes spring rolls, pad Thai, and talay pow amongst other things.

A knock-knock at the fashionista's door is then followed by it opening and then Steve admitting himself as if he belonged here, all quiet confidence -- granted, Janet's staff recognized the man at the second he entered, so it's possible someone 'radioed' to the Wasp that her beau was in the building.

"Hey Shortcakes. Can't work on an empty stomach," he chides with a grin as he wanders over to one of the few clear sections of work table. "Come get something to eat."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet looks up and a surprised, pleased smile crosses her face. The perking alertness translates to her spine, though one would never catch Janet 'slouching'. "Steve!" she says, redundantly, and slides off the desk. It's office wear for Janet, and she's in a white one-piece cotton dress. It's stiff enough material to be used in a suit and tailored so closely it's a wonder if she wasn't sewn right into it. The hem comes to her knees and the neckline is a modest one, resembling an asymmetrical set of lapels. Subtle gold accents on the dress match rubies set in gold accoutrements, dangling from ears and wrists; a bold leather belt of vermillion pairs with four-inch heels, stiletto pumps with a strap around her ankle.

The fashionista steps across the room and rests a hand on Steve's forearm for balance, and strains for an extra half-inch of tiptoe to kiss him in greeting.

"Mmm, this is a nice surprise. I thought you'd be tired of seeing me every day for two weeks," Janet teases him. The petite brunette's already nosing around at the bags in Steve's arm, eyes dancing with hungry interest. "Oooh, do I smell Mai Thai? You brought me *lunch*?" she guesses, and beams sunnily up at him.,

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve leans down to meet the Wasp in her lifted stretch for a kiss and keeps it polite if fond. "Not tired of you yet. I was in the area 'nd I know your habits. You get a design in your head 'nd pencils in your hands 'nd suddenly, it's 10pm 'nd you're wondering why you've got a headache. 'm here to stop that before it starts." Using his strength more delicately, he opens the second bag while the first is already available for immediate perusal.

"It's Thai, you got it," the Captain confirms with a grin over at the fashionista. "Had a hankering for red curry chicken, so this's mine here. Rest of it's fair game. Grab a few boxes or bags 'nd some silverware 'nd dig in." Steve pulls out a standard-sized white styrofoam container proving to be filled to the brim with the curry chicken dish. He plucks a white fork out of the second bag and then pulls over one of the plush wheeled office chairs kept off to one side. With a content sigh after he sits, he tucks in.

"Not working too hard, are you?" Such a thing to ask from the man who forgets to eat as well sometimes.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet checks Steve's motion by pushing upwards on his elbow, and jostles him (pointedly) away from her pristine white office desk, and towards the sitting area in the corner. "Honey, I love you forever, but if you stain my desk with red sauce, I *will* murder you," Janet promises Steve. Janet's work area is tidily compartmentalized-- a sitting and recieving area nearby is for guests, with chic black leather chairs and a minibar. The sharp divide between her work desk and her creative station is illustrated by the sharp contrast of snow white accoutrements in the former, and a calamity of color around her artist's easel on the far wall.

"Can I fix you a drink?" she offers, while digging in the serviette for proper forks and real cloth napkins. "I don't think I've got any wines that blend well with chick marsala, but I can whip you up a cocktail. I've been practicing," she says, proudly.

Steve Rogers has posed:
"Have you? Good idea with the guests you have." He bets that the majority of them want Cosmos. This doesn't mean that Steve wants a Cosmopolitan by any means. Comfortable in his chair, the man watches the Wasp rifle around in her minibar as he finishes chewing his bite of curry chicken.

"Water'll do fine for now, thank you, unless...unless you have any ideas about what would go best with this type of food? I'll be your guinea pig. Wouldn't be the first time 've been a testing ground for radical science." The Captain accompanies this wry observation with a theatrical waggling of his eyebrows. Indeed, test-tube soldier, seated right there.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm! You know, I actually do have a suggestion there," Janet tells Steve with a sudden enthusiasm. "And I'm literally the only person you know who knows how to make it."

She roots around in the serviette and starts pouring ice and muddled mint over sugar, juice, rum, and sparkling water.

"Abuela used to make it for me when I was hanging out in the Bronx and someone slipped me too many chili peppers in my tamales. A milkshake is best, but once you get some experience with spicy foods, a little liquor's just right. Proper mojito cubano," Janet informs Steve, and brings the tall drink over to him cradled in both hands. She bends at the knee with a classy grace to set it on the table next to his knee, then moves back to the stand to fix one for herself.

"The sugarcane's the trick. You can't do it with the bleached sugar from the store. Has to be authentic sugarcane exctract," she explains. Once Janet's is ready and muddled, she moves to sit next to Steve. Legs cross neatly at the knee and she sets a large napkin over her skirt to guard it from stains, then starts dishing herself a good cross-selection of food.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Those dancing eyebrows pause and lift -- oh-ho, a suggestion, and an uncommon one to boot. By how Steve pauses in eating his food, he's sincerely intrigued. He watches the drink come into being with its practiced blending of ingredients and layerings of liquid as well as its arrival; he's absolutely certain to note Janet in the process and give her an appreciative little grin.

"I'll remember the authentic sugarcane extract," he echoes with a nod as he reaches to pick up the glass. A sip at it and he licks his upper lip musingly as he looks down at the drink. Another obvious flick of brows is thoughtful endorsement to Janet's claim: it does go rather well with the Thai food.

"If you were going to pull a milkshake out of that minibar, I was going to be very impressed. This's good though," the man informs his gal after taking another sip and setting the drink aside. "What's on your desk then?"

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"You have *no* idea how much work it is to keep a milkshake machine clean," Janet says, wryly. "But I've got a blender in here, and ice, and heavy cream... what else goes into a milkshake?" she asks with a blank uncertainty. "Sugar, right? Maybe I *could* make one." She gives the minibar a speculative look.

"Whatever. I'll ask Arthur to look into it. I'm not making a milkshake now though, I want to eat," she informs Steve, primly.

"Anyway-- I've been playing hooky for two weeks, so I'm getting caught up on ... everything," Janet says. "I mean, the stuff that I actually have to research. I can do a lot from my phone, but I need to read numbers, negotiate deals, there's a salary dispute from the producers in New Delhi... I can stall a lot, but if I just walk off for a month, then Kenneth and Melissa have to run the show, and they're darlings but they're just not quite cut out to run a major textile corporation at that level. Negotiations aren't something you leave to a couple of artists," Janet confides.