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The walk up the stairs is a nervous one for Steve Rogers. He has seen the pain of war and the misery its aftermath brings. He has lost loved ones; more than he would like to count. He has been in Howard's apartment 'the next morning.' He has witnessed all sorts of things that others might think are terrifying, and never batted a lash.
But there is a slight tremble to his hand.
"Maybe they're not home," he says to Jack as they reach the door. But, then again, maybe they are.
*
"One of them will be home," Jack replies matter of factly as her keys enter the keyhole of the door. Slowly, she turns the doorknob and strolls inside. Haphazardly, she sets her keys on the counter and trails further into the apartment. "Hello? I'm home!" It's been awhile.
"So, Steve, can I get you something to drink — " ever the hostess.
*
Max has arrived.
*
From the kitchen, there comes a blur of motion as a very worried-looking Asgardian comes rushing into view, wearing most of a tailored men's suit, albeit one that is a bit rumpled. "Jack! Where the hell have you — "
Liv stops abruptly when she notices that Jack is not alone, blinking twice at Steve. "…been. Ah." She runs a hand back over her hair, caught up in its usual warrior-style braids, and flashes a rather tired smile at them both. "You must be Captain Rogers. I'm given to understand I owe you some thanks for my new job?"
*
ROLL: Max +rolls 1d100 for a result of: 56
*
The hubub calls the attention of the nigh-mythical third roommate. Max was, for a change, NOT up at the crack of dawn to go to work, as the workload has finally tapered off to soemthing resembling 'normal levels of chaos'. Or, well… it had. Max had had the day off and everything.
Operative word: HAD. The blonde phases through the wall, still pulling a pair of grey coveralls with orange visibility stripes on over her underwear and a flimsy white shirt, hopping on one foot until she can get the other into the worksuit, on a vague trajectory for the kitchen.
This is a surprise— she was slated to be sleeping most of the day and definitely not swearing her way across the living room and phasing through the couch.
*
"I'll have whatever you're having," Steve says with a faint smile as Jack falls into hostess mode. They have had lots of modes over the past couple weeks. Bungalow mode. Rooftop mode. Gym mode.
"Oh, you must be Liv," Steve says with a nod. "Well, I just put in a word. I wouldn't pretend to tell Director Carter what to do. She makes up her own ideas. About pretty much everything."
Steve's eyebrows go up as Max comes in through the wall. He goes quiet, not sure of how to respond, and looks to Jack for assistance.
*
No help is going to come from Liv, that much is clear. She gives Jack a quick look — the We're Going To Have A Conversation look — before she clears the path to the kitchen and comes forward to offer Steve a hand, instead.
"Yeah, she's… something. I won't tell her you put in a word before meeting me if you won't," Liv says wryly, raising an eyebrow at him.
After a pause, she glances off to the side. "Max. Company."
*
"Water it is!" Jack declares as she twists around to retrieve two cups from the cupboard. Liv earns a flicker of a smile and a vague nod, "Yeah, this is Steve," she grins at the notion of the new job, but then offers nothing further down that road, just a vague nod. "Just Steve, not Captain Rogers. Not at home, anyways."
And then Max enters the room. Her head cants tot he side as Liv garners the other woman's attention and she says, "Max, this is Steve. Steve, Max." Her lips twist to the side uncertainly, "Rough day?"
*
Max is startled by Liv's pronouncement and looks up at precisely the wrong time— her foot is still caught in the leg of her work coveralls, her other foot doesn't quite find perchase on the floor correctly, and Max goes down with an awkward squawk when her toes slip, disappearing behind the counter. People dream of pratfalls this good.
It is not, by the way, Steve's presence that does it so much as the interruption into her attempt to get dressed in a hurry. Being seen half-undressed by Captain America is more like… a personal life goal than a mortal embarassment if she's honest.
There's a few seconds of hurried clothes-noises, and then Max re-appears, shrugging the top bit of the coveralls on, and leaning nonchalantly against the counter. NOTHING!
She nods. "Hey Steve." Sniff. "What's up?"
*
"Thanks, hon," Steve says idly as Jack goes to get some water. Immediately he begins to second guess himself, as if the more chivalrous thing would have been to fetch the water himself. Why did every woman have to fetch the water? In Jack and Jill, they both went to fetch the water. But then, that was Jack and Jill.
He snaps out of it rather quick. "I won't tell her a word," Steve says to Liv with a chuckle and a shrug. "My feeling is if she hired you she did it out of her own intentions. I just found out about the UN and realized there was an operative out there that she might be able to use. Glad she was smart enough to come through on the deal.
Steve gives a wave to Max but noticing her demeanor the hand wave sort of falters, fades, and drops. It's his turn to have his eyebrows raise as she falls. They stay there as he shakes his head slowly.
"Uhm. Nothing much."
"
*
Jack manages a nod following the assertion about Liv's job. "Well, I'm glad that Peggy managed to recur you. I like her. Peggy, I mean. She's kind of amazing, and has had a pretty amazing career — "
*
"Yeah, well. Work has rapidly become something of a nightmare, so ask me again next week if I'm still happy to have taken her up on the offer," Liv says dryly, glancing down at herself and puffing up her cheeks. She is looking a touch… harried. Maybe it wasn't all tied into Jack's unannounced absence.
After a brief moment's thought, Liv waves it off and returns to the kitchen, not so much as batting an eyelash at Max. She is used to this, it is just the way it works.
*
"Great," Max replies to Steve, as if she means it. "Welcome to Galpalla," she adds, absently throwing some bread in the toaster. What time is it? Doesn't matter, it's breakfast time, she just got up. Oh, right, and Jack asked her a question.
"Actually, I had the day off. But apparently someone blew up Harlem or something? So that put an end to *my* thrilling plans for unconsciousness. What about you? Hot date or just finding out if he can survive the Gauntlet?" A broad wink and a grin aimed at Steve. She lives to tease people.
*
"Gauntlet," Steve says, looking worriedly toward Jack, and then the others in turn as he swallows with some difficulty. "Gauntlet mostly."
Steve chuckles and nods to Liv, knowing the pain that is working at SHIELD sometimes. That's why he quit. He doesn't mention that part.
*
"Yeaaaah… I saw what happened on the Ed Sullivan show, and man, things have been wild. Work," while Jack hasn't been in for a week, "has been nuts, apparently. Panic really is something that roots pretty easily. I think it's like New Yorker's general mode of operation. Mom said even home was getting a bit unruly." Which is saying something.
Her hands shove into her pockets and she manages a tight-lipped smile at Max's thoughts. "Honestly, just thought you should all meet," she shrugs. It's like bringing someone home to the family. Only, probably, more intense.
*
With one hand on the refridgerator door, Liv turns an almost pained look on Max. "Do you have to call it that? This week?" she asks in a quiet, exasperated voice. As for why it bothers her right now… Jack's brought it up.
Liv groans unhappily and lightly bounces her forehead off the fridge a few times. thunk thunk thunk
Speaking of work, though… "There are some messages for you by the phone, Jack."
*
Max zips her coveralls— finally— leaving just a peek of the white shirt visible at the nack. Steve is safe now. Probably. "Ah, well, that's fine, I'm not in a rush to get to work, despite— ah" she glances back the way she came, the portion of the living room she'd just been hopping through in an attempt to get dresed. "appearances." Yes. Good.
"I guess I can leave off Liv, but you'd think reminding you it's not *all* terrible would help take the bite out of the incredible dumb everywhere else." Yeah, okay, Max had some opinions about the Sullivan appearance. the roll of her eyes gives some additional commentary on the subject.
*
Steve's eyes are like a table tennis match. He's following along and trying to catch up, but doesn't seem to have the hang of it. He takes a sip of water. He needs it.
"Ed Sullivan?" Steve doesn't know. "I love that show, but I haven't been able to watch it because of — " Well, it's because his apartment is trashed to all hell. He hasn't even so much as seen a newspaper this week.
*
Sensing the bit of a sore spot, Jack doesn't answer Steve's question; she only knows what she heard from the administrator staff at work. Hilariously, the bosses seemed satisfied with the terrible explanation as to why she needed the sick days. "Thanks, Liv," Jack brightens instead, focusing on the notes by the phone.
She slides them off the desk. "My goodness. It's good to know nothing functions without me." Her cheeks puff out with exasperation and she shakes her head, "Well, looks like I have a job into the foreseeable future."
*
One of the thunks of Liv's forehead hitting the refridgerator door is accompanied by a metallic noise of complaint, and her desire to avoid doing more than just denting the appliance is the only reason she stops and takes a step back. Deep breaths. Calm. Caaaaalm.
Slowly, Liv's blue eyes slide towards Steve. She really shouldn't explain it to him, she's in no state to do so in a calm or unbiased man"One of the Princes of Asgard is an insufferable, arrogant ass and lied his way onto national television to try and show the people of Midgard that there are far scarier things out there than mutants or people with different colors of skin," she grates out. "And not a one of them understands or cares that all Loki's done is put innocent peoples' lives in jeopardy."
Deep. Breaths. Liv. Caaaaaaalm.
*
"It was super-dumb and made a bad show even worse," Max opines. She's not a fan of Ed Sullivan to start with, though. She gently nudges Liv aside, sinks her hand through the front of the fridge door to her wrist, and, tongue stinking out to one side while she concentrates, gets her fingers against the back of the mild dent and pushes it out. When her hand comes back out it has a bottle of soda, and she thumbs the cap off with a light pop.
"For a guy that's supposedly been here longer than most of us he sure doesn't know what the hell he's doing," she grouses.
*
Steve makes the oh face and nods. He was just getting used to the idea of aliens. And about Bucky being alive. "What's Asgard?"
He doesn't openly respond to Jack's comment about work not surviving without her, but he can see why. She's a lot more resourceful than she lets on.
Steve nods to Max, "I can vouch for age not necessarily accompanying wisdom."
*
"Also, a lot of people are getting hurt because of it," hence the reason it matters at all at work. If there's nothing to claim, it's off the insurance radar. Jack frowns slightly. "I'm sorry Liv. Honestly.." Her nose wrinkles at Steve's question, "It's like… Norse gods. That's what I understand, anyways." Thanks to Liv.
Her lips purse lightly and she emits a sigh before taking a long drink of her water. Yeah, this might have been a bad idea. Probably not on her top ten list.
*
Liv moves aside for Max, giving the much shorter woman a grateful pat on the arm when she fixes the dent. 'What's Asgard' earns a short, barked laugh, and she rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. "I'm not sure I know anymore." A beat, and she waves towards Jack with one hand. "Yes, that. It's where I'm from. We have a public embassy now, apparently," she notes in a too-cheerful voice, turning to head for the couch. "Because what Loki did isn't going to get that place burnt down within a month or anything. Idiot."
*
Max snorts at Liv, moving back aside to fetch her toast. Soda and toast, breakfast of champions, I tell ya. "Well, I'll be sure to remind them Liv told him so when I end up shoveling the place into the back of a truck, then," she drawls wryly.
*
"So, you know this guy?" Steve asks, trying to put something together. "The guy on the Ed Sullivan show. What did he say that was so bad? Is it worse than the alien thing?" Guy leaves SHIELD and you'd think he left the world entirely.
*
"….Yeaaaaaaah…" Jack's eyes squint into narrow slits as she attempts to negotiate how to consider and/or change the subject. "Well." Very eloquent, Jack. "I can say that the insurance on the Sullivan show probably skyrocketed. I mean," her eyes flit upwards, "not that they're a client, but the risk assessment had to have gone through the roof. I mean, an adjuster worth their mettle would increase that considerably."
Her lips twist to the side. "Maybe we should make brownies," because chocolate makes everything better.
*
Does Liv know Loki? "Unfortunately," she grumbles, folding her arms across her chest as she drops back to sit on the sofa. Flump. "We've only spoken a handful of times — he's royalty and I am… not. To say the least." She runs a hand over her face, eyes narrowing in thought.
"He said that he was… how did he phrase it. 'Burdened with a great duty'?" she asks, casting a look towards Max. If her eye twitches, she'll know she recalled it right. "Summoned a couple of monsters so that he could dispatch them while he lectured the audience about how they needed to stop hating their fellow man when otherworldly threats exist, and that Asgard has sworn an oath to protect the planet."
*
Max 's eye doesn't twitch. Instead she folds her arms and makes a really unflattering show of mouthing the words along with Liv while bobbling her head back and forth. Very mature. "Because that's what humanity is going to respond to," she adds at the end. "An absentee dad lecture."
She makes a throwaway gesture with both hands and a 'thppppt' noise. Then she shrugs. "But I'm ranting. Again. I should get to work, a desperate foreman with time-and-a-half beckons."
*
Steve's head turns as he hears Liv's word. It turns and it tilts and he…shockingly, does not seem diametrically opposed to what this Loki guys is talking about. But. But but but. He's not going to have that argument in front of Jack's girlfriends. So he says nothing because his mom used to tell him that if he had nothing nice to say to say nothing at all.
*
"Brownies it is!" Jack declares brightly even thought no one seemed to take the bait. "We have cocoa, butter, milk, flour, and sugar. Oh, and vanilla!" She manages a tight smile as her hands clap together loudly. "We will have warm brownies. Delicious brownies. Mom makes the best, but I learned early. So many brothers means so many brownies. Also it means that they will be a delightfully sugary mess!"
*
"Thank you, Jack." Liv aims a tired smile in her direction before she nods once to Max. "Go on, then. I'll make sure we save a few for you," she promises, clasping her hands in her lap.
Alas. Liv's eyes return to Steve shortly thereafter, and the lack of reaction seems to be reaction enough. "He's not going to earn anyone's trust or gratitude by scaring the shit out of them," she notes in a gentle voice. "…or by taking Carter by the throat when she went to ask him what the hell he was thinking. He doesn't understand humanity half as well as he wants to believe he does."
*
"L…lang…" Steve's about to say something about language, but then he stops because she's still talking and he doesn't want Jack to die. Of embarrassment.
"Wait. Carter?" Steve tilts his head. "Do you mean Sharon? The one that lives down the hall from where I used to live?"
*
Very quickly, Jack grabs what she needs and begins beating a batter to make brownies. Evidently she has the recipe memorized by heart. She adds the ingredients quickly, and eats the batter to smooth it out. She glances between the pair, and her head cants to the side as she goes about her work.
*
Even a half-finished 'language' is enough for Liv to give Steve what seems to be a genuinely apologetic look. "Frustrating week," she murmurs sheepishly, rubbing at the back of her neck. "Ah… no. Director Carter. She had…" She lifts her chin and gestures at her throat, frowning. "…bad bruising, so I asked. If I'd known about it before I saw Loki myself, I probably would have done something stupid," she admits, making a bit of a face. "Like hit him. Hard."
*
Max swallows the last of her toast, grabs her keys off the counter, and starts for the door. She stops, briefly, twice. Once is to give Jack a friendly little hug around the waist and peck her cheek. "Sorry, babe, we'll get together later and just do whatever, 'kay?"
The second is a stop by Steve. Who gets a pat on the chest and a too-sweet, saccharine smile. "See, the Gauntlet isn't so bad. Just keep in mind if you break her heart I'll rip yours out of your chest with my bare hands." Patpat, smile. "Toodles!" And then she doesn't leave through the front door so much as just ghosts her way through the exterior wall. Why'd she take keys? Who knows.
*
Steve turns to Liv. He should be grinning at Max's joke, because it's genuinely funny. He should be making a better effort of trying to fit in. But the idea that this guy choked Peggy and put both her life and the life of the child inside her into jeopardy, well, it has Steve giving the Bruce Willis face. "What did you say?"
*
The tone that Liv calls "Max!" after the departing woman might suggest that it was not, in fact, a joke. Maybe. She drags a hand over her face, exasperated, before she looks to Steve again. Ah. That's the kind of expression she'd been expecting him to have earlier. "I did say that he was an ass," she notes lowly. "She and the baby seem to be fine, if it's any consolation. But Loki is… arrogant. I doubt he thinks he did anything wrong. It's why he's so bloody dangerous."
*