capeandcowllogs | Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

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pietro maximoff | quicksilver

Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

WHO: Angelica Jones and Pietro Maximoff
WHERE: Their home in Brooklyn.
WHEN: Thursday morning, past 2am
WARNINGS: Hideousness?
SUMMARY: They're gonna talk and cuddle. So pretty much what they always do.
FORMAT: Paragraphasaurus

Angelica wasn't exactly the clingy type. She preferred to lick her wounds in private and put on the public face of serenity and strength, or cry alone in her shower when she was sure Pietro couldn't hear her, after Calvin had gone to bed. She didn't really want to talk about all the things that were bothering her, and she didn't want to ruin Pietro's expectations of a happy future with her just because she was suddenly ten months older, cancer-free, and unable to cope with the changes in her life between the start of the month and now.

Mostly she kept quiet about what had happened back home, spending the afternoons playing make believe with Calvin as a distraction. Her evenings were spent lying in bed with Pietro, in a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. She wanted to be near him, she wanted to be held and comforted, but she didn't want to talk about all the things that were troubling her. And she didn't want sex either. And while he was either too polite to speak up (hah!) or still too elated to have her back that he didn't care yet, Angelica knew that sooner or later her refusals would become a problem. Especially after all of the flowers and candies and presents he'd been spoiling her with.

The clock on their bedside table said 2:13. Angelica sat up in bed, turning to look at her sleeping fiance, drooling and sprawled out on the bed like he owned the thing. She smiled softly as she slipped away from him and into the private master bathroom, Leopold right on her heels. She quietly shut the door behind them, and after rifling through the cabinets for her bubble bath she started to fill up the bathtub. She loved Pietro, and she loved falling asleep in his arms and letting him dote on her, but she needed a chance to sort through her head without being cuddled to death. Silently she sank into the tub, orange and white kitten perched delicately on the edge beside her, watching his mistress soak.

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When Pietro had felt Angelica first sit up, he'd dismissed it as her leaving to get a drink of water, or something else to make her more comfortable. With that thought, he'd listened for a moment and sank back down into his pillow, content to drift back into his dreams (and drool, apparently). As such, he couldn't really if the sounds of water gushing out were real or some odd fabrication of a particularly vivid dream of Aruba. Regardless, when he rolled over and Angelica's warm body wasn't there to pull closer to him, he snapped awake instantly. It was foolish, of course, but he couldn't get over the vague paranoia that she'd vanish again at any time. How would explain to Calvin that he'd let her go again when she was sleeping right next to him?

"Angie?" He called into the darkness, fumbling for the lamp switch. Letting his eyes adjust to the dull yellow that washed the room almost instantly, he untangled himself from the covers and glanced around the room for her. Also foolish, probably. He couldn't imagine Angelica climbing out of their soft, warm bed to sulk in darkness on the other side of their bedroom. That sounded like something he might do after a particularly trying conversation with the Avengers, but nothing like her. Still, the momentary pause made him alert enough to hear a slight splashing sound. Maybe the water hadn't just been a dream. Delicately, he knocked on the bathroom door. "Angelica? Are you in there?"

She'd been flicking water at her cat, quietly chuckling as the poor thing wrinkled his nose and gave her a disapproving look. She'd meant to be quiet, of course, and she winced at hearing Pietro's voice. It wasn't that she didn't wish to speak to him, but she hadn't meant to wake him and bother him with her splashing.

Rolling onto her belly, she propped herself up on her elbows so she could see the door while maintaining some modesty with him. A trivial notion, but one that was renewed within her since her trip back home. "Yes, I'm here. You can come in, the door's unlocked."

He slipped inside, closing the door behind him. She might be okay with him being in here with her in the bath, but it would probably be better if Calvin didn't see her this way by some weird chance. He didn't often come looking for them late at night, but it wasn't unheard of either.

"May I ask if there's some reason you wanted a bubble bath at... What is it now, almost three in the morning?" He wasn't angry, perse. He didn't have any valid reason why she shouldn't take late night baths, or any real complaint with it, other than the cuddling of which it deprived him. Really, Pietro was more puzzled than anything else. And actually, if it the look on Leopold's furry face was any indication, the cat was puzzled as well.

"I was having trouble sleeping," she answered softly, hoping her half-truth would suffice. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'll try to be quieter."

She looked away from him then, staring at the cat again. It would be easier if he just went back to bed, if he didn't stay and ask too many questions. But, of course, her expression was giving her away. It was plainly written on her face that she was troubled. Angelica had to hope Pietro wouldn't pick up on that look and decide to stay.

But of course, he wouldn't be a very good fiance if he didn't pick up on it. The troubled look on her face was all too easy for him to pick up on.

"You don't have to worry about that. I was having trouble sleeping as well." That was a pretty blatant lie, but one that was well intentioned at least. Pietro moved further into the room, taking a seat at the edge of the tub, opposite Leopold who gave him a curt nod in acknowledgment. It was funny how expressive the little thing could be. "I'm far more concerned with what's bothering you."

Angie frowned, rolling onto her back again. It was stupid of her to think she could keep anything from him. He knew her better than anyone in this world, and probably better than anyone back home. And she wanted to tell him how scared she was, how overwhelmed and frightening the last ten months had been, but... how on earth could she explain to him that she was almost afraid to get married? Was she destined to repeat what had happened with Vance?

"I... I don't..." She trailed off, staring at the mountain of bubbles that had overtaken the tub. She didn't want Pietro to think she was rejecting him, that wasn't the case at all. But she had to be sure he wanted what she wanted. And since she didn't know what she wanted, things were extremely complicated in her head.

Inhaling deeply, she tried to speak again, tears welling up in her eyes, words tumbling out in a torrent, "I was home for ten months and so much happened while I was there and I'm better, you know, and I started wearing my costume again, and I made new friends and I was helping save people and I was almost done with school and... and I just saw Vance and... and then suddenly I got months and months of memories of everything we did together and of falling in love with you and of... dying... I'm just really confused right now. And I don't want you to hate me, because I love you so much it hurts, but I didn't remember you at all and I... I feel so horrible."

He studied her carefully as she spoke, trying to keep his reaction minimal. It did hurt that she would've forgotten him entirely, but on some level, Pietro knew that would happen. By all accounts, memories made in this world were like a barely coherent dream back home. If she'd remembered anything at all, she would've probably question why her subconscious had imagined her with him, of all people. Still, it wasn't Angelica's fault. No one could control their memories, and that was the truly terrifying thing to him about their relationship.

"I could never hate you." The words had left his mouth before he'd really considered them. It was true, of course, but in light of everything she'd shared, the statement seemed tawdry somehow.

"You couldn't control what it let you remember." Pietro elaborated, watching for anything that might hint at her reaction. "And everything you're describing sounds wonderful. Yes, I wish I'd been there to watch you do it... But there are some things that must be done alone, and you're here with me again. It's overwhelming, I think, but eventually it will seem less so. And then, you'll have all the experiences you gained there and we'll be together."

How he managed to come across as so thoughtful and reassuring was truly amazing. It was like a complete reversal of their usual roles, and the realization made Angelica snort back a laugh in spite of the tears in her eyes. Here was Pietro Maximoff being the stable, insightful one while his girlfriend was being irrational and crying in the bathtub at three in the morning. Truly this was a sign that they were meant for one another.

"I wish I could tell you I missed you that whole time," she said, reaching past Leopold for Pietro's hand, not noticing the water she was dripping onto the floor, or perhaps just not caring. "But I... I didn't miss you. Not until I came back and I realized I'd been without you that whole time. I can't believe I lived all that time without you, and I didn't even know what I was missing."

She bit her lip, rapidly blinking back her tears. She didn't want to cry anymore, but it was so difficult to keep it all in. "Are we... do you still want to get married?"

He didn't miss the water dripping from her hand to puddle on the tile floor, but it wasn't important. Any mess she made could be cleaned up later after Angelica was calm, or even in the morning, after they'd both gotten some sleep. Regardless, he took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"More than anything... However, only if you think you're ready. You've been through a lot very recently." Pietro looked toward the sink, then over to the collection of wedding magazines in the corner before turning back to her. "I'm in love with you, I want to grow old with you. As difficult as you know it is for me, I'll be patient until you know it's what you want."

That was exactly what she needed to hear. Angelica smiled and nodded, sitting up in the bath so that she could wrap both of her arms around Pietro and hold him close. She didn't especially care that she was getting him all wet, she was just so taken by the need to hold him that nothing was going to prevent her from doing just that. After squeezing him fiercely, she pulled away so that she could look into his eyes again. There were traces of sadness in her eyes still, but she felt comforted knowing that Pietro would be patient with her.

"I love you too. And I want for us to be together, and I want to be your wife. I guess I'm just scared. I don't know, maybe it didn't seem real before. When I was sick, everything seemed so far away and distant, everything was going to happen 'someday'. 'Someday' you and I would be husband and wife, and 'someday' we'll have kids and settle down and do all that domestic stuff that married couples do, you know?" She leaned against him again, shivering as Leopold licked some water from her shoulder.

"But it's almost that 'someday', and everyday it gets closer and everyday I get a little more afraid. It's not a question of do I want this, because I do. I want to marry you, Pietro, and I want to be with you always. You are my husband, whether we're married or not. I'm disgustingly, ridiculously in love with you. But I don't want to mess up. What if I'm s horrible wife? What if I'm a bad mother? What if I am and you change your mind about me?"

It was difficult not to shiver. The bathroom was cold. It was still February after all, and while Angelica might've been in the warm bath recently, Pietro had been sitting on cold tile and letting himself be dripped on. Still, it felt good to hold her. As much time as they'd spent holding each other since she'd been back, Pietro didn't know if it could ever truly make up for the lost week.

"You won't be a bad mother. Seeing you with Calvin has made me entirely certain of that. And please believe me when I say that I am far more worried about failing you as a husband, than the other way around. My last marriage didn't exactly end well, and I'm very much at fault for that..." He trailed off, not really wanting to dwell on it any further. With a sigh, he disentangled himself from Angelica's still damp arms, and tugged off the cotton tshirt he'd been wearing. "Now either I'm going in, or you're coming out. Either way, I'd like to continue holding you and I'm not very fond of wet flannel."

The idea of getting out of the bath now was entirely unappealing. She was too cold to want to exit the warm water just yet, so she pulled her knees up under her chin and scooted back in the tub, silently inviting him to join her.

"I want us to be like how we've always been. I don't want it to change. But the problem is, I've changed. Getting sick and getting better changed me. I've been through over a year of chemotherapy, between here and home. And the last three months of my life I've spent back in costume, being a hero again. I don't want to give that up. I want to be your wife, but I need to be a hero too."

She watched him hopefully, like she was waiting for some sort of validation. And she was, in a way. She didn't care what Emma Frost or Arana or anyone else back home thought of her activities, but Pietro's opinion of her did matter, more than anyone else's. Nervously, Angie crossed her arms and waited for him to speak.

Quickly doing away with his pajama bottoms and underwear, Pietro climbed into the tub with her, trying to avoid splashing Angelica as much as possible. It probably didn't matter to her at this point, but he considered it all the same.

"Honestly, Angelica, I would expect no less." He shifted, settling into the opposite corner of the tub and reaching for her hand. Pietro had thought about this particular dilemma before, but she'd been much more fragile, then. Less than a month ago, she'd been tired from harsh medical treatments, and skinny and pale from lack of appetite. While he was happy her illness was virtually gone, the fact she physically looked so much healthier was every bit as wonderful. "... I suppose it wouldn't be fair of me to keep you in a glass case. I fear for your safety out there. You were killed, Angelica. Murdered by someone because of your powers. But the same could've happened to me. As an Avenger, I know that I could be killed in battle in any number of ways. It terrifies me to think of you taking the same risks."

He swallowed, glancing away to the frothy bubbles in the tub. She must have used some kind of bubblebath, or soap to soak. "All the same, you have taken those risks before, and you wouldn't be happy if I forced you to stay at home. You'd probably laugh at me, then lock me out of our room if I did anything so foolish as forbid you to join the Avengers, wouldn't you?"

Chuckling slightly, Pietro gently tugged he hand, indicating that he'd like to hold her more closely. "What I mean to say is... I'm fine with you being a hero. If we decide to settle down and do domestic things like have children, we can reevaluate. But barring that... You should help people if that's what you'd like to do."

Angie chuckled too, and crawled halfway into his lap. She wanted to be close to him too, though it occurred to her a few seconds later that this gesture possibly implied something more. She'd just have to break it to him gently if necessary.

"Do you remember our first date? You promised you'd race me as soon as I was well. Do you remember that?" She smiled softly, reaching to run her fingers through his hair. "And you always said you'd be proud to fight by my side. And the first time we kissed, you promised you'd take me to Istanbul. I still want to race you. And I want to fight by your side. And I want to travel with you and have adventures with you and I want you all to myself for awhile. And someday, in a few years maybe, I'm going to have your children. But I've got a lot of racing and fighting and adventuring to accomplish first."

"I remember." He smiled at the subject. They're first date had ended so differently than how he'd imagined. It was supposed to be nothing more than talking about Luna over a cup of coffee or two. So much for the idea of going slow. "I also remember not knowing how to tell you I'd win."

It wasn't hard to tell she was uneasy about something, but Pietro figured they'd had enough tears and serious discussions for the night. So, instead of doing something mature like bringing it up, or offering further words of encouragement, his smile turned more than a little mischievous and he flicked at some of the bubbles floating languidly between them. Pietro hadn't intended to hit her, exactly, but sure enough a few of the suds ended up hitting her shoulder and chin. He gave her an apologetic look that wasn't entirely apologetic, not really caring about the consequences. A bubble splash fight might actually be just want the highly intense conversation needed.

"Babe!" Angie squawked, voice slightly shrill, nose wrinkling in mock disgust. Her disapproving look lasted all of half a second before she scooped up some bubbles of her own and blew them right into Pietro's face, laughing loud enough to potentially wake the sleeping six year old down the hall. As it was, her laughter was obviously offending the cat, who by now had abandoned his perch on the edge on the tub for a safer (and dryer) spot nearer to the door.

Angelica splashed him a few more times before deciding what Pietro needed was a bubble beard, which she helpfully set about providing him. It was a nice distraction, and moments like this reminded her of why she'd fallen for him. As aloof and snide as he was with everyone else, he always showed her such kindness, and he could be so mischievous and playful. Angie was certain no one would believe her if she mentioned these moments to anyone else, but more than anything else, she was happy to have this private side of Pietro all to herself.

"You know something, old man?" She sat back from him, admiring the bubbles she'd smeared all over his face. She tried her best to keep her tone and demeanor serious, expression a vague impression of that superior look Pietro was fond of dishing out to people. "I'm going to win that race. You're slowing down in your old age, you know. I bet I could beat you, even now, even without my powers. What do you have to say about that?"

He pursed his lips as she smothered him with the bubbles. They tickled his nose, and the corners of his mouth. Quickly enough, though, they slipped down his face and chin, dripping back into the tub. Pietro reached up with one hand to clear off the rest. At least enough to reply to her.

"I think you should give me a moment to consider. You know I've never been very good at letting people down gently and I'd rather not offend you." It was a challenge, but he kept his expression carefully sincere, not wanting to break into his usual superior expression and ruin the joke. "At any rate, I'm sure you'll give it a good try."

Angie frowned at him, then leaned in to brush a gentle against his lips. This made her pout evaporate immediately into a playful smirk, which itself dissolved into a little fit of giggles. It was just too difficult to feign anger when Pietro was sitting there, being so sweet and playing along with her silly game. That didn't mean she couldn't make a few empty threats, of course. "You'll let me win. If you know what's good for you."

She couldn't help but feel better now. As reluctant as she had been to go to him with her worries, she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her chest. She was still troubled, she still had a lot think about, but it was a relief to know she had him still. No matter what happened, he'd still love her, even if she wanted to slow down, even if she needed to sort out her head, they'd still be together.

"I'm so happy to be home," Angelica whispered, looping her arms around his neck. "I'm so happy we're together. Please don't ever think otherwise. Even when I'm like this, when I'm a crying mess, there's nowhere else I'd rather be and no one else I'd want to be with." She smiled, brushing the remaining soap and bubbles from his face, laughing quietly. "Do you love me, Pietro?"

As she kissed him, Pietro reached up to cup her cheek, letting his hand float down to rest on Angelica's shoulder when she pulled away.

"I should think that would be rather obvious at this point. Exactly how many people do you think I've allowed to paint me with bubblebath, Angelica?" Smirking at her slightly, he tried to keep the mood light. Of course, they could go back to talking seriously if that was what she wanted, but it was now closer to four in the morning, and frankly, he didn't have the energy. "We should stop splashing around before Calvin wakes up, you know."

She wanted to tell him no, to tell him that she wanted to stay in this careless, happy moment for awhile longer. The water was still warm, and she was comfortable enough that she could quite easily stay safe in the bath for another hour or so, she was certain. But it had been an exhausting conversation, and even with their future on her mind, sleep was probably a better idea than not.

"You're right, you should take me back to bed. It's way past my bedtime." She stifled a yawn, scooting away from him just enough so that she could stretch out. Though the water was still quite warm, her shoulders were cold from the evaporating water. Getting all cuddly and cozy under their blankets was sounding better and better with each passing moment. Sleepily, she grinned at him. "Besides, you still have to walk Calvin to school in a couple hours."

"A couple of hours. Yes." He nodded, not really paying attention to the particulars of the conversation. His alarm would go off, and he would tear himself from bed again, and that would be that. There was really no use dreading it now. Not when he could at least enjoy laying next to her. Pietro vaguely wondered if Angelica would complain if he used her like a human teddy bear once they finally climbed back in bed. It sounded like a comforting feeling, but he knew if it were him, he'd feel smothered. But it was such an awkward thing to ask someone's permission for.

As she pulled away to stretch, he climbed out of the bath, quickly grabbing two towels, so they didn't drip all over the floor. Leopold was now pawing gently at the door leading to the bedroom. He seemed to know that with two sopping wet humans in such a tight space there was no way he wasn't going to get wet. He lifted one eyebrow, handing Angelica one of the towels as he continued to observed the pathetic look on the cat's tiny face. "I think the baby's grown tired of us, dear."

Angelica chuckled, wrapping the towel around her snuggly as she let the water drain from the tub. After a moment spent drying herself off, she glided past Pietro and opened the door for the poor cat, managing to keep him only mostly dry. Leopold was sulking now, sure, but he'd slink back into bed as soon as his people did. That was his way.

"Mmm, I'm so tired," she yawned, leading the way back to their bed. She flopped onto the mattress uselessly, not even bothering to remove her towel or change back into her pajamas or even her underwear. Not the smartest decision, considering the fact that she very decidedly did not want to escalate things physically, even if she did want to bury her face in Pietro's chest and fall asleep in his arms. She was just too sleepy to move again now that she was lying down. "Come to bed. I need you to tell me a bedtime story and kiss me good night."

"A bedtime story," He repeated again with a yawn. Apparently a tired Pietro was a somewhat echolalic Pietro, at least when he was trying to be polite. He considered for a moment, finishing toweling off his hair, and draping the now damp and crumpled thing over the back of an armchair. Pietro then dug a fresh pair of underwear out from their dresser and slipped them on, rummaging around for more pajama bottoms, but to his chagrin, the now half soaked set currently laying in a puddle on the bathroom floor seemed to be the last. Oh well. It wasn't as though it was freezing out anymore. Once they climbed under the covers, he wouldn't really notice, and he didn't miss at all Angelica's lack of changing into, well, anything.

"There was once a boy who liked dinosaurs and spaceships. He built them out of cardboard and, when his parents would let him, clay..." It really would've been better to go back and hang his wet clothes so that they could dry out properly. But Angelica was right. He'd be up in a few hours anyway, and inching up next to her on the bed seemed better immediately with every passing second. "Building all of these things required lots of energy, so when the boy got home from school, he ate his dinner, and usually went to sleep within a few hours... -- Are you really going to sleep like that?"

Her eyes were closed and her lips were curved into a satisfied smile as she listened to his voice, more focused on the sound of it than to the actual words. That was, until he stopped babbling and she realized he'd been directing a question to her. Blinking, she forced her eyes open, tilting her head to look at him.

"Huh? You mean...?" Angie yawned again, stretching out a bit. The towel was still damp, and she was a bit chilly, but it really did seem like a wasted effort to get all the way out of bed and changed into bed clothes. She was already so comfortable, and all Pietro had to do to warm her up was hold her close. But then again, that would no doubt lead to him desiring other activities, and that was not something Angelica wanted to deal with at four in the morning. "I was going to, but if that's a problem for you..."

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Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night

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