5355/Another Place To Hang Ones Shield

Another Place To Hang Ones Shield
Date of Scene:	26 February 2021
Location:	Steve Rogers' Apartment
Synopsis:	After the pair have finished dealing with some high tech hijackers, Steve takes Janet by his old apartment in Brooklyn.
Cast of Characters:	Steve Rogers, Janet van Dyne

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Steve Rogers has posed:
The mission that Wasp and Captain American had gone on started with being dropped off by quinjet along the waterfront. A gang of men armed with high tech weaponry who were attempting to steal more advanced equipment from a freighter that had just docked.

The fight that ensued overflowed from the docks. The heroes had pursued a semi-truck that had been partially loaded with crates from the freighter by the time the two Avengers arrived.

The weaponry made for a frustrating fight, as even a near miss from their electo-rifles left the heroes bodies feeling like they were short circuiting, limbs not wanting to respond normally. But eventually they stopped the truck and took down the bad guys after the truck had been forced onto an exit that took it deep into Brooklyn.

The lights of police cars throw red and blue strobe lights on the surrounding buildings as the boys in blue take custody of the villains and the crime scene. There isn't any snow falling tonight, but it's cold enough for it if there were clouds in the sky.

Steve finishes giving the police a report. "You're welcome officer. We're glad we were able to help," he says to the man before they shake hands and he turns to walk over towards where Janet waits. Steve glances about the area and says, "I've got somewhere else to stop off rather than going back to the Mansion. If you don't mind it, Janet."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's handling the other side of it: the press. The petite Avenger knows how to gladhandle the fourth estate, offering up the sort of details that make for easy-writing headlines without handing over details that might be important for prosecutors to retain. And she mugs for the camera a bit, managing to look charming and fresh-faced despite the exertion of the fight. One would be hard-pressed to get a bad angle on her.

When Steve steps up she smiles automatically at the Captain, turning away from the press. A few paparazzi snap some pictures but she's ignoring them at this point, attention focused on Steve. "You offering me a ride home?" she inquires with a mischevious smile. "I hope it's not on your bike. I can get a towncar sent over," she says, and rubs her slender arms a few times in response to the chill. Maybe her suit's thermo-regulators are on the fritz? "Twenty minutes on a bike on the toll roads, in this weather-- it'll turn me into a popsicle."

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve's smile comes easily as Janet turns away from the press and towards him. "I don't have my bike either, but it's just, oh, two and a half blocks I think. Just a short walk. Unless you want to fly it. Honestly I think after those guns they were using, my legs wouldn't mind the extra stretching."

A few flashes go off from the press and paparazzi, Steve looking over and nodding to them and lifting a hand towards them. It's not exactly the kind of pose they'd like, but it's genuine at least.

If Janet is amenable to the walk, or at least flying along with him, Steve motions down the sidewalk in the direction they need to go before starting. He affixes his shield to his back, and pulls off his helmet-mask combo. A ruffle of his fingers through his hair help get rid of the helmet-head though it was probably done more for comfort than fashion.

The area of Brooklyn is fairly domestic, with apartments and brownstones rising up from the street on both sides, while the actual street level has an assortment of the normal types of businesses you'd expect. Restaurants, laundromats, thrift stores, a Stark cellular store, and the like. "I don't think I've brought you out here before, have I?" he says, not even having told her exactly where it is they are going.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet flickers into something about the size of a Barbie doll and lands on Steve's shoulder, seating herself comfortably and crossing her legs. Her hands lean back to support her weight and a periodic flicker of her dragonfly wings keep her balance stable.

"What, Brooklyn?" Janet inquires. She looks around, then shrugs. It takes her a beat to realize Steve probably can't see the gesture. "I mean, I've been in Brooklyn before, but not in the residential areas. I like living in Manhattan. Everything I need is on the island," she points out. "Why, is this like, some historical part of town?" Her head swivels around, trying to look for something notable among the local sights.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The streets are pretty quiet, and it only takes a turn of a corner and a block to leave the majority of those flashing police lights behind. There are occasional sounds from apartments where someone has a window cracked here, the sounds of opera coming from the room, or over there where a man and woman can be heard arguing in a boisterous, very New York sort of tone.

"Oh, somewhere more specific. I don't know if there's anything particularly historic about the area," Steve says. He casts a blue-eyed gaze about him. At night like this is when the place feels the most like he remembers it. The cars are newer and the advertisements are different, especially the video screens. But the buildings themselves don't really change.

"Just a couple of years of history maybe," Steve says as he walks past an old boxing gym. Carnegie's by name, the windows papered over and only a faint light inside. Just past that is an apartment building that Steve walks over to the door of, pulling it open and stepping inside.

He takes the stairs up as he starts explaining to Janet. "Back after I came out of the ice, well, SHIELD had to run a bunch of tests and get comfortable with who I was. And then there was the question of what to do with me. So they got me an apartment in a familiar spot. A space to work out too. Carnegie's, that place we passed, they got just for my use those first few months," Steve tells Janet.

They reach the fourth floor and he walks down the hallway, unlocking a door and opening it up. "So, until Avenger's Mansion... this was home," he says, stepping in and turning on a light as he closes the door behind him.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's brows are lifting a little when they enter the apartment complex, but she's content to not rob the lede from Steve. He's working himself up to something, and she's not in a rush. Besides, she's warming up thanks to her smaller surface area and listening to Steve talk is always a pleasant experience.

When the door is unlocked Janet dismounts and returns to all five-foot-something she is, wings folding and retracting into invisible folds of her suit. "Oh, so-- this is /your/ place," she remarks. The fashionista takes a few steps in and looks around, rubbing her hands together to restore circulation. "It's nice!" she comments, and flashes a Perfectly Polite smile at Steve. "Very cozy. I didn't even know you had a place in Brooklyn. I'm over near SoHo, so, y'know. Never very far from the fun," she says, trailing off. She starts meandering through Steve's apartment, poking at things and lifting them up to examine them.

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve Rogers moves over to adjust the thermostat, turning up the heat a bit since he had it set low while he wasn't here frequently. "As much of one as I have. The spot I grew up got redone into condos," he says with a soft sigh. "Only the fire escape outside looks the same to me now."

Steve pulls off his shield and sets it down, no special place for it. Just leaning it against the wall. He watches as Janet goes about the place, taking a look at it. "Found one of my motorcycle. Same original model anyway," he says, pausing by one of the motorcycle prints of an old World War II bike.

He turns and looks at the kitchen. "Want something to drink? Pretty sure I have some beer which... ah, well it was a gift from T'Challa the last time I was here. He chose by color. Red, white and blue. So, I'm not sure that Pabst is your favorite drink. A bottle of wine, or some coffee," he offers. Of course there's coffee.

"If you want we can clean up here before we head back," he says. "Those electro guns leave me feeling like my hair is standing on end still."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"A, uh... Pabst? What are we, at some high-school kegger?" Janet chuckles with amusement and shakes her head. "Pass, thanks. Some wine would be nice, though. Chardonnay if it's white, or a decent malbec if it's red," she suggests.

Janet examines a framed picture propped up on a nightstand; it's of Steve and a few soldiers, in black-and-white and a little faded with age. "I didn't exactly pack a change of clothes with me, though," she reminds him. "No point in getting dressed in something all sweaty. I'll be all right." She turns the picture to face him, points at it. "Some of your buddies from the War?" she inquires. "Any of them still around?"

Steve Rogers has posed:
Steve goes over to check the few bottles of wine he has. Though he's more of a beer drinker, he did acquire some taste for it during his time in Europe. He pulls out a bottle of white, the best he has, which would probably not quite make it into the worst spot in Janet's wine cellar. It'll have to do.

As he gets a pair of glasses and the bottle opener, he looks over to see which picture she's looking at. "Yes, my old unit. The Howling Commandos," he tells her. "That one was taken in Norway, after we took down a Hydra munitions plant. You can't see it but I had hole burned in the seat of my uniform. Flashing a bit of a moon at everyone until I could get a change of clothes," he says, grinning soft at the memory. "Most of them are gone by now. Logan, who is up at the school in Westchester. He's still around," Steve says.

He pours the two glasses and brings Janet's over to her.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh yeah, Xavier's people. I read the brief on them," Janet says. "I need to make it up there someday. Sound like some... interesting folks," she quips in an attempt to sound down-home.

The picture's set down when Steve brings the wine over. The glass is accepted and brought to her nose for a sniff. Then, a cautious sip, followed by a hearty gulp. Janet's poker face is at least good enough to refrain from comment, and she puts on a sympathetic expression instead. "I'm sorry to hear that," she tells Steve, and gives his forearm a squeeze. "That must have been really sad, losing touch with those guys. Still, I'm glad at least a few of them around. It's important to have kids your own age to play with." The comment's delivered with an impudent smile and a merry dancing of her eyes.

Steve Rogers has posed:
The glass of wine is held but not sipped from yet, Steve just chuckling about kids his own age. "I'm afraid the old folks home won't let them come out to play when I call and ask though," he tells Janet. Steve pauses. "We used to have to phone our friends, or just go over and see if they could play. No text messages," he explains. Though there's just that little tug at the corner of his lips, and that look his eyes get when he's teasing her.

Steve takes a sip of his wine and says, "I spent a lot of team reading those first few months. Well, reading and working out. The internet. A lot of history. Just books too. Went down to the bookstore, there's a nice one down the street. Really sweet couple who own it. They loaded me up with quite a few they said I'd like," Steve tells her, reaching up and pulling down a copy of All The President's Men. "Glad I missed that," he says with a shake of his head.

Another sip of the wine is taken and Steve says, "I'm going to go shower and change. If you did want to clean up, sweat pants would probably be kind of big on you, but I could promise you a big warm sweatshirt at least," he says, eyes drifting down over Janet's uniform where the yellow and black clings to her. The kind of look he wouldn't give her in public. Or, before they started dating.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mm. You trying to get me out of my clothes, Rogers?" There's a little pointedness to the question, which comes just as he's mid-sip of his wine. Janet makes eye contact with him rather than feigning demure nonchalance, and takes a sip from her own glass.

"Detour to the apartment, a hot shower, glass of wine, and now you're offering me something warm and loose-fitting to change into?" She steps past him, purposely brushing through his space, and curls up a little sinuously on a large leather-bound chair with her legs tucked underneath her. "I'm starting to think you might have ulterior motives in bringing me here." One eyebrow lifts minutely and she swallows another gulp of wine, nearly draining the glass.

Steve Rogers has posed:
At hearing Janet, there's just the faintest bit of throat-clearing before Steve's sip of wine goes down fully. He looks down at his glass rather than at Janet, swirling the liquid about. A wry smile grows and in a light-hearted tone, Steve's deep voice says, "Would you blame a guy for trying if I was?" he asks before finally looking up and over to her.

He watches Janet take the seat, letting his eyes take her in fully. In that way he only lets himself do when they are alone. Steve sets down his glass on the coffee table and then walks over behind Janet's chair, leaning down behind her. Lips moving close to her ear. "Maybe sometimes a guy just wants a few quiet moments away from things with his best girl," Steve says quietly. He brings his lips over to press the lightest of kisses into her hair just behind her ear, and then straightens up.

"I, at least, am going to go clean up," he tells her then, heading for the bedroom, which has its own door for entry into the bathroom. Steve looks over his shoulder at Janet, blue eyes taking in the sight of her before she gets one last small smile from him and he disappears into the bedroom.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet grins to herself at Steve's momentary off-balance. The expression's just a little self-congratulatory; amused, but pleasantly so. Her eyes lid and the grin cools to a warm smile at the murmur against her temple, and she leans obligingly into the gesture of affection that accompanies his quiet sidebar.

"Mmm... Don't hog all the hot water," she suggests in his wake. "I might change my mind, and I don't want to scrub behind my ears with cold water!" she adds, raising her voice to be heard.

Her slender cell phone is extracted from a near-invisible pocket on her bodysuit and she flickers her thumb over the screen to send a text to her assistant/valet. <Head home, I won't need a ride>.

Janet gives it a few minutes-- just long enough for Steve to get the water going and to be distracted-- and then turns off her phone, drains the rest of her wine in a gulp, and rises. The phone's tossed aside and she heads deeper into the apartment towards the sound of running water.