711/Gossip's Risky Business

Gossip's Risky Business
Date of Scene:	23 March 2020
Location:	van Dyne Penthouse, NYC
Synopsis:	Janet presses Natasha for details about Tony; it turns into some heartfelt soul-sharing for the two Avengers.
Cast of Characters:	Janet van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff

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Janet van Dyne has posed:
"See, I was thinking the /same thing/," Janet agrees with Natasha. "God knows I can't bring it up with Steve, he'd probably quit the job on sheer reflex. But if Odin steps down, and Thor and Loki--" The words are cut off by the blender as it surges and runs on Janet's countertop. Clear liquor and fruit pulp mix and mingle into a watery commingling, and Janet decants them into a Tiffany crystal pitcher before bringing it back over to the sitting area where Natasha's at. "--I'm just saying Queen of Nine Realms, it's got a nice ring to it, y'know?"

Drinks are topped off and Janet flops back into her seat on the other end of the sofa. New York's nighttime lights twinkle through her penthouse windows below, the city that never sleeps still thriving and humming. Janet's in calf-length jammie pants and a nvy blue babydoll Avenger's tee, the one with the Captain America icon on it. The fashionista reaches for her pizza and rests the plate on her thighs so she's not spilling onto the floor or sofa. " Ooh, you could be my chief assassin," Janet says with wide-eyed inspiration. "That'd be kind of awesome. Every great queen needs one, y'know. For dealing with like, political enemies. Or people who cut in line, and stuff."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha has fallen into a bit of a trap.
    For years, Natasha kept her distance whenever she could. She was supposed to be overseeing the Avengers, not necessarily one of them. Keeping track of them, and making sure the gaggle of lunatics don't all kill each other.
    But somewhere along the line the eccentric lot of them grew on her a bit, and now it seems she's made a *habit* of visiting their homes! Their *homes!* With pizza! And booze!
    Where did it all go so wrong.
    A bemused expression only breaks briefly with the innocent flippancy which with Janet proclaims her chief assassin - a moment disquised by biting into pizza before she simply seems to be enjoying herself again.
    "I don't know." She says with wry amusement. "I'm still somewhere in line for complete rulership of Earth. Not sure you want to give me knives and keep me by the throne." She says with a bit of a gleam in her eyes.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Mmm," Janet emotes, knowingly. Natasha's wry gleam is met with an expression of impudent knowingness. Janet wipes her fingertips on a napkin tidily and reaches for her cocktail. A sip's taken and she curls her wrist to rest the base of the highball glass against her sternum.

"I mean, way down the line, but yeah, I guess I'd feel better knowing that you weren't gunning for my sweet gig as absolute ruler of the Realms."

Her eyes dance merrily at Natasha. "Then again, First Lady has a nice ring to it," she says with a diffident sort of tone. But she watches Natasha closely for a reaction. "Because lately, I'm picking up a certain vibe between you and a certain billionaire. And if I know two things, it's fashion trends and weird vibes," she taunts Natasha.

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha is in the middle of sipping her drink when Janet's comment makes her choke, the Russian spy making a bit of a harrowed expression as she forces herself to swallow properly, and half-croaks "What?" she swallows again, "What do you- Tony?"
    Damnit Natasha, you're a spy, you're supposed to be immune to people getting you drunk and surprising information out of you! In that spirit, she wrangles her face back into believable passivity and says, "I don't know what you mean." with a little shake of her head.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet's jaw drops into a wide grin; she probes the inside of her cheek and moves her tongue laterally behind her lip. "Unnnn-huh," Janet says a total lack of sincerity. "So I'm just, like, crazy then," she confirms, in a neutral tone that suggests she doesnt' remotely believe her own supposition.

"Because you usually start getting your back up any time Tony walks into a room. I see you glaring at him, and I know what that looks like, 'cause -I'm- always glaring at him."

She tucks her feet up under her thighs, knees hanging off to the side of the sofa. "But the other day you two were passing in the hall, and-- like I said, call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure I saw you smiling at him. /After/ he was walking away," she says. "And Tony's butt is definitely not his best feature. So what's up? You two decide to bury the hatchet or something, finally?"?

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
     "Mmn." Natasha confirms with a little double nod, bringing the glass to her lips. "Mad as a bag of spiders." she says, and takes a sip.
    She holds Janet's gaze evenly as she speaks... untiiil she mentions their relative friendliness to each other, which makes her close her eyes.
    Well, damn it. Of course she lets her guard down in that house now. Two years has made her comfortable and soft.
    She's... pretty sure she can play this off as not romantic though! Because it isn't! Not *really*, right?
    I mean...
    "Tony..." Natasha trails off and sighs, looking downward and tilting her head slightly; keeping it tilted as she raises back up a little and turns her eyes upward to look at Janet. "... He's... sweeter than he seems. I mean, he *can* be. Once you get past all the..." Natasha gestures vaguely and settles on, "... Tony."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet winces and her lips form an 'o'; through it she inhales like a teakettle and the exhale whistles through her teeth. "Wow, and I was like... twenty-five percent sure I had a bad read on that," Janet informs Natasha. "Or you guys were just in cahoots over the Washington thing. I'm still not sure this isn't gonna turn out to be some big episode of Punk'd, with Tony jumping out at the end yelling 'surprise!' at all of us."

She sits forward and rests her elbows on her thigh, shoulders rolling and looking up at Natasha with an entreatying look. A few seconds later her nose wrinkles as if she's smelled something unpleasant. "I mean Tony's not without his faults, but he's still -Tony-," she reminds Natasha. "He's such a dick sometimes. Almost all the time. Walking around with that 'I know best' attitude, telling everyone how things are gonna be... I can deal with him professionally but I can't imagine getting into a -personal- relationship with him. He's just such a bastard to be around."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "Yeah... I can see that, actually." Natasha agrees with a tilted nod of her head. It all being a giant joke, she means. In a weird way it makes more sense than Iron Man not being on the roster anymore. Things were always bound to change but... *that* seemed too big to swallow.
    As Janet dresses Tony down, her eyebrows raise slightly. "Yeah." A little more, "... Yeah." her forehead wrinkles a bit and her eyes squint a little "Yyyyy-" Natasha sighs softly, "-yyy- no, not- not *always.* He's... a *lot*... in a crowd... but he can actually be kind of, you know... thoughtful, and fun when..."
    Natasha makes a subtly sour face as she realizes what card she just hinted at.
    That being: when they're alone.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Oh shiiiit," Janet gasps, and giggles excitedly. "I knew it, I /knew/ there was something," she informs Natasha, and wriggles back up to a sitting position. "I thought you two were like, fooling around on the side a bit or something, but this--" her forefinger wigggles an S-shape at Natasha's direction while her head snakes in an mirrored negative path. "Wow, you've actually got some -feels- going for him, don't know?" Adolescent glee turns to something more ruefully sympathetic and she reaches over to lay her hand on the sofa near Natasha's, ofering open fingers for a reassuring squeeze. "I just knew my drama radar was going off and figured, y'know, you'd have something juicy to tell me."

"C'mon, dish. What's the deal? You two just hooking up and not worrying about it, or are you like, for real seeing where things go with him?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "No." Natasha practically croaks as Janet starts squeeing. As she talks, Natasha impotently tries: "No, no! Nonono! Come- no!" before heaving a sigh and hanging her head forward with her free hand over her eye.
    "You should be an interrogater." she says very flatly, and then brings the glass to her lips, tilting her head back, finally to drink it, before setting the glass down and squinting at Janet.
    "There's... *nothing* like that going on. Tony..." she presses her lips together very tightly for a moment, trying to think of how to phrase this, and vaguely frazzled to be in a situation where she has to clarify. "I went to deliver some news to Tony, and he was..." she really doesn't want to give away Tony's personal feelings, especially not about Steve, "... a little down. We got to talking, we... had a good time. We got... *really* drunk and watched goofy spy movies until we passed out."
    That is surely not everything.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet picks up a vape pen from the coffeetable and takes a few long inhales; the scent of something unspecific and tropically floral fills the air when she exhales the dense fog. A couple of the disposable pens are set out next to the drinks and some canapes no doubt prepared by Janet's personal staff before they'd retired for the evening.

"Nats, honey, you and Steve are cut from the same cloth," Janet tells the other woman. "I know how to push his buttons and yours are almost identical. Just because I don't use my superpowers to steal state secrets doesn't mean I don't have 'em."

With a wriggle of her shoulders Janet settles back into the pillows behind her and watches Natasha's haltering explanation of things. "I mean, so you two got drunk and hooked up, that's no big deal," Janet says reassuringly. Fingers flex. "A casual fling won't hurt nothin. But the way you're looking at him, and talking about him, that's got me a little worried. For you. You're making eyes like a lovesick teenager when I shit-talk Tony. That's new."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "Not *that* kind of good tiiiime...!" Natasha practically whines defeatedly, falling back into her chair and crossine one leg across the seat and hooking the other leg over it. "We didn't... 'fool around', and I am *not* love sick. If I seem... fonder of him, it's just that I've... seen a different side of him, that's all. He can be sweet. Like... when he made me this really great pair of tech goggles that turn into a mask because he knows I don't like having my face out there." She squints a little bit. "... And when he stocked up a ton of different new drinks when I told him I didn't really know what my favorite is." She hangs her head slightly. "... And... when he tried to learn how to make Russian pancakes while I was in Asgard."
    Natasha hangs her head low and covers her face, "... and he *keeps* wearing the Black Widow shirt, and it's really sweeeeeeeeeet...!" she groans in pure lamentation.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Ooh, Nats, it's okay," Janet clucks her tongue and makes a calming noise at the back of her throat. The pen's set aside and she rocks upwards, then knee-walks towards Natasha and slips slender arms around Natasha's shoulders to give her a reassuring hug. She pats Natasha's back fitfully and passes her a smaller throw pillow just so the Widow has something plushy to hug.

"Honey, I hate to break it to you," Janet says, finally. "But you've got it bad." Janet sits back on her heels, palms braced against her thighs and shoulders rolling so she can lock her elbows out. Her eyes narrow thoughtfully at Natasha and she wriggles her weight so she's sitting lower, and moves her palms to the sofa to keep her head more level with Natasha's as the redhead slumps over. "Listen, I know you've got a some more experience with these sorts of things than Steve does, but... when was the last time you had a crush? I mean, like, a for-real crush, not someone who were screwing for fun or for work or whatever it is spies do."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha makes a low "mmmuuuuhhhh..." sound as Janet's hug rocks her back and forth slightly, making her hair dangle and swing a bit before she drag her hands down the length of her face until her eyes and nose peek out.
    She remembers a very large, gregarious Russian man who treated her like a princess, longer ago than she'd care to admit to being alive.
    "... Never." she admits, and with one exception it's not even a lie. "... Literally never. Not a lot of... uhm." she shakes her head a little, seemingly almost embarrassed, if a little distracted, "... opportunity, in my line of work. Never stuck in one place long enough, maybe."
    There's... a lot of other reasons - terrifying-alien-world-of-spycraft reasons - that she'd rather not ruin Janet's day with if she doesn't have to.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet settles back down into a kneeling position on the sofa. For a moment she looks a bit unsure of what to do; Natasha's not the sort of person who's big on casual contact. She fidgets, awkwardly, and settles for resting a palm between Natasha's shoulderblades and rubbing a reassuring circle with her palm and making a few soothing sounds.

"Christ," Janet concludes with a weary exhale, and reaches for her vape pen again to take a few, long, mellowing tokes off of it. She lowers it, then wiggles it in Natasha's vague peripheral vision while staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding the warm and dimly lit penthouse.

"You're definitely crushing hard on him, though. Like, it's one thing if you were hooking up," she clarifies. Then she shudders once at that thought. "I mean, to each their own, I guess. I've got some raw feelings about dating engineers," she admits.

There's a few moments of introspective silence. "What do you think, then? About Tony," she clarifies. "Do you like him? I mean, really like him? Does he like you back?"

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha tenses noticibly at first when Janet touches her, squeezing the pillow a bit tighter to her chest, but decides not to bite Janet's head off or anything. Again, going soft. She needs to not make a habit of this.
    ... It's really nice that so many of them care, though.
    She looks at the offered pen and says "Oh... no, thank you, I..." she grins ruefully and half laughs, "I'm already working on getting a drinking problem... haaa." Just a joke, she's been sampling a lot lately.
    "He's not..." Natasha shakes her head. "He's not like him." She says, referring to Hank, and tilts her head, eyes closed thoughtfully. "... I don't know. Two minutes ago I was pretty sure we were just having movie nights." Nights, plural, it's happened again. "... We probably are. Right? I mean..." Oh sweet denial. Even she kinda sees it. She sighs. "... I think he's a passionate person. I think he's enough ego to eclipse the sun. I think... he's a lot more considerate and thoughtful than I ever thought. I'm starting to think he's just... putting on a show sometimes, with the way he acts." She shakes her head. "I don't know. ... I really like being around him." But in regards to what Tony thinks of her... Natasha winces a little.
    "... If I'm lucky he thinks of me as a fling, and I can just put him through a glass window, soon. I really can't be dating co-workers." A slight slump of her shoulders. "... He told me... He told me I was important. An important part of the team. Part of the good you all do. ... A hero." Natasha says, and can't keep a wistful smile off of her face. There's... a lot he doesn't know, and that worries her, but for the first time in awhile, there's a strong part of her working to ignore that hiccup. "... I never really thought of myself that way. Agent of SHIELD and all that. It's always been sort of... blurry. But he..."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet reaches over and flicks Natasha's temple in reproach at the 'you all' comment. A defiant goes along with it-- apparently knowingly risking a broken arm and doing it anyway. "We," she says, firmly. "We do, 'we all', because 'we're' a team," she reminds Natasha. "*You* are important, and if I find out you're only into Tony because he's the first guy who's ever told you 'you're important', I'm gonna be pissed," she tells Natasha. Her tone is firm, but far from unkind, either.

With a frustrated sigh Janet flumps back against the cushions behind her. "You've got a pretty hard crush on him. 7/10, at least," Janet diagnoses. "I'm pretty sure if anything bigger than Tony's ego was in a room, he'd want it shot and hung up on the wall as a trophy."

She turns a sidelong grimace towards Natasha. "Look, Tony's... Tony. He's an irritating asshole with a god complex and an ego the size of that gaudy tower," she reminds Natasha. "You wanna get involved with him, well-- I mean, okay, he can be charming," she admits. "And intensity is attractive. It's addictive knowing you can make someone like that forget about everything else. Just... be careful," she says, struggling to keep a neutral voice. "Because when it's early like this you'll forgive them anything and everything they do, no matter how shitty they are. The problem is after it gets stale, all you'll ever see in them is the stuff between their teeth and how annoying the sound of their voice is. I'm worried about you falling hard for him and getting burned when the next shiny thing comes along."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    "Gmn" Natasha gives a closed mouth noise of pain and annoyance, squinting one eye at Janet before she heaves a sigh and sits back. "... He's not the first person to tell me that." She says, truthfully. "He's not even the first person to tell me that while knowing who I really am." Clint's a sweetheart when he wants to be, and if anything his word means more than Tony's right now. But you don't just talk someone out of Nat's psyche. It's a work in progress.
    With a sharp exhale through her nose, Natasha pours herself another drink and brings it to her lips. "I'm not-" Natasha stops and adjusts her voice to sound less harsh, because she doesn't mean it that way, "-... I'm not a little girl Janet. Don't worry. I'm very... very occustomed to men who'll say anything to make you like them. If anything I'm *looking* for a good excuse to stop acting stupid, I just..."
    Natasha shakes her head slowly as Janet speaks from experience. Complicated men who get bored of you. Get all wrapped up in you and then forget when the novelty wears off. Men who have nothing for you once the glow of emotion they made you feel runs dry.
    That sounds way more like people.
    Nat's cynical little world, reinforced.
    "... You're probably right." She says very softly, and downs her glass very quickly before sighing and pouring *another* glass. "... I think I'd want something... quiet, anyway." She says, now that she's finally thinking about the subject of men properly after all these years. "... Just. Cozy. And nice." She says, and shakes her head. "Ehhnn. Love is for children anyway." She squints and looks at Janet, suddenly sheepish, "No- no offense, I'm..." she struggles to find the right word to describe her current state, and settles on, "... *hammered* right now."

Janet van Dyne has posed:
"Okay, Natasha is a mean drunk," Janet says, as if making a mental note, and stops rubbing her back. The fahionista huffs and resettles her weight but doesn't really end up moving any furthur away from her friend. "Also a lightweight," she remarks. Her own words are a little slurred, but the Professional Party Girl can maintain like a troooper. "I won't make the next batch of Orange Creamsicles quite as strong," she promises, and picks up the pitcher to slosh the contents around. In truth it's mostly Pinnacle Whipped vodka and at this point a few splashes of orange juice and fruit chunks.

"An' you're full of shit," she declares. "You don't know what you want. Two weeks ago, you woulda said you didn't want anything at all. Now you've got Tony, and you're trying to say this bullshit story about... picket fences, because Tony's exciting, and it's easier to say 'Tony's not the right guy for me because now I want to be... June Cleaver," Janet gets out.

She fidgets with her vape pen, then oozes down the sofa and rests her bare feet against the edge of the coffee table so her head is propped up against the sofa cushion. "Listen, when I first started dating Steve, I said all the same BS. I didn't wanna date on the team, it was just about getting up on that hot bod, I'm just looking for a fling, I'm /never/ gonna settle down again." Fingers rise and fall as she counts her excuses. "Now it's been like, two years? And we're going to Asgard an' he's gonna introduce me to everyone as his Lady, and I'm looking in the mirror, like..."

She extends hands entreatingly to her reflection. "Like what the fuck, girl? But then I'm like, 'I'm happy', so." She shrugs awkwardly and looks up at Natasha with her lips pursed around the vape pen. "Point is, you /think/ you don't deserve to be happy, but deep down, I think you know you deserve it, and it scares you that Tony might make you happy."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Picket fences weren't exactly what Natasha had in mind. Trust and understanding, more like. But that doesn't stop her from an amused and slightly incredulous smile spreading slowly accross her face before she shakes her head and says. "... I am *no* longer sure what your position on this is." She says almost merrily, and takes another drink.

Janet van Dyne has posed:
Janet blinks owlishly, trying to think. She grimaces, squirms, drums a heel on the counter, and then goes limp again while staring up at the ceiling.

"I dunno either," she says, finally. "I was just after the gossip, I didn't like... think we were gonna have some big heart to heart about relationships an' stuff."

She fidgets and looks over at Natasha. "If it makes you feel better, it doesn't matter what I think," she says with a slurred pragmatism. "You like Tony. So, if I said it's a bad idea, which I think it is, you'll decide to keep seeing him anyway so you can decide for yourself. If I say, 'try and find some happy with him', which I think is a good idea, and you didn't want to, you'd be all 'I'm ditching his ass, let's go clubbin right now'."

Another plume of smoke rises skywards, and Janet watches it unroll against the overhead ceiling and vanish.

"Guess I'm saying is, I don't know what *your* possition is, which is the only thing that really matters."

Natasha Romanoff has posed:
    Natasha's shoulders shake with an unvoiced, closed-mouthed laugh, despite herself, and she closes her eyes for a moment, raising her eyebrows in bemusement. "Sorry. Fun is still a new use my time." She says, partly jokingly, but partly... yeah. "Still getting the hang of it."
    Listening to Janet, quietly, she eventually says, "... Yeah. I know what you mean." Maybe she'll follow it, maybe she won't. Maybe she just stumbled on the fact that she really likes Tony and it's not a romantic thing at all! Wouldn't that be nice. Regardless, "... I'll think about it once I get the room spinning a little faster."